#okay so the lift one got away from me and i needed a break so i did this

[prettypinkpuddles]

Research from afar

hi… yes i’ve been gone a while, it’s just because i’ve been to lazy to write or had no movement or ideas. but ive got one and i think im back

enjoy!

you had been given the chance of a lifetime, to go to Nathan and record its elemental properties to compare with that of Sumeru’s. you’d been here for months, made so many friends, and now it was time to leave.

when you first arrived, there were so much graffiti along the walls, graffiti was was far too high for an average person to reach. you furthered down the path to discover two girls. one was honey brown with pale blue hair, a top covering her chest and a lopsided skirt. she was smiling down at a short girl with blonde hair tied into a wide ponytail with a visor, sporty gear and taupe fluffy ears, much furrier than Tighnari’s. her cerulean eyes met yours and she gasped and waved to you.

“H-hello! are you a traveller?!” she called.

you nodded and walked up to them, holding your notebook tightly to you. “yes, i am! i’m a student from the Akademiya doing research about Natlan! could you help?”

that piqued their interest. they began to completely examine you. your clothes, how your hair was done, the little girl even looked into your notebook, with your permission of course. she pointed to the padisarah you had sketched out.

“that’s so pretty!” she smiled, “what’s it called?”

“a padisarah!” you grinned.

“it’s like a glowing hornshroom.” Mualani commented.

you grinned and looked at her, “could you show one one of those? for my research?”

“depends.”

a voice startled you. it was deeper and softer. you looked up, seeing a boy with lots of green accents and browned skin. his eyes were striking yellow and his muscles arms were crossed as he eyed you. a bit of suspicion washed over him before a new look overtook his face; you blinked and looked down at Kachina as she ran up to introduce him.

“this is Kinich!” she exclaimed, “he’s our friend.”

“hello.” you smiled.

“hi.” he said in a flatter tone.

“and yeah, it will depend,” Mualani continued. “are you afraid of the dark?”

“do you like adventure?!” Kachina jumped.

that started a journey of them taking you all through Natlan, showing you each of their tribes and customs. You wrote down so much that you needed a new notebook; of Mualani’s tribe and their famous hot springs, how amazing they felt after excursions through the tunnels with Kachina. she gave you a special white stone she said was good luck and you fastened it to your pyro vision.

Kinich’s tribe was probably the most dangerous for you, you had no proper shoes to climb mountains but you still tried anyways, much to Ajaw’s amusement.

“those delicate foot holders are no match for the mightiness of the great lands of Natlan!” he chortled as you lifted your foot onto the jutted rock to your left.

you grunted as you hoisted yourself up, “shut up! you stupid… pixelated…. lizard!” that got to him.

“LIZARD?!” he gasped, “you Dare call me?! The Mighty Dragonlord, K'uhul Ajaw, A LIZARD?!” he sprang up to you, got right in your face, red as a henna berry, and you fell.

you had no idea he could leave Kinich’s side with Kinich allowing it, it scared you so bad, you were now free falling from the cliff. you had to think fast, create something to break your fall but you didn’t need to. something grabbed you, swung you to the left in a quick motion and threw you up in the air again. it had to be Ajaw, he was going to throw you away like the trash he said you were. then you stopped moving.

you looked around. you were on the ground and in something’s arms. something much bigger than Ajaw’s tiny form.

“are you alright?”

you looked up, “Kinich?” you nearly fell out of his lap, but he snatched you closer to him, examining you. “i’m… i’m okay.”

he nodded after he felt satisfied, “that’s good.” he looked like he wanted to smile, then it dropped when Ajaw sprang in front of you.

“i knew it! i knew it!” he blabbed, pointing his stubby nubby at your face. “you fell, just like I said you would!”

he was often shit-talking you and everything you did, how you sketched out the saurian claw succulent that kinich gave you, how you walked, how you cooked the traditional food Mualani taught you, even when you were encouraging Kachina to bungee jump with you. you told her it was the best way to get her nerves out before the Pilgrimage, even though she was supposed to compete in a few months.

she ended up doing it, screamed her head off, but it was so much fun, you could see Mualani and Kinich smiling for you two as you soars through the air over and over. you screamed out and a huge, red hibiscus blossom appeared above your heads, bursting like a firework and Kachina squealed, begging to stop.

Natlan was probably more beautfiful than your home. all the color was beautiful, and yes you missed the green, but you got your fill through looking at Kinich. and the liter of yumkasaurs he was showing you.

you nearly squealed, “why did you show me these sooner!?”

“i’m sorry.” he said as you fell to your knees, hands outstretched for one the little green things rushing to you. it chittered and smiled wide, nuzzling into you with its floppy ears smacking your forearms.

you giggled and petted its head as it fell into your lap. “you’re such a cutie!” you cooed, seeing Kinich’s hand ruffle its petal-shaped collar. it smiled and pushed into his hand as you looked up at him, “do you have one of these?”

“no, but Kachina has a tetpetilsaur,” he replied. “i do not need a saurian.”

“because of Ajaw?” you grinned. he nodded with a bit of an eyeroll at the thought of the annoying thing.

Kinich turned to you, “would you like one? i think they would benefit your research.”

“a saurian?” you grinned and vigorously nodded as you looked at the whelp in your lap. “this one,” you whispered, “i wanna name her Pari.”

“like the padisarahs, from your home?”

you blinked at that, surprised he remembered and could say that, looking at him with a bit of shock before nodding with a smile. “yes, and the place that is for me.” you leaned to the side and leaned against his shoulder as you stroked Pari’s pale green fur at she purred.

your months-long journey was wondrous, you wanted to stay forever, but you knew you had to go back home and analyze the data with others from the Spantamad darshan. but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. your eyes filled with tears as you packed your bags, walking out of Mualani’s guest house to see the bright place you temporarily called home. temporarily.

as you walked with her to the stadium, you gave Kachina the biggest hug ever, smiling at her warmth as your eyes unfortunately landed on a blond girl with a white dress and blue accents.

“what?” Mualani asked you.

you shook your head, “it’s… i know her.” you said, “she’s travelled to my home before…. a lot happened.”

“ohhh, she told me that she’s been to most of Teyvat now.” Kachina chimed in.

“yeah….” you looked away from the Traveller, “she’s just… i can’t describe her.” you pulled the thought of her and Nahida from your head and looked down at Kachina, “i’m so sorry i’m going to miss you compete, but write to me when you win.”

she looked down at the floor, “if i win,” she corrected.

you bent down to her level and pulled her chin up, “when you win Kachina. i’ve got a feeling you’re gonna make it.”

Mualani nodded and took her hand, “let’s go get set up.” she looked to you and held out her hand. “i wanted to give you this necklace before you left, so you’ll remember to come visit me in the future.”

you gasped at the necklace she was holding. it was made of sprayfeather gills, expertly woven together to form a ring. you slipped it over your head and smiled, “thank you so much, i’ll visit you as soon as my research is over.”

“i’ll walk Y/n out of Natlan.” Kinich announced. the girls nodded and began to walk into the stadium together, leaving you and Kinich to make the journey back to where you started it.

people who recognized you waved and bid you goodbyes, some giving you gifts like seeds from the plants of Natlan, recipes for different dishes, stones of warm colors to bless you and your journey. even your yumkasaur had found you and was dancing alongside you as you approached the bit of water between natlan and the desert of Sumeru.

“i…” you tried to speak but nothing else came out.

kinich took your hand and glanced at you, “you don’t wanna leave, do you?”

your face scrunched and you shook your head, “ i was being strong for Kachina but i really don’t want to leave. this place is like magic, real magic. the people, the cultures so wonderfully blending together to create a unified nation. my saurian, my friends, even you… i simply can’t…”

kinich didn’t speak, his grip just grew stronger as he looked at you.

“i know, i know… i need to.” you wiped your face and sniffled. “i’m sorry, Kinich, i just-”

“don’t leave,” he commanded and pulled your face to him, “don’t leave without saying it.”

“saying… saying what?”

“how you feel, Y/N.” he said and you flinched. “i don’t want you to leave either, but if you must, at least tell em the truth, please.”

you could feel your heart quickening like when you’d get really close to him, you could smell his cologne, this woodsy, dark floral scent enveloping you both.

“say it.” he repeated.

you swallowed, “i love you, Kinich.” you nearly ate him, pulling his lips to yours to kiss him over and over, “i love you so much.” you said in between the kisses.

his arms found you, his fingers snaking into your hair and making your scalp tingle, “i should’ve said it that night, but i didn’t… i’m sorry.”

you two stood there, kissing and hugging before you started giggling. he pulled away a bit, asking you why you were laughing with that sneaky, low voice that would make you sizzle in your clothes, “i have to go, my boat will be here soon.”

he nodded and kissed your once more, then as you pulled yourself away, he kissed your hand. “come back soon, Y/N.”

“as soon as i get to my house, i’ll send a letter.” you replied with a smile, thinking how badly you wanted to see him again once you stepped on that boat. you thought of every moment with him, how you could’ve said it, when you were rock climbing, when you were alone camping, that night. but this was a good time to say it.

[my-debauchery]

Visit.

idol!jaemin × gn!reader

g`fluff

cw`kissing, some happy tears

A/N:jaemin got 3 votes so i hope no one is upset. i know it's not extremely festive and for that i apologies. i hope you like it anyway and have happy and peaceful christmas, if you celebrate. as always, constructive criticism is more than welcome. if you see mistakes in cw tagging, please, let me know.

you could feel it in the air. be it the festive spirit or 6 shots of espresso, that you had an hour ago, you can not decide.

somehow this christmas morning feels different, as you sit and watch the morning news in your pajamas. eating leftovers from the yesterday's celebratory dinner at your parents house.

you feelt slightly sad that your boyfriend couldn't join, but then again you knew what it's gonna be like dating an idol. you talked on the phone for a bit and he had to go back to the rehearsal for sbs's gayodaejeon. you probably won't be able to see each other till after the new years celebration.

as you get up to clean up your plate, there is a chime of the lock from the front door. you think it must be your sister's coming to pick you up for your walk, so you continue on to the kitchen.

'i just finished breakfast. let me change and we can go' you call out to them and load the dishes in the dishwasher.

suddenly you are engulfed by something cold and rustling.

'where i are you going?' you can hear a smile in jaemin's voice, even though he is speaking in to your neck 'can you delay your plans for a bit?' there is a playful intonation in his question.

you turn around in his arms and look up astonished 'what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be practicing or doing million other things in preparation for your performance? or resting?' you say worriedly, noticing slight dark circles and a sleepy gaze.

'maybe' he says and lowers his head on your left shoulder, mumbling 'or i can snuggle with you for an hour' you don't need to be told twice, so you move back to the couch and drop down with him.

you settle down and wrap yourself around jaemin. he takes a deep breath in 'you smell like ch-' you look up with a mischievous smile 'home?' he gives a quiet laugh and pinches your nose lightly 'no, love. you smell like christmas'

you pout and look away 'i bought a new body wash and i smell delicious' you say triumphantly and poke his chest 'i know. i can just bite your hands of for breakfast' he says and try to catch your hands and do just that.

jaemin tackles you on the ground and traps your underneath him. you try to break free, but he is stronger 'maybe you shouldn't have used it, you know i already can gobbel you up on any given day' he grins down on you.

you puff out your chest and lift your chin up 'first you should take your jacket off, show some manners. this is an establishment of fine dining and a certain class. not just anyone can eat here' you finish off with a lifted brow.

he takes off his jacket and tosses it to the side 'not anyone you say?' you nod and cross your arms 'of course not, only the most special people, in the most dignified positions' you say with an air of self-imposed importance.

he smiles an almost manic smile 'what about fiancé's? and futer husband's? are they special and dignified enough?' jaemin reaches in to his pocket and you feel you heart skip a couple beats. he outstretches his hand with an open palm on which lays a ring.

you skoot out from underneath him and sit on your knees in front of jaemin. you take the ring with shaky hands and look at it. it a simple silver band with sprinkling of small crystals and ingraving of yours and jaemin's initials on the inside. you feel dumbfounded and lost for words, so you just look at it.

you don't know for how long you sit like that 'will you take it? it's a promise ring. i know we can't marry right now, but one day. when things quite down a little we can' you feel tears drip down your face and your vision gets a little bit blurry.

jaemin nudges you lightly 'are you okay? is it a no and you just thinking how to tell me? you know i can always book a table later. i know your fine establishment is very popular' you snort and launch yourself forward to bear hug him.

'i love you so much. you don't need no booking. i'm afraid our establishment is closing for private service for the foreseeable future. you are our most honorable guest after all' you whisper in to his ear.

jaemin hugs you back 'the honor is all mine' you feel the sobs shake his body and run your hands along his back and sides.

you peel away from each other and he takes the ring from your hands. jaemin gently holds your hand and puts the ring on 'please, never leave me. i will do anything and everything to make you happy. i will learn and grow with you till tax collectors and fire department close you down'

you laugh and give him a short kiss. you both turn towards his discarded jacket, from which his phone is ringing and buzzing 'i'm afraid you need to go' you tell him and move to your feet.

jaemin follows suit and gets up. he holds your face, slightly squishing your cheeks 'i love you. i'll call you later, then i get to the show and before we go up. i love you. please don't forget to dress warmly if you go out. i love you. i'll try to get couple hours free to celebrate with our families and friends, before the new year. i love you. please watch our performance, but look only at me. i love you'

you squish his face back 'i love you. i'll be waiting for you here, if you can, stay the night today. i love you. i'll stay warm and won't get sick, i promise. i love you. i would love to celebrate with everyone, but don't stress about it. i love you. i'll watch it and you know i only have eyes for you. i love you' you pinch his cheeks 'you should go or the others will chew you out'

he lets go of you and picks up his jacket. jaemin fishes out his phone and answers it 'yes, hyung i'm going down. sorry for not answering. i'll be out in a minute' he moves towards the front door and you follow him.

jaemin puts his jacket and shoes on and looks at you. you move to stand in front of him and kiss him again. he turns to exit and you hold on to his right hand. just as he is about to step out of your apartment, you cheerily say 'thank you for your visit. please, come again!'

the last thing you hear is jaemin's bright laugh echoing in the corridor.

[amalythea]

「 secret santa 」

⤷ info: diluc, wanderer x gn! reader (separate) || fluff and hurt/comfort || wc: 1564 (total)

⤷ warnings: oblivious reader (and diluc himself tbh), wanderer is,,, himself? brief mentions of reader being hurt but not too many details. half the time i write for genshin i dont care to match flower names into canon ones, this is one of those times and you guys just need to deal with it/lh wanderer's part is shorter bc i didn't know how to continue it.

⤷ extra: This is my gift to @daosies for @2024gisecretsanta 's secret santa event! Hope these are okay, haha i was gonna post this on christmas morning but i got impatient.

diluc.

The warm hues of the Mondstadt sunset cast a golden glow over the familiar stretch of rolling vineyards. You sat cross-legged under the towering oak tree by the edge of the Dawn Winery estate, twirling a small daisy between your fingers. Diluc sat a little distance away, leaning back against the bark of the tree. The setting sun framed his fiery red hair like an ember glowing in the dusk, and his sharp, focused eyes stared out at the horizon.

“You’re quiet today,” you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in acknowledgment, tilting his head slightly to look at you. “Just thinking.”

“You always say that,” you teased, tossing the daisy at him. It landed on his lap, and he looked down at it with the faintest smile.

“Because it’s true,” he replied, lifting the flower and twirling it between his fingers the way you had been moments ago.

You shifted to lie back on the grass, staring up at the sky now painted in shades of pink and orange. “What’s got you so deep in thought?”

There was a pause, long enough that you almost thought he wouldn’t answer.

“...You,” he admitted softly.

You turned your head sharply to look at him, heart skipping a beat. “What about me?”

Diluc avoided your gaze, looking at the daisy instead as if it held all the answers. His usually confident demeanor faltered, replaced with an unfamiliar shyness.

“Just… how long we’ve been friends,” he said after a moment, his voice measured. “How much you’ve always been there.”

“Of course,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the sudden flutter in your chest. “That’s what friends are for.”

Friends. The word hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meanings. You wanted to say more, to ask if he ever thought about you the way you thought about him. But instead, you sat up and plucked another flower from the ground, holding it out to him with a playful smile.

“Here, another daisy for your collection,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

He took it, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment that made your pulse quicken. “You’re strange sometimes, you know that?”

“You’re the one keeping them,” you shot back, grinning.

“I only keep what’s worth keeping,” he replied, his voice soft but steady, his crimson eyes locking onto yours.

The weight of his gaze made your teasing smile falter. For a moment, it felt like the world had gone still—no rustling leaves, no distant chirping of birds, just the two of you under the fading light.

“Diluc…” you began, but you didn’t know how to finish.

He looked away first, his ears tinged red. “It’s getting late. I should walk you home.”

Your heart sank at the abrupt shift, but you nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As the two of you walked back toward Mondstadt, the silence was comfortable, yet filled with the words neither of you dared to say. You stole glances at him, wondering if he could hear the rapid thrum of your heart.

And as Diluc walked beside you, his hand brushing against yours ever so slightly, he wondered the same thing.

Days turned into weeks, and the memory of that sunset evening lingered like a half-forgotten dream. Every shared glance with Diluc made your heart race, every accidental brush of his hand left you aching for more, but neither of you said anything.

You told yourself it was for the best. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if confessing ruined the years of friendship you cherished so much?

But your heart had other plans.

It was another quiet evening at the Dawn Winery, this time in the cozy warmth of the study. The crackling of the fireplace filled the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls. You sat in the armchair across from Diluc, clutching a cup of tea he had prepared.

“I’m surprised you had time for this,” you said, trying to keep your voice light. “Doesn’t Master Diluc always have work to do?”

He glanced at you over the rim of his cup, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I can make time for important things.”

You nearly choked on your tea, heart skipping a beat. Was that a compliment? Did he mean you? Shaking your head, you forced yourself to focus on the fire instead of his piercing crimson eyes.

But the moment wouldn’t let you go.

“Diluc,” you said softly, almost without thinking.

He hummed in response, setting his cup down. “What is it?”

Your grip tightened on the porcelain, and the words tumbled out before you could stop them. “I think I love you.”

The weight of your confession crashed into you like a thunderclap. Your eyes widened in panic, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what you’d just said.

“I-I mean—forget I said that!” you stammered, setting the cup down hastily and waving your hands as though you could physically take the words back. “I didn’t mean it, or—no, I did, but not like that, or maybe I did—Oh Archons, just forget it! Please, forget it!”

Diluc blinked, stunned for a moment. Then, to your utter shock, a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

“Why are you laughing?!” you exclaimed, burying your face in your hands.

“I’m laughing,” he said, his voice warm and full of something you couldn’t quite place, “because you’ve just made this much easier for me.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, confused. “What… what do you mean?”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze soft but unwavering. “I’ve felt the same way about you for a long time.”

You froze, the world tilting on its axis. “You’re joking,” you said flatly, shaking your head. “You’re not serious.”

“Do I look like someone who would joke about this?” he asked, raising a brow.

You hesitated, searching his face for any hint of insincerity, but all you saw was quiet certainty. “You… really mean it?”

Instead of answering with words, Diluc closed the distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek gently, giving you plenty of time to pull away, but you didn’t. His lips pressed against yours, soft and sure, like a promise made in silence.

The kiss stole the breath from your lungs, and when he finally pulled back, your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“Does that convince you?” he asked, his voice a low murmur.

You could only nod, too overwhelmed to form words.

He smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made your chest feel impossibly warm. “Good,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Because I don’t plan on letting you forget it.”

wanderer.

The sharp scent of antiseptic stings your nose as Wanderer kneels in front of you, his deft hands busy cleaning the gash on your arm. His touch is precise and gentle, yet his words sting more than the wound ever could.

"Do you have any idea how reckless you are? You’re a complete idiot, you know that?" His indigo eyes bore into yours, sharp as a blade, but there's something softer hidden behind his glare. "What were you thinking, throwing yourself into danger like that?"

"I was trying to help," you mutter weakly, unable to meet his gaze.

"Help?" His voice rises, then falls into a low, simmering growl. "You call this helping? Getting yourself hurt like this? You could have—" He cuts himself off, a rare flicker of vulnerability breaking through his irritation.

He sighs, exasperated, and reaches for the bandages. "Hold still," he orders.

The bandage feels cool against your skin as he carefully wraps it around your arm, his hands so steady and gentle that you almost forget the scolding. His fingers brush over your skin with deliberate tenderness, and the contrast between his harsh tone and his delicate touch is almost dizzying.

"You’re so infuriating," he mutters, shaking his head. "Why do you always make me worry like this? It’s like you’re trying to give me a heart attack—if I even had one." His lips twitch into a smirk at his own sarcasm, but the worry behind his words is unmistakable.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, daring to glance up at him.

He pauses, his hands stilling as his eyes meet yours. For a moment, the air is thick with unspoken emotions. Then, with a sigh, he leans in, his forehead briefly pressing against yours. "You really are an idiot," he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost affectionate.

Before you can respond, he tilts your chin up and presses a kiss to your lips. It's firm, lingering, and filled with a quiet desperation that he’d never put into words.

When he pulls away, his glare returns, but it’s less convincing now. "Don’t think this means I’ve forgiven you. Next time, stay out of trouble—or I’ll tie you to a tree until the danger’s gone. Got it?"

You can't help but laugh, even though it earns you a half-hearted scowl. "Got it."

"Good," he says, wrapping the final bandage with a precise knot. Then, to your surprise, he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. "Because if you pull something like this again, I won’t just scold you—I’ll haunt you. Permanently."

Despite his words, the way he cups your cheek and presses a featherlight kiss to your temple tells you all you need to know about how deeply he cares.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[honeypiehotchner]

Juno (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hello again! This goes from zero to 100 in two seconds flat don't @ me!! Sabrina's new album came out and reawakened something in me (everyone say thank you Sabrina) (also this is not beta'd I wrote this in a short n' sweet haze)

Summary: Aaron is working from home but what paperwork he needs to do is the absolute last thing on your mind.

Warnings: smut! 18+ only! this is so filthy! in no particular order: multiple orgasms, cockwarming, choking, brat tendencies, stoplight system, unprotected sex, breeding kink (briefly), face fucking, overstimulation

WC: like 3,400 I lost my damn mind clearly

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you. Blame it on period hormones (probably) or the fact that Aaron looks absolutely delicious right now in his tight black t-shirt (most likely), but you’re going to go insane if either of you have clothes on for another five minutes. 

The problem is, Aaron is trying to focus. It’s one of his days where he works from home, an idea you gave him when you realized how easy it would be for him to do the same paperwork just from the comfort of your living room. It was a brilliant idea at first. You got to see him more, and were able to do your own thing around the house while he did his work. You got to have lunch together, and offer a genuine mental break in between his mountain of paperwork. 

Now, though, you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck about whatever needs to be signed, who needs to clear what, and what phone calls he still needs to make. 

“Honey,” you call sweetly from the kitchen. You watch him from over the island, your thoughts going all sorts of ways -- namely, deep into the gutter. “Want to break for lunch?”

You see Aaron shake his head, still typing furiously on his laptop. “It’s not even noon yet.”

“Brunch?” you try again, walking out of the kitchen. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest in the way you know he loves because of the view it gives him of your cleavage. And you’re wearing a v-neck shirt today for that exact reason, too.

Aaron still doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry honey, maybe in an hour?”

You let out a huff that you know he hears because he finally looks up, eyebrows raised just so. It’s a look that you love. Curious, veering toward that playful annoyance that you can’t seem to go a few hours without his undivided attention. 

Which, you can, by the way. You’re more than capable. It’s just that right now, it’s a crime that his eyes have been looking at paperwork when they should be looking at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and there’s some hesitation in his voice. You know he’s assuming the worst. That you’re not okay mentally, and that’s why you need him to take his lunch break now or maybe for the rest of the day. He’s done it before on your darker days.

But you’re okay. You’re perfectly fine. You’d just be even better if he put the damn laptop away and put his fingers to use somewhere else.

Which is exactly why you come to a stop in front of him and reach forward, tilting his screen down and down until it closes. He lets you.

He lets you take his laptop and put it on the table beside the couch. He watches you, his fiery brown eyes taking in every second. He lets you straddle his hips, your arms circling his neck.

“I see now,” he smirks, his hands finding their rightful place on your waist and squeezing lovingly. “By ‘lunch break’ you mean…”

“Put a baby in me,” you blurt, rocking your hips against his.

He stills, his hands making you stop your movements, too. His eyes are darker now in a way you haven’t seen in a while. “What?”

“Please,” you say, leaning your forehead down onto his, trying to move your hips again. “Need you.”

“Honey, we can’t have--”

“Yes I know the semantics, Aaron,” you mutter, now annoyed and lifting your head to glare at him. He has a vasectomy, you get that. “I mean fuck me like you’re putting a baby in me.”

His hands squeeze again. “I see.”

You frown. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not,” he smirks, one hand leaving your waist to stroke your cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re horny.”

You roll your eyes, peeling yourself off his lap. He lets you go, albeit with a curious look. You turn and head for the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he calls out after you, still with that damn smirk lacing his words.

“To get myself off,” you reply in a deadpan. “Since someone--”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence before Aaron is right behind you, hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him. That look full of fire is back again, stern this time.

“Did I say you could do that?” he says in a low tone.

“Did I ask?” you retort, backing out of his grasp and darting into the bedroom. 

Now there’s a smirk on your lips. It’s quickly approaching shit-eating grin territory, which you know will only egg Aaron on further. This little game of cat and mouse happens to be your favorite, and he knows it.

You’re barely two steps into the bedroom when Aaron is attached to your back yet again, this time wrapping his arms around your waist, locking you in.

“Color?” he whispers, his lips right at your ear, sending shivers straight down your spine.

You groan. “Green. Neon green. So green, I need you to--”

He spins you again, this time backing you into the wall and attacking your lips. Finally, you think, though you know you’re in for it now. The thought has a grin crawling up your lips, and you’re unable to stop it.

“What’s so funny, hm?” he scolds, moving his lips to your neck instead, to the exact spot he knows makes you weak in the knees. Like clockwork, he has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you upright, your knees buckling when he bites down just so.

“Nothing,” you manage through a moan, tipping your head back onto the wall. “Shit.”

“You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know,” he says, but he’s smiling against your skin. “Can’t let me focus on work because you need me to fuck you.”

“In my defense,” you try, your hands scrambling for his shoulders, for something to ground you. “You didn’t fuck me this morning.”

“I fucked you last night,” he reminds you, as if you needed the reminder. It’s the reason you slept so soundly. “Was that not enough?”

You can’t help it; you laugh. 

He lifts his head, raising an eyebrow at you. The same question as before on his lips.

“Sorry, I thought you were joking,” you say. 

“You’re insatiable.” 

“Guilty,” you grin, grabbing his face and pulling him back in for another kiss.

You make out against the wall for too long like two teenagers behind the bleachers at school. You hook one leg around his hips, pulling him in and grinding against his obvious erection. It’s enough to have him groaning into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with renowned vigor. 

You can feel how wet you’re becoming and fuck, neither of you have even taken a single article of clothing off yet.

Aaron notices, one hand traveling south without you paying attention, too busy relishing the way he licks into your mouth, stealing your every breath. The kissing becomes increasingly sloppy when he works his hand into your leggings, under the waistband of your underwear, and into you.

“Oh my god,” your back arches against the wall, pushing his fingers deeper. He doesn’t bother with one, starting right away with two, curling them when you grind harder.

“You’re soaking my hand,” he practically growls into the next kiss, adding a third finger after only a few thrusts. Your body accepts it willingly, always ready for him. “Jesus.”

“More,” you gasp, pushing him deeper. “Aaron, more, I’m serious--” Your words break off as he scissors his fingers, making your eyes roll back instantly.

“I can feel you already,” he smirks against your cheek, pressing a kiss there, an action so sweet and gentle compared to what the rest of him is doing. “Come on, honey. You’re cumming as many times as you want.”

That makes you inch closer to the edge at a frightening speed. He says you can cum as many times as you want, but what he means is he’s going to force as many orgasms out of you as he can. Until you tell him to stop or he decides you need a break. 

The thought of being an overstimulated mess in his embrace later has you climaxing against his fingers, your head falling onto his shoulder as his movements never cease, milking every last wave out of you. 

You lift your head in search of his lips again, which he willingly gives to you, his fingers slowing to soothing strokes as you whimper into his mouth. You’ve only had one orgasm and you already feel ruined. He can tell the way you tremble against him, so he checks in once more.

“Green?” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You nod. “Green. You?”

He smirks. “Absolutely.”

He picks you up into his arms, inelegantly tossing you onto the bed behind you. You giggle as you bounce on the mattress, tugging your shirt over your head as he does the same to his. His hands move for his belt and you practically jump to the end of the bed, swatting his hands away.

“Since when is that your job?” you frown up at him, unbuckling his belt without looking.

He laughs, petting your head gently. “So sorry, you’re right.”

“What was that?” you tease. “I don’t think I heard you.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” you smirk, pulling his belt out of the loops and tossing it somewhere. You don’t wait for him to reply before you unbutton his jeans, yanking them down with his boxers.

There’s just something about his dick. You hate that you love it, or maybe you don’t hate it at all. All you know is you need it in your mouth right now.

So, you do that, without any warning. Aaron thrusts forward into your mouth on pure instinct, not expecting you to wrap your lips around him so soon. You slide down the edge of the bed onto your knees, pulling him back to you by his thighs. 

You take your time, pushing his jeans and boxers down further. When you pull back for air, he steps out of them and kicks them elsewhere, returning to you quickly, knowing better than to keep you waiting. 

You swallow him down again, moaning around him in the way you know he loves. It takes all of two seconds before he gently holds the back of your head, asking silently for permission that you were already about to grant. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes as you squeeze his thigh twice. Go ahead.

The thing about Aaron fucking your face is that it took a while for him to do it as hard as you really wanted. He’s always so gentle, a quality that drew you to him initially. You love how gentle he can be. But you love it equally as much when he is rougher with you.

Like now, when he has you pinned against the bed, one hand on the back of your head as he fucks into your throat. It’s blissful, quite frankly, the way he feels, and you thank the universe every time for your lack of a gag reflex. 

He holds you there with a deep groan, and you feel him twitch in your throat once before he pulls you off entirely. You frown up at him, once again not getting what you wanted, but he doesn’t have any time for that.

He picks you up by your armpits, hauling you back onto the bed. Your leggings and underwear are gone in a single second, along with your bra. He’s crawling up your body and crowding your space before you have a second to protest that he wasn’t down your throat for near as long as you wanted him to be. 

All frustrations leave your mind the second he pushes inside of you, immediately sliding home, his hips flush against yours. 

It’s a feeling you’ve grown to love, the way he hits you so deep. Another thing it took him a while to be comfortable doing.

He’s not average sized by any means, and you’re the first to admit it made you salivate the first time you saw. The first time he fed himself into you and worried that he was hurting you, meanwhile you were clawing his back because you wanted more. It hurt for a moment, only an uncomfortable pressure because he was bigger than your vibrator, but as soon as you were used to the size of him, you wanted all of him.

He stays there, deep in you without moving for a moment, grinding against you. His lips attack yours again before he pauses to lean his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath.

“You drive me crazy,” he says on a shaky exhale.

You wrap your legs around him, thrusting your hips up to take him a little more. His hips stutter, pushing in the way you wanted him to, the way you know you can make him do involuntarily.

“Fuck,” he bites out, turning his attention to your neck again.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging. “Exactly. So why aren’t you moving?”

He nips at your neck. “Because if I move, I will cum right away.”

“Who said I only want you to cum inside me once?”

He groans again, fingers digging into your hips as you circle them, though he doesn’t try to stop you. “Greedy” is all he says, but he finally moves.

The thrusts are slow at first, Aaron clearly trying to pace himself. You can’t say you’re doing the same, already chasing your second high as he slams his hips into yours. Your hand reaches down to rub your clit, but is promptly smacked away by Aaron’s hand as he glares at you.

“Since when is that your job?” he echoes you from earlier, only this time, there’s more heat to it. He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head to stop any other temptation. “Not this time.”

His thrusts pick up speed and depth, his body moving against yours in the exact way that makes you fall apart. It’s not often that he doesn’t let you cum from added clit stimulation -- not that you can’t without it; it just makes the high feel that much better -- but sometimes he does. It’s an ego trip for him as much as it is for you.

It also adds an unpredictable nature to it, which is why your second orgasm takes you by such surprise. You seize against him, your hands doing all sorts of squirming to try to break free of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you, and he doesn’t let up. You don’t realize why until you feel the warmth spreading into you as he reaches his own peak. 

You’ve clearly worked him up as much as you worked yourself up because his thrusts barely slow down, and he doesn’t soften inside of you. 

Instead, he pulls out only to flip you on your side, sliding in behind you and pulling your leg up and back over his hips. The action causes some of his cum to spill out of you, but you don’t have any time to focus on that before he fucks back into you. 

You’ve ceased to have any coherent thoughts as Aaron whispers dirty nothings into your ear, one arm wrapped around your body to keep you pinned against him. The pleasure doesn’t stop and at one point, you question if your second orgasm stopped at all or if it has continued this entire time.

Aaron reaches underneath the pillow where he knows he’ll find one of your vibrators because he heard you using it this morning. No, he didn’t fuck you this morning, but you fucked yourself, and truly, at 8am, he should’ve known you’d end up like this by eleven. 

Your mind doesn’t register what the sound means until the vibrator is pressed against your clit. Your body jerks, scrambling for some grounding, your hands finding it in wrapping them around his arm. 

He switches hands on the vibrator, so one hand is free to wrap around your throat. Your eyes roll back as soon as you feel the gentle pressure, your body practically going limp against him. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs directly into your ear, his thrusts slowing to deep strokes. “You’ve got a couple more in you.”

“A couple?” is all you manage to say, your hand squeezing his wrist so he knows to squeeze your throat a little more.

“Mhm,” his voice rumbles in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. “Is it too much?” His question is laced with just the right amount of pity that makes you shake your head against him. “I thought so,” he replies, switching the vibrator to a higher setting.

It sends you into your third orgasm instantly, squirming violently against him as he pushes into you deeper. He knows how much you love that, and loves how much you squeeze around him as he slides inside, fighting against your muscles that threaten to force him out. You’ve done it before, a mesmerized look on his face and yours when you both realized what happened. Since then, you told him you liked it more when he fought to stay inside. 

He takes the vibrator away as you calm down, his hips also pausing, keeping himself deep inside you. The pressure is soothing, and you take a moment to take a deep breath. His palm falls away from your throat, instead propping underneath your cheek.

It takes a few seconds before you feel yourself spasming around him. He chuckles against your back, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Still?”

You nod dumbly, rocking your hips again. “Yeah. I don’t know, I just-- Need more.”

“I’ve got you,” he soothes, pulling out again to roll you onto your stomach instead, one of your favorite positions.

You’re floating as you settle into the pillows, letting Aaron manhandle you wherever you need to be. You groan in your happy, blissed out state as he slides home again, draping himself over your back.

He is gentler now, knowing that’s exactly what you need at this point. The last orgasm he pulls from you is just as gentle, and he pushes deeper into you, letting you ride it out. 

He pulls your hips up and thrusts once, twice before he’s spilling into you. You didn’t realize he was that close again. The warmth is soothing this time as it spreads through you. 

Aaron leaves you only to settle behind you, spooning you once again. Your hand reaches behind you to find him, and he catches your wrist. 

“You need to rest,” he chides softly.

“I know,” you whimper. “Need you inside me.”

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck as he slides in again, still half-hard, but it’s enough. You settle down as soon as the weight of him is tucked inside you again. “Better?”

“Mhm,” you sleepily nod, pushing back into him so he holds you tighter. “Do you have to go back to work?”

He chuckles against you, sighing. “No, I’m done for the day, I think,” he says. “I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”

That makes you laugh. “We need a better excuse.”

“Or I need to go back to working in the office.”

You roll your eyes. “Like that’ll make a difference.”

He shakes his head, his mind remembering the same memories that you are. The many lunch hours when you went to eat with him, and ended up with your back pressed into the couch, his tie stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Go to sleep,” he says, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’ll make us lunch when we wake up.”

“Perfect,” you smile, nuzzling into him. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” he says, pressing little kisses to your neck and cheeks, wherever he can reach. “Now sleep.”

You’re already halfway there. The combination of him nestled inside of you and the post-orgasm exhaustion is enough to lull you into a restful sleep.

[c0llisiion]

  — dilf!bangchan

★ breeding,pregnancy,unprotected sex ; W/C: 628

This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable.

sex with dilf!chan would be so heavenly. His pudgy fingers rubbing slow circles on your clothed pussy, preparing you for taking his fat, girthy cock. His hand under your body, massaging your tender tits and tongue, worked diligently on your shoulders and neck as you lay on your stomach, squirming and whimpering at his touches.

 “Shhh… You gotta keep quiet, baby… don’t wanna wake up the brats, do we?” You tightly bit your lip and shook your head, trying to contain the whines. He smiled against your neck and placed a small hickey on the same spot as a reward for your obedience. He knew you would break at some point, but he didn’t really have to worry much since his kids were heavy sleepers (like him). Your slick coated your panties and it was sticking to his fingers. He hummed and chuckled at how wet you were. “So wet and warm… You want me to fuck you braindead, don’t you?” You squirmed and nodded, wanting his cock in you as soon as possible. “Beg for it doll… Tell me how much you need my cock…” You let out a muffled whine before speaking up. “Need your cock sb chan…. I want you to fill me up… i want to be full of your cum… full of your babies…” Chan shifted his position as you spoke, straddling your thighs. His hands run up and down your spine before gently lifting your hips. You arched your back immediately and waited for him to enter you. He chuckled darkly at the sight before pulling your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening wet pussy. You were so ready for him. “Impatient are we today?” You whined in response. “It’s okay baby i got you…” he leaned forward and kissed your temple. “Just keep quiet for me… or else you’re gonna have big consequences…” he said sternly. You nodded and bit down on the soft pillow to muffle your moans. 

You shivered as you felt a glob of his spit on your hole. His large tip slapped against your wet core, spreading his spit on your lips. He rubbed his cock up and down on your slit, teasing you. You whined and reached from behind to maneuver his cock into your hole. Chan chuckled and slapped your hand away before shoving his cock in your sopping wet pussy, making you gasp and moan at the sudden action. Your eyes rolled back, and you bit down on the pillow harder as he wasted no time in moving. His cock slipped in and out of your pussy. Your walls clenched around his hard length. Chan groaned as he felt your warmth around him. He absolutely loved the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his thick dick. His pace was slow, but the thrusts were harsh. He leaned down and pulled your body close to his, whispering dirty nothings into your ear. “God you feel so good… so warm.. so tight…” “this pussy is just for me right? Tight little pussy belongs to me?” You nod incoherently at his words. “Look at you all dumb on my cock… want me to fill you up don't you? Don’t worry baby… i will fill you up real good… make you my pregnant mama…” he groaned and thrusted in harder. The idea of you being pregnant with his child was driving him crazy. “Gonna have you swollen and full of my kids… yeah? Would you like that?” You nodded and pulled him closer, moaning into the pillow like a bitch in heat. Chan grunted and moaned in your ears as he continued drilling your pussy. Sending you to cloud nine. You felt your orgasm approach, but then- “daddy…? Are you in there…?” 

A/N: thank yew for reading!!! I decided to write a chan fic after what i saw at the dominate tour in seoul (i was there.) and i needed to write something to quench that urge 😞😞😞 anyways i hope you liked it!!!

Also lmk if yall are fw the new look or should i go back to the old one? Please lmk!!

Masterlistttt!

[f1fantasys]

Lando, you and some other friends are spending the weekend with hiking and camping. But being the clumsy one you kinda slipped and hurt yourself. Lando offer to help you to go back to the tent and you just innocently ask him to massage your feet. At first it’s just an innocent act and Lando purely wants to help as a friend. Until you accidentally moan and it turns him on and the massage is not so innocent anymore. He then promise you it’s just a tip but well… all men do is a lie 😜

TIP-SY

Warnings - explicit smut 😇

Note - this pic has made me FERAL.

F1 summer break meant a parade of different experiences and getaways. As a presenter for Sky, you were quite close to some of the drivers. Lando, in particular, was one of your favorites, though he doesn't know that. You wouldn't say you were close to him, but you'd now been on a fair share of getaways with him and other mutual friends, and it was safe to say that there was an ever-growing sexual tension between he two of you.

The tension met new heights when you went on a ski-trip in Finland last winter break. You'd often catch each other staring at one-another for far too long, share lingering touches, and dance closely with wandering hands while partying, flirting shamelessly through the days and nights. Your mutual friends always teased you both about when you would finally jump each other - anyone could see the pull that gravitated you towards each other, so it was just a matter of time until the line was crossed.

Right now, you both together with Max and P and Arthur and Jade were out at a secluded resort, camping and hiking for 5 days.

Of course since the other two pairs were couples, it meant you and Lando had to share a tent. Probably the push you needed to be honest, so you weren't complaining one bit because god, you wanted him in ways that would be sinful to say out loud.

You'd arrived this morning and had set out for a hike straight away. Thanks to the gods above, you were clumsy. You were walking in front of Lando when you missed a stone and tripped over it, hurting your ankle while doing so.

''Fuck y/n'' he said, rushing to help you up. ''You okay?'' he asked, but his worry faded away when he saw you chuckling to yourself.

''Yeah good, just little miss clumsy, tripped over a fucking tiny stone'' you said, taking his hand to help you stand up.

You thought you were ok, and even managed to walk another 5 minutes until you decided that you were actually not okay, and wanted to head back to the camp.

Lando, being ever the gentleman, literally hoisted you up and threw you over his shoulder to take you back.

''Lan!'' you shrieked, but you gave you no room for argument. Instead, being a cheeky bugger, he playfully smacked your ass before resuming homage on your thighs for the walk back. You were thankful you were facing the opposite direction, so he couldn't see the blush forming on your face.

Once you got back to the tent he gently placed you on your bed.

''Relax. Gonna get us some water and find you an ice pack. Need anything else?'' he asked.

'''I'm good. Thank you Lan, really for bringing me back'' you sincerely told him, your hand lingering with his for longer than it should have before you pulled away and he walked out of the tent.

''Fuck'' you thought to yourself. You were definitely in too deep.

Lando returned not 10 minutes later with a handful of snacks and drinks.

''Lando did you buy the whole supermarket?'' you asked teasingly.

''Oi, I wont share if you tease me like that!'' he said, dropping everything on your bed and smiling at you.

You wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a desperate kiss but you held yourself back.

''So there were no ice packs but I did find this ointment, says to massage it in gently'' he said, sitting down and lifting your feet onto his lap, taking you by surprise.

''Oh you don't have to, I'll do it'' you said, already sitting up and moving your legs out of his hold but his strong hands stopped you from breaking free.

''You're not saying no to a free foot massage, are you?'' he asked. ''One time offer, by the way'' he finished, winking at you.

It wasn't worth arguing further, so you stuck your tongue out at him and said ''fine,'' relaxing back again.

His touch was gently but it felt oh so heavenly, and without realizing it you let out an involuntary moan as you felt the pleasure rip through your body.

He chuckled, though he didn't find it funny one bit. His mind was racing as to what other noises you would make and if they'd sound as good as you just did.

''Feel good?'' he asked.

''Hmm yeah, never better'' you said, eyes closed and smiling.

Lando couldn't get your noise out of his head, and he felt his dick growing harder with each second that past.

A few minutes later you moaned again, and that was his breaking point.

''Y/n'' he said, in warning.

Your breath hitched as he said you name. You cleared your throat and mumbled an apology.

You looked down at him and took a deep breath in. His eyes were shades darker than they were before and he was looking at you with such an intensity.

''Lan'' you cooed, not sure what you wanted him to say or do.

He gently placed your feet back down on the bed and hovered above you, putting all his weight on his hands instead of your body.

Your eyes stayed glued to one another's until he finally stooped low and captured your lips in a swift movement.

You instantly bought your hands to his face, cupping it as he lowered his body so you could finally feel him.

The kiss was messy and desperate, spit already running down both of your chins'.

You moaned again and he pulled back only to whisper ''you don't know what that fucking does to me y/n,'' before he leaned down again and quickly slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring it.

You pulled at his curls which had his moaning in return, smiling through the kiss.

His lips left yours and moved down to your neck, very quickly finding your sweet spot where his bit and sucked at it then soothed it with his tongue.

''Lan'' you said, begging him for more.

''I know babygirl'' he said, his hand snaking down and slipping past your leggings to your core - which was dripping wet by now.

He pulled his head up to look at you again. ''So fucking wet. For me, yeah?'' he asked.

''For you'' you whimpered as your felt him slide his fingers through your folds.

He found your clit and immediately assaulted it bu pinching at pulling at it. By now your moans were obscene, the feeling of his hand down there stimulating to your core.

''More, Lan'' you begged again, biting down on your lower lip before pulling his face back to yours so you could kiss him again.

With ease, he slid two fingers through your entrance at once. Your back arched off the bed and your nails dug into his biceps.

You whimpered again as he set a quick pace, thrusting in and out of you and curling his digits at just the right time to tap the spongy spot inside of you.

''So tight, fuck you're gonna feel amazing around me'' he whispered, adding a third finger to the mix.

You couldn't help but moan at the thought of finally fucking him, but you needed to calm yourself down before getting ahead.

His lips were back on your neck now and you leaned to the side to give him better access, lightly biting at his biceps.

He sped up his pace and you soon felt the all too familiar heat pooling in your stomach.

''I'm close'' you coxed out, breathing increasing.

''Do it'' he mumbled. ''Let it out.''

Lando made his thumb brush against your clit with each thrust and in no time you were releasing all over his fingers, moaning his name through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut.

You panted through your breaths, expecting him to slow down and ride you through your orgasm but if anything, he sped up even more.

''I know you have more in you, come in, y/n'' he said, hiding his head in the crook of your neck and nibbling on your ear.

Your breath hitched again. ''Lan'' was all you were able to get out, and not two minutes later you were gushing all over his fingers again, your throbbing pussy clenching around them which had him moaning with you.

''Fuck'' you let out a breath as he slowed his fingers and pulled them out of you.

He pulled back, looking at you again and took his digits into his own mouth, sucking him clean and moaning at the taste of you.

''My new favorite flavor'' he said, smirking, before kissing you again.

He pulled back for a second to remove you t-shirt, ridding is as well before returning his lips to yours.

Your hands explored his muscle-clad body, internally moaning at how hot he was - physically and mentally.

His hands also roamed your body, stopping at your boobs and giving them a few squeezes before sliding them under your bra and pinching at your nipples.

The action had your back arching, digging your nails into his skin.

Your mind was racing at 1000 miles per hour, trying to catch up to what was happening. A feel of joy and euphoria overwhelming you.

Lando took your bra off completely and you didn't miss the way he licked his lips when he looked at them.

He roughly took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked and bit at it, earning breathless moans from you as you pulled on his hair, edging him on.

''Fuck, yes, please'' you moaned.

''So fucking perfect angel'' he whispered, rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

He continued his onslaught for a while until you started ti grow impatient. You pussy was desperate, clenching around nothing.

''Lando please'' you begged him. He quickly notes that he loved it when you begged him.

He finally sat back on his knees and looked at you, though the expression you had on your face was not one he was expecting to see.

You weren't looking back at him with lust and desperation, instead you looked confused and constricted.

Rewind - just as you had begged him for more, your mind caught up to what was happening and something clicked. You liked Lando, too much, and you didn't want just a quick fuck.

''Baby?'' he asked.

''Lan, ugh, fuck. I like you too much for just a one time fuck'' you said, slightly shy at your confession and use of words.

His eyes grew wide and he couldn't help but chuckle a sarcastic one.

''You seriously think I want just a fuck from you? Really y/n?'' he questioned.

''I-I'' you started but he cut you off.

''You're fucking blind if you think I don't like you and want to be with you for something real. Fuck y/n you're the most amazing person, and yes i want to fuck you senseless right now, but i want to fuck you senseless everyday, and after that I want to clean you up and cuddle with you and fall asleep with you, and wake up with you!''

Words had left your brain by now so instead you just pulled him down for a feverish, passionate kiss. ''I want all that too'' you said between pecks at his lips the both of you smiling.

Just as Lando was about to pull your leggings down again you stopped him, again.

He pulled back and gave you a questioning look.

''Lan fuck we can't do it now like this, in a tent in the middle of nowhere!'' you blurted out.

''You're joking, right?'' he asked, unable to keep a smile a bay.

You tried to keep a stern face but failed miserably as he ignored you and took your leggings off.

''I'm serious! We can't have our first fuck like this''

Lando groaned. ''Ugh, ok, how about this - just the tip''

''Huh?'' you asked.

''I just let my tip enter you, for now, until your 'content' with the perfect date'' he reasoned.

You took a few seconds to think. You were so desperate for him, but at the same time you were so desperate for everything to be perfect, so maybe him inserting just his tip was a win-win.

''Okay fine'' you said, palming him through his shorts.

His own breath hitched as you pulled down his shorts and freed his aching dick.

You'd always suspected he'd be big. But not this big. You were speechless, thinking how the hell he was gonna fit in you. It stood tall and angry, begging for attention, with precum already dripping out the slit at the top.

''Easy,'' he said, seeing you thinking at a million miles per hour. ''I'll take care of you'' he whispered.

You nodded you head and he settled above you again. He slid his cock through your wet folds numerous times, often stopping at the clit to push against it, as he kissed you for the hundredth time today.

''Please, need you'' you mumbled.

And finally, he entered you. Just feeling his tip was a sore enough stretch, but it felt fucking amazing.

He slid out and pushed in again, hands on your hips to hold you still while your nails were digging into his neck muscles.

''Fuck baby, so tight'' he said, breath faltering each each movement.

''Lan you're so fucking big, feels so good'' you managed to mumble, pulling his lips down to yours for a feverish kiss.

A few thrust later, Lando's eyes turned shades darker. ''Y/n, i need you you. All of you, please'' he begged.

You knew what he meant because you wanted him just as much, and just as you started saying ''Ye-'' yes to him, he bottomed out, thrusting his whole dick into you.

You had no time to react, your breath getting caught into your throat as he was fucking into to at a relentless pace.

''Shit, how are you so fucking tight y/n, feels so good'' you said through gritted teeth.

''Hmm Lando. Fuck. Please. Harder. Give me more'' you begged him again, the pleasure fully taking over the pain and every time you shut your eyes you swear you could see stars.

His face was close to yours, breath mingling with yours and as he tightened his grip on your waist, surely leaving bruises for tomorrow, while you wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could, nails now stretching at his back.

You weren't surprised to already feel the warmth in your stomach building up. ''Lan I'm close'' you warned as he bought his fingers to toy with your clit.

The noises in the tent were obscene, and if anyone were to walk past they'd surely hear both of your pornographic moans and slick bodies slamming each other.

''Let it out'' he said breathlessly, lips violently sucking on your nipples as you pulled on his hair as hard as you could.

In no time you body was shaking underneath him, your juices gushing all over his dick and dripping out of you.

'Fuck me, Lando'' you moaned his name over and over again, praising him.

He didn't slow his movements, instead he quickened his pace further, chasing his own orgasm now as you felt his dick start to twitch and his movements become careless.

''So proud of you, taking me so well. Fucking waited for this day for too long. Not gonna get you go now y/n, you're too fucking amazing'' he said through grunts and moans.

hearing him say that tipped you over the edge again, violently releasing around him again. You let out a series of moans and closed your eyes, rolling them to the back of your head.

''Gonna cum, where do you want it?'' he asked, though you were too fucked out to say anything back.

''Y/n, tell me. Fuck I can't hold on anymore'' he all but shouted through gritted teeth.

''Ug, fuck, in me. Cum in me, please'' you finally said.

He bit down on your shoulder as you felt him shoot sheets of warm cum to paint your walls, his body shuddering above yours, now praising your name.

Finally he slowed his movements and settled still, still inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his back and held him as tight as you could as he settled his weight on you.

You both tried to catch your breaths, unable to move or say anything but just content to be in each others' arms.

Lando's head was nestled in your hair while yours was just in the perfect position to leave kisses on his shoulder.

He finally pulled his head up after some time and gave you a sheepish smile. He looked handsome as ever, and his curls were stuck to his forehead with a thin sheet of sweat that was dripped down his neck.

You couldn't help but lean up and lick the sweat that was dripping off.

Lando moaned again/ ''Úgh y/n, you're incredible. That was amazing'' he cooed, pecking your nose and looking back at you.

You decided you had to tease him a bit. ''You said 'just the tip!' what happened to that?'' you asked, chuckling so he'd know you were only playing him.

He raised a brow. ''How can i not give you a good fuck when you're here looking all pretty and making the best sounds from your mouth?'' he questioned back causing you to blush.

''Ugh, okay but you still owe me a romantic dinner'' you replied.

''Deal. You're mine now'' he said, kissing you again.

A/N - this was sooo much fun to write! Please send more requests!!

These pics though 😮‍💨

[princessbrunette]

people often ask if rafe is ever nice to puppy!reader. of course he is. he just has to be in the right mood.

it wasn’t any kind of behaviour from you that he wasn’t expecting — you were a pogue for gods sake, and one that acted like a stray dog at best — so when you come running into tanny hill after falling out a nearby tree with a bloody hand, rafe is far from surprised.

“the hell did you do now?” he drawls, instantly lifting you under the arms and walking you like that to the kitchen sink as you sob. it had scared you more than anything, and he could tell straight off looking at it that it wasn’t broken or sprained — just all bloody which made it look a lot worse than it was. rafe had his fair share of accidents growing up, especially getting into fights with guys from your side of the island, so he was used to patching up his own hands and wrists.

he places you infront of the tap, listening to your whines and sniffles as you run your hand under the cold water, watching the red slowly wash away as rafe rummages in the drawers for the first aid kit, exasperatedly opening it up on the kitchen counter. he dabs at your hand with a paper towel, drying it off before rustling around the kit.

“the fuck were you thinking, huh? could have knocked yourself out. maybe that would teach you.” he lectures, but he’s not particularly in the worst mood so there’s no real threat behind it. “keep your hand still, alright?” he mutters, quietly in concentration as he begins to wrap it with a bandage.

but the tears keep coming, so unlike your usual happy silly ways. once you’re all bandaged he lets you snuggle against him there in the kitchen, getting tears and snot all over his polo as he sighs, shaking his head and rubbing your back. when you don’t stop crying, really working yourself into a state he feels he has no choice but to lift you, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and burrow into his shoulder.

“alright— okay, it’s over, it’s done kid— just quit crying. you’re fine.” he bounces you anyway and you calm slightly, feeling better now that he was holding you. he was coming to learn that sometimes that was all you needed and a little bit of kindness and warmth went a long way with him. he told himself he’d work on it because it did not come too naturally.

he’s not sure what else to do in terms of physical comfort, so he does what he knows best and snakes his hand under your denim skirt over your ass where he’s holding you. you quiet down a little more, permitting him, drooling and chewing on the collar of his polo.

“yeah… that better?” he asks once he starts rubbing you over your panties and you let out a loud shaky breath, nodding against him. “m’talkin’ to you kid, speak.”

“yes feels b’tter…” you hiccup and he deflates a little, relaxing into it there and then in the tanny hill kitchen as he continues stroking you, listening to your breathing calm.

soon, he’s fucking your clit with his thumb, knuckles deep with your legs still pinned around his waist, voice cracking and breaking into his shoulder. you let out a particularly loud sob and he tsks.

“hey, don’t start this shit again on me alright? just take it… thats right.” he manages to bounce you a little, forcing his fingers deeper and you go limp, body weight dropping against him even more. “uh-huh. got what you need, don’t i?” he mutters as you groan, unable to speak.

say what you want about rafe, but he’d always help you out when you need it.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook gets his motorcycle license and you don’t believe in fate.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, a dash of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: protective!bf jungkook 🫡 / jk gives oc h*ckeys / jk is sad and scared bc many couples r breaking up :( then he gets h*rny and i can’t blame him bc oc is hot / oc loves short skirts n jk is stressed / oc gets an anxiety attack !! bc they thought jk got into an accident / bam cameo <3

> in which masterlist!

note: ART REPORTING FOR DUTY 🫡 it’s been a while so i feel quite rusty and my brain is fried pls bear with me </3 i’m excited to post regularly again and get back into the flow hehe. as always feedback and reblogs are appreciated! 🥺

—

it is a rather calm afternoon in your shared apartment. you and jungkook may be together in the living room, but you’re each spending your alone time.

you’re sitting on the couch with bam’s head on your lap, your not-so-little baby sleeping soundly. you indulge yourself in a fashion magazine, occasionally lifting your head when you sense your boyfriend staring at you longingly from the desk. he would quickly avert his eyes to feign obliviousness, switching between the laptop or his phone to busy himself.

“babe, spit it out.” you giggle, lowering down the magazine from your face. “is there something wrong…? what do you want?”

“no, it’s nothing. just ignore me.”

“then you’re going to be upset with me when i actually do it?”

“yah! that’s not true!” he looks at you wide-eyed, chest puffing up in defense. “it’s really nothing, okay? you can go back to reading.”

“mkay, whatever you say… i’m not reading, though.”you mumble the last sentence, burying your nose in the magazine again.

with a glittery golden-inked pen, you draw a star beside a bag from the spring/summer collection that you fell in love with at first sight. you hear the clacking of the keyboard pause and resume, pause and resume, but you ignore your boyfriend’s beseeching glances like he asked you to.

minutes pass by on the clock as you flip the pages with twinkling eyes and silent squeals, but they feel like hours to jungkook.

he blinks at the laptop screen as he sinks his teeth on his bottom lip.

he just needs to do it— get it over with. whatever it is, he’s certain that the two of you could reach some sort of compromise… right?

he puts on a face of determination before wheeling the gaming chair towards where you are. and with no one to blame but himself, he releases a disgruntled noise when he collides with the leather couch. the impact sends him a couple of feet away from his destination, but his hands find purchase on your exposed thighs and he brings himself back to you.

his clinginess never fails to fill your stomach with butterflies.

you smile in secret, silent as he hooks his arms underneath your knees and lies his head beside bam’s. he kisses bam’s forehead, and in a somewhat twisted way, you are grateful for all the times the universe tugged at the string of joy and made you chase after it, because it led you here.

he has folded himself in a position that looks wildly uncomfortable, but jungkook likes to torture his senses for some reason, so you let him be. you pretend that no one has invaded your space, attached theirself to you so close that you’re carrying a quarter of their weight; feeling tickled by their exhales against your skin.

you planned to mix yourself a cocktail halfway through your magazine, but that is pushed to the bottom of things you can do now that your boyfriend is displeased with the lack of attention from his lover.

“this won’t do!”

his impatience forces him out of the chair and onto the couch, where he sneaks his strong arms around your waist. the movements shakes bam awake from his slumber. the doberman sits up, tiredly blinks at his father as if he is so done, and leaps off the couch to strut to his house.

jungkook scratches his head guiltily. “bam! dad is sorry that he disturbed your sleep!”

to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t receive a reply.

“oh, bam, are you mad at me…? you can’t be, right? you must understand… we both really love ____, don’t we?”

but he does receive one from you— a fond gaze that thinks of him bizarre.

“he’s not mad!” he defends himself.

“he should be. we were having a peaceful time together.”

“yah, that’s so mean. i’m part of this family too!” he complains with a scowl. “i want to cuddle.”

“no one’s stopping you, babe.”

this time, he hides his face in the crook of your neck.

he breathes you in, and his mind becomes clouded with the natural scent of you, so uniquely you, sweet and fresh like the clouds on a spring day, mixed with a hint of strawberries. humans smell fragrant flowers and break off their stems. jungkook smells you and he bites, sinks his teeth on your skin, sucks, again and again, and then soothes the ache with a slow and gentle slide of his tongue, but it doesn’t erase the marks that blossom into a hue of a bruise.

he licks his lips, wet with saliva, feeling cocky with the memory of your sharp inhales— cockier when he lifts his head and sees the dilation of your pupils behind a curtain of haze.

however, they’re still trained towards the fashion items printed on paper that you so desperately wish would materialize into thin air.

he groans.

“baaaaby,”

“mhmmm?” you mimic the tone of his whine, resting your head on his shoulder— just to be closer, let him know you’re here and you’re listening.

he clears his throat, prepares for the worst.

“these days, there’s something i’ve been thinking of a lot… i’ve been researching here and there, too…”

“about?”

“motorcycles…”

“okay,”

“okay?”

bewildered by your nonchalant response, he pulls away to squint at you in suspicion.

“…i’m planning to buy one and get a license? like, maybe next week?”

“okay,” you repeat yourself.

hit with a twinge of confusion, you briefly tear your eyes away from the beautiful gowns worn by beautiful models.

“are you telling me or are you asking me?”

“uh- uhm,” he stutters. “i’m telling you.”

“alright then,”

his chest puffs up as he inhales sharply. “that’s it?!”

“what do you want me to say?” you flip a page, a flicker of amusement flashing across your face. “you’re not allowed to…? i mean- sure, i can do that, too.”

“no, no, no, no, no-” he kisses your cheek— nearly, barely, he’s smiling too big to do it properly. “no, really! are you serious?”

“why won’t you believe me?” the magazine lands on your lap as you cross your arms in annoyance. “what do you think of me?”

“i heard couples really fight about this in particular, though?” he chuckles, and it’s your pouted lips’ turn to be granted a kiss. “sorry, i assumed you won’t approve of this one. you’re so strict with me about driving safely.”

“it’s no problem because i know you’re responsible. i just get worried sometimes,” you mumble. “when you’re tired from work.”

“i know,”

“good,” you sigh, leaning into him to steal a kiss yourself. “can i just ask you for one thing then?”

“yes,” he nods eagerly. “anything.”

“if i find out that you didn’t wear a helmet one time…” you tuck your bottom lip in between your teeth, unsure what type of reaction you will elicit. “you’re getting rid of it.”

“three times-”

“oh my god, absolutely not!”

the sheer horror painted on your face further fuels his mischief.

“twice?”

“you said anyth-”

“please?”

“no! then i’m getting rid of it myself!”

you shove his shoulder, and he allows himself to fall flat on the couch before bouncing back with the mission to ease your mind.

“i’m just joking, baby!” his giggles fill the entire apartment.

he cages your face in his hands but you stubbornly resist.

“i’m joking- i’m joking. i’m sorry. come here, give me a kiss.”

he makes a smooching sound with his puckered lips and you send an unimpressed glare in return.

“promise me first,” your fingers wrap around his wrist to deny his affectionate advances. “one time!”

“i promise!”

“and you won’t get angry at me?”

and with that, his heart begins to ache in his chest. the shift in your voice, the nervousness blanketed by softness… fuck.

“how hard can that possibly be?”

he just remembered how upset you were when he got himself infected after visiting a tattoo shop in america. you told him it would probably be best to do more research on the place, but he isn’t jungkook if he isn’t stubborn. it was hell, to say the least. being in pain and fighting with you for days. you would tend to him and the silence would rub salt on the wound.

today, however, he was more than prepared to defend his case in the event that he faces rejection.

he doesn’t.

on the contrary, he is a given a gift.

“i hate you,” you whimper, but your words contradict the way you respond to his kisses— the sharpness of them has been dulled by his tongue. he tastes like the green apple lollipop that you completely forgot you left on the desk four days ago.

he draws back with a playful grin.

thief… your kisses and your candy and your body and your heart. all his.

“huh, you don’t mean that.”

“i do!”

“i love you,” he utters tenderly. “i trust you to set me straight when i need to get my shit together.”

“then you understand that i just don’t want it to become a habit, right…?”

what does he think of you? a person who treats him with utmost gentleness, supports his happiness, and worries about his safety— a person more important to him than himself.

“and even if it’s only one time… we never know what’s going to happen. i wouldn’t be able to bear seeing you outside the celebrity segment of the news. jungkook, i swear.” you pray that he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice, disguising it with a layer of humor. “i will lose my mind.”

“of course i understand! that won’t ever happen, baby! i want to tell you not to worry too much, but… but to be honest… i think i will be more upset if you don’t lecture me about this kind of thing at all.”

“really?”

“yes. because then doesn’t that mean you no longer care about me?”

this whole time, you’ve been saying i don’t want you to get hurt i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you, and he hears you clearly— like how one recognizes their favorite song playing in public even from far away.

you smile sheepishly. “show me the motorcycle you want.”

your outspoken interest makes jungkook’s face light up like a christmas tree.

“there’s actually a few that i’m looking at…” he trails off, running back to the desk to grab his laptop.

“i’ll help you choose!” you clap your hands excitedly. “is there a pink one?”

“pink?!” he exclaims, which is then followed by endeared laughter. “you want it?”

you assume that he is going to ignore the silly idea, that is until he returns to his seat beside you.

“sure, there should be one somewhere.” he whispers, more to himself, typing away on the keyboard to feed your curiosity.

“really? really?” you babble, clinging to his arm to take a peek at the screen.

“hmmm,” he hums. “get a license too and i’ll buy it for you.”

a sound of disapproval bubbles in your throat. “eh, not for me. i want you to use it.”

jungkook dramatically pauses. he stares at you, doe eyes infront of blazing headlights.

he releases a burdened sigh.

“why me?!”

—

“bend over,” jungkook commands sternly, standing arms crossed infront of the bedroom door to deny your exit. “right now.”

“eh?” you gape at him. “but aren’t we goi-”

“i said turn around, baby.”

you’re left with no choice when his patience runs thin and he captures your hand— it comes so naturally when you twirl on your toes as if you’re waltzing to a slow love song. he pushes you forward gently, and you carry your innate grace all the way to the arch of your back.

jungkook swallows down a moan elicited by the tantalizing view, clearing his throat. he masks the sound by unceremoniously spanking your ass, the skin-to-skin contact also causing a sharp sting to spread across his palm.

“shit- i knew it, it’s too short.” he tugs your skirt down, a useless attempt at concealing your white lace underwear. he harshly breathes out in exasperation. “baby, i can see everything! you can’t ride a motorcycle wearing this!“

“what? motorcycle?! i can finally ride it?!”

you only heard one word come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, it seems.

you flip in excitement, facing him again with a smile as bright as the sunny sky outside. “you got your license? why didn’t you tell me?!”

“i was going to surprise you but-”

he still looks stressed out, eyes trained to your skirt- well, your legs. the skirt is barely there.

“going back here from the parking lot to change would be-”

“but it’s miu miu,” you quietly remark, looking down at the article of clothing with a frown. “it’s not that short…”

“look at the mirror,” he points to your left with his eyes, but then he is already carrying you by the curves of your waist so that your back is facing it.

you bend down on your own, and jungkook clicks his tongue when you only giggle heartily upon seeing your own reflection.

“it’s fiiine! you’re there to protect me. i just won’t bend down.”

“but won’t you get cold?”

“nope!” you reply without a second to spare. “for fashion, i never get cold.”

it’s been more than five years since he met you; jungkook knows damn well that is very far from the truth. not a single autumn and winter have passed that he didn’t lend you his jacket, his warmth, and then some more, simply because you refuse to stop wearing skirts until you’re at the verge of freezing to death.

alright, maybe he’s being dramatic, and you’re stubborn as hell.

“and i’m wearing my tall boots,” you raise your leg in a straight line to show off the leather brown boots that stop below your knees. “look, look… don’t i look cute?”

cute? such a word won’t do you justice. you’re acting like he’s not also looking at your panties.

“of course,” a soft smile replaces his hardened features. “you look so beautiful, baby.”

“hm, thought so,” you scrunch your nose, and his heart skips a beat.

damn, but that- there’s definitely no other word to describe it but the word cute.

“but how about, let’s say, wearing a coat over it?”

“jungkook! no!” you grunt, punching his arm- but then a lightbulb illuminates your brain.

“or shorts under it-”

“oh my god, i think you have one that matches. i remember i saw it the other day-”

“no, wait, wait, wait- shorts are safer! ____!”

you sprint back to the walk-in closet, leaving jungkook alone in the bedroom.

“come back here!”

he jerks his head in distress, rubbing his eyes harshly with his tattooed knuckles.

“ah, ____!”

“what?!” you yell, voice bouncing off the walls of your apartment. “i found it!”

—

“is it too tight?” jungkook inquires, looking up to you from the floor.

you bend your knees to assess the tightness of knee pads. “nope, it’s good.”

he proceeds to grab the elbows pads he hung over the handle of the motorcycle.

“hmmm, next… you wear these instead.”

you pout, recalling that he forgot his riding jacket at work yesterday. “but what about you?”

“i only have one pair.” he says. “it’s fine, it’s just for now. let’s pick up my jacket at the company before going to the museum.”

“how about let’s wear one each?”

upon processing the mechanics of your suggestion, his tall and broad frame shakes with mirth.

you obviously grew up with little siblings. they were so lucky to have you.

“hey! what are you laughing at?”

“nothing, you’re just cute.” he chuckles, wrapping the other protective pad around your left elbow. “just wear them both. i’m confident with my driving but… i still need you as safe as possible, baby.”

“but jungkook! what if y-” you whine out a protest, which he instantly silences by slipping your helmet over your head. “ugh, you’re so rude!”

he beams with pride as he clips its straps beneath your chin. “wow, it fits so perfectly? i only guessed… ah, as expected of jeon jungkook.”

his hand freezes on the visor when you strike him with the beady eyes, pouting your lips to request for a kiss, which he grants— more than willingly. gladly. happily. with pleasure.

cruising through the city on a motorbike with the love of his life; going on dates; putting on your helmet for you and learning how to angle his face for when he steals a kiss— he used to only witness this in romance films.

at the end of the day he’s just a simple man, jungkook admits.

what a dream come true.

—

it definitely becomes clearer to jungkook today— why you did not oppose the idea of him getting a motorcycle license on such short notice.

“this is so cool!” you squeal behind him, subconsciously raising the pitch of your voice to contest with the wind and the roaring engines.

“____, be careful,” he chides you. “or else i’ll slow down!”

a sense of relief washes over him as you readjust your arms around his waist, your weight resting on him ironically making his chest feel lighter.

if only jungkook could protect you by keeping you bubblewrapped at all times, he would.

“you’re enjoying this more than i expected.”

the two of you idle before a red light. he balances the two-wheeled vehicle with his left foot planted on the ground.

“is it fun?”

“so much fun!” you gush, enthusiasm overflowing past the seams of your lips. “you already drive like a pro!”

“of course! i studied hard! i don’t plan on putting you in danger with my stupidity!”

“still-” you interject. “you’re just good at everything.”

while he is aware that he is gifted in many ways, technically speaking, jungkook knows he can’t possibly be good at everything. but hearing it come from the person he love and adore most in the world? he can’t help but to allow it to inflate his ego a little bit.

ten seconds before the traffic light turns green.

his smirk is hidden inside his helmet, but you can masterfully envision it in your head just from the transparent smugness in his voice.

“time to hold on again, baby.”

“i think you just like me feeling you up.” you muse.

you teasingly slip one hand underneath his shirt to caress his toned stomach, and he hisses out a curse. with how strict you are about road safety, one would assume that you would restrain on being frisky while riding a vehicle thirty times more dangerous than a car. you either have too much in trust your boyfriend or you underestimate your effect on him.

in his case, double the thirty.

the engine roars to life and the wheels screech against the concrete road. your gentle touch turns into a bruising grip on his waist.

jungkook thinks that you might be right. he would never miss an opportunity to feel your skin on his skin. he selfishly decides then and there— he now prefers motorycle rides with you.

—

it doesn’t take you long to catch up to that fact. when he tells you wear something comfortable, you also know not to spend too much time doing something cute with your hair because the helmet will just turn it into a tousled mess. for the past two months, he has been calling you every night to ask whether you want to be picked up from work with the bike or the car, because as much as you both relish in the thrill and the wind and the intimacy, sometimes you fall asleep on the way home from exhaustion and he doesn’t want you… quite literally falling on the streets of seoul.

but today is your day-off, and with your head hanging from the edge of the bed, you tear your attention away from your phone to find jungkook is upside down. he stands outside the bedroom door hugging your rainbow hello kitty plushie to his chest, frowning woefully with a cause you are clueless about.

the contrast of his black t-shirt with the rainbow makes you crack a smile, reminiscent of the countless memes you’ve seen on the internet. you find it funny, but mostly endearing. because you’re the one who loves colors but dreams of nightmares, while he loves dark colors but dreams of stars, fairies, and soaring through skies and different dimensions. you don’t believe in fate. however, jungkook believes that it was fate that brought him to you, and that you are the person he is destined with. you don’t believe in fate, but you wholeheartedly, unequivocally believe in him.

“i was watching the news-” he huffs, seemingly perplexed. “why is everyone breaking up all of a sudden?”

“who broke up?”

he freezes, attempting to recall the names that flashed across the television screen only minutes ago. “i honestly don’t know them, but still!”

“then why are you pouting?”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he carelessly tosses the plushie on the bed before climbing on it, sneaking his arms between your torso and the mattress to engulf you in a bone-crushing embrace. your phone slips away from your grip, buried somewhere in the sheets, but when big bundle of love and warmth is over you, it’s impossible to be consumed by anything else.

you weave your fingers through his hair, whispering teasingly. “scared of being in the headlines too?”

“scared…” he agrees, then he doesn’t. “of losing you.”

he scoots closer to nuzzle his face against your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.

“i-it’s just,” he pauses. “ah, i don’t know! nevermind, forget it.”

“no, tell me. it’s okay.” your hands cup his cheeks, coaxing him to look at you. “tell me what’s bothering you. whatever it is. i’ll listen.”

there’s a glint of melancholy on his glassy eyes, and you desperately want to know what brought forth this pain so you can take it all away. your heart shatters when his nose scrunches into a sniffle, skin becoming more flushed, a shade of red that dusts his skin only when he cries.

“when couples break up after a long time… many of them say…” he trails off, held back by uncertainty.

“they say?” you urge him to continue, pretending to be absorbed in fixing his hair— running your fingers through the soft locks, rearranging his bangs, trying to see if they’re long enough to be tucked behind his ears— all in an indulgent effort to show him that this type of conversation doesn’t need to be awkward or intense.

“they say that… that they just woke up one day and- and realized they were no longer-” his lips curve into a frown, deeper than before, and you mirror him without knowing. “happy, or in love.”

he breathes shakily, avoiding your eyes to gather himself together.

fuck, jeon jungkook. man up! are you seriously going to cry right now? like this?

“and we’ve been together for five years.”

“almost five,” you correct him with a sweet smile, poking his soft cheek right where one of his dimples would be. “our anniversary is right around the corner.”

the unadulterated joy you radiated as you spoke those words makes the trepidation in his brain glitch.

“sorry, i couldn’t help myself. please continue.”

he licks his lips, and then opens his mouth but- “i’ve lost my train of thought.”

“oh my god, i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“you were talking about something serious.” you wince guiltily.

“our anniversary is something serious too!” he points out, pouting cutely.

“yes, but… it’s a different story, breakups are- jungkook! why are you suddenly laughing?!” you sputter, shoving him away in annoyance when you hear a snort in the midst of his uncontrollable giggles. “what’s so funny…? you were just so close to crying!”

he shakes his head profusely, collapsing over you, but he ends up rolling over to the side so he can lie on his back and clutch at his aching belly.

“ah, ____! my heart fluttered when you mentioned our anniversary. i totally forgot what i was talking about!”

if it fluttered earlier, now it goes absolutely wild in his ribcage.

your positions are switched before he can comprehend it— you’re now on all fours on top of him. his head is trapped in between your arms and your gold necklace is dangling over his face and you’re straddling his lap and now it’s getting harder to breathe and not picture obscene images that involve you worshipping his body.

he probably likes this way too much than he cares to admit.

“do you see it now?”

he purses his lips, obviously distracted, controlled by his desire for you as he finds the curves of your waist to caress. “see what?”

“that you don’t need to be anxious about us not being happy in the future, because we’re happy right now.”

he cannot detect an ounce of hesitation even if he tried. you are steady. you are sure. something intangible and inexplicable floods your souls when your eyes meet, but the two of you know that it exists and it is real.

“fuck… i love you. i fucking love you so much.” his voice borders on a growl, and a whimper escapes your lips just before they crash against his for a kiss so full of passion that it completely catches you offguard. he pulled you down so swiftly that your hands anchored on the bed scrambled for his forearms to break your fall, nails digging into his skin as you balance yourself.

jungkook isn’t much for words, but something in him always wants more. he likes to speak with his tongue in a way so sweet that it compels you to abandon your vocabularies in the farthest back of your mind.

you sit down on his lap breathless after making out. your boyfriend watches you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, slipping his hands underneath his head as he cockily grins in satisfaction.

you roll your eyes at the sight of his biceps being shamelessly flexed. “bastard,”

“bastard you’re crazy about,”

“unfortunately,” you sigh with faux disappointment, hugging the hello kitty plushie you picked up from the floor.

“want to go for a ride?”

“to where?”

“anywhere,” he shrugs. “it’s already late so there shouldn’t be traffic anymore.”

you jump off the bed without another word, returning a minute later clad in a black harley davidson jacket. you look so fucking chic and attractive in it, he always pats himself on the back for buying it for you.

jungkook would go against all laws of the universe if it meant spending a hundred more almost five years with you, until the hello kitty plushie you’re still hugging becomes gray and unrecognizable.

“babe, why are you still staring at me like that? i’m ready!”

—

from the entrance, jungkook discerns your familiar figure pacing back and forth across your designated parking spaces. you appear to be engrossed in your phone as you nibble on your thumb, which he knows to be a tell-tale sign of your anxiety. you just got your nails done, and for the first three days, you’re usually very conscious of messing them up.

you fail to notice the loud presence of his motorcycle, not until he has successfully parked and pushed down its side stand on the ground.

“baby! what are you doing out here?”

he lifts off the helmet, ruffling his hair to tame it. and as he brushes his stubborn bangs away from his eyes, that’s when he sees his lover overcome with distraught.

his heart drops to his stomach.

your eyes are filled with unshed tears, chin trembling with the struggle of holding them back.

“jungkook!” you wail out his name, and you haven’t cried this loud since you were sixteen.

an unnamed neighbor walks by the scene and says to theirself, somebody must’ve died.

“yah- why? why, why, why?” he stumbles over his own words in panic, carelessly hanging the helmet on one of the handles of the motorcycle as he gets off. “what’s wrong? baby? what happened?”

you hide your face in the palms of your cold yet clammy hands, ashamed by the surge of your emotions flooding the parking lot as acid rain, but a sense of safety blankets you when jungkook gingerly tugs you towards him.

“i thought something bad happened to you! a car hit a motorcycle nearby- and i thou- i really thought-”

“oh, that’s right! how did you know?” he gasps. “i passed by them earlier. there were so many people and police officers.”

“jungkook!” you snap, hitting his chest in frustration.

“sorry- i’m sorry! okay, that was insensitive of me- fuck.” he rambles, and you visibly cringe when his glove-clad hands touch your face.

the texture, and only god knows all the places it’s been…

“there’s no need to cry, baby! i’m already here, aren’t i? i’m so healthy. there’s not a single scratch on me.”

he hastily takes off his jacket to reveal himself in a white sleeveless shirt. spotless that it looks brand-new.

“see? all good!“

you fall silent. your eyes frantically scan his body, but your brain doesn’t really register anything that you perceive.

“aigoo, why are you shaking so much?”

he can’t bear to watch you in this state. he feels nauseous, almost, like his gut is being twisted and wrung in different ways.

“my baby must’ve been so worried about me, is that right? come here.”

in the solace of jungkook’s embrace, wrapped in his strong arms that are, praise heavens, not broken, the pounding of your heart gradually returns to normal.

his, however, becomes louder. and these days he likes to believe that he is no longer the crybaby he once was, but his skin feels flushed as tears fills his eyes, because damn, what a blessing it is to be loved by you.

he leans on the motorcycle, lovingly rocking you back and forth with shushes and soft hums.

time flies by when you are floating, but jungkook is patient as he waits for you to land and come home to him, even when his feet have fallen asleep.

“you haven’t forgotten your promise?” you whisper.

“never not wear a helmet,” he coos, pressing his lips to your temple. “of course i haven’t forgotten.”

“good,” you mumble, drawing back. “go home and shower. you’re all so sweaty.”

“i will. i feel so sticky.” he chortles. “this is so annoying. i hate summer!”

—

you continue to cling to jungkook all the way to the apartment unit, arms circled around his torso and soft cheek smushed against his back. snuggling him from behind like a koala does a tree is a newly-discovered joy. and if you were single you would be rolling your eyes at a person for saying this, but it is quite wonderful to have a boyfriend for a pillow that is also a blanket. has anyone invented that?

“you know, i regret not getting a motorcycle earlier.”

“why?”

the door opens with a short jovial jingle as a signal.

“i saw someone with a puppy in a basket this morning. it was even wearing goggles! it was really cute!” he laments, dragging you along with him into the living room. “ah, i’m an idiot. why didn’t i think of that? we could’ve done that with bam!”

you form the mental image of tiny baby bam wearing tiny goggles and a tiny leather jacket, and then another, but with the current bam.

“but bam is already as big as the bike!” you dissolve into laughter.

jungkook grunts, and you can’t tell whether he’s genuinely feeling this regretful or he’s just trying to distract you after you broke down with the mind-numbing anxiety of losing him forever.

“exactly!”

you sink into the couch, instinctively reaching for the hello kitty plushie to hug. meanwhile, he begins stripping off his shirt.

“it’s not even possible at all now!”

“but i do want to see him wear goggles…” you say in jest, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your shorts. “should i look for one?”

wait, what do you even type for it? dog goggles?

“i found them. there are helmets, too.” you gasp, covering your mouth as an epiphany hits you. “the puppy wasn’t wearing a helmet?”

driven by curiosity, jungkook sits next to you as you search for the item online. he is practically naked, left wearing only his black calvin klein boxers.

“oh,” he pauses. “now that you mention it, the puppy wasn’t wearing one.”

“how are you still sweaty?” with your thumb, you wipe the bead of sweat threatening to enter his eye. “go shower first.”

he manages to sneak a chaste kiss to your wrist before it becomes out of reach.

“before that, i need to tell you something.”

you bob your head, encouraging him to speak out, but the longer you maintain eye-contact with him, the faster his impulsive courage melts into a puddle of nervousness.

marry me.

marry me.

“baby…”

“yes?” you half-smile. “what is it? you’re starting to scare me.”

marry me.

when i see the future, i only see you.

“i love you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[burnforyou]

STUDY - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! cunnilingus (female receiving), thigh grinding, smut. guys I need him I'm sorry. he has a very sittable face so here’s this. also this is short and kinda lazy but still hot so its okay!

it started innocently: rewarding him every time he got an answer right. with a kiss. as you sit on his lap in a short skirt that looks straight out of a porno.

until it turned into grinding on his thigh. his thick, muscular thigh was just too perfect to not grind on.

luigi pretended not to be affected by your antics, but he was getting every practice question wrong, even the ones that he knew, and his cock was raging beneath his zipper. he flexed his thigh and locked up at you, waiting for you to read the next flashcard aloud. instead you gasped at the feeling of his thigh hardening.

"what's it say? read it." he commands.

"I-" you gasp as he grips onto your waist and brings you further up his thigh, your bare thigh now brushing against his cock with every movement. your empty hand falls onto his chest and the other still holds onto his flash cards, forgotten now. "need you," you whimper, your head falling onto his shoulder.

his big hand reaches under your skirt and gropes your ass. you begin leaving a wet spot on his jeans.

"you're so desperate, hm?" he groans into your ear, nipping at your earlobe. all you can do is whine in reply. he breathes harder and you feel his chest rising faster and faster.

"what do you need? tell me, y/n"

"I need you to fuck me," you whimper into his neck. before you know it, he's lifting you up on his desk and he's on his knees in front of you. his dark eyes flicker between your pussy and your eyes.

he leaves wet kisses on the inside of your thigh, approaching your pussy with delicacy.

"you're so wet for me." he says, sucking on your inner thigh, trying to leave a mark.

you grind onto his face desperately and whine.

"please, Luigi."

at the sound of your voice, he licks his lips and plants them on yours. your hips buck and your clit grazes his big nose. he grips your thighs and throws them over his shoulder, leaving him completely enthralled in your pussy. he shamelessly indulges in your smell, a carnal need for you shining through. he gazes up at your face, completely blissed out, almost at peace.

"you taste so good," he says into you, his teeth lightly scathing against you. you look down at him and grip onto his hair, pulling on his curls. he feverishly eats you like a starved man. it almost feels like worship, him on his knees before you, worshiping your body, treating you like a goddess.

his tongue lapping at your juices creates a lewd sound that's almost music to your ears. your thighs tighten around his head and bring him impossibly closer to you.

pressure begins to build up in your stomach and he feels you pulsing on his lips. in return, he laps at you deeper than before and pinches your clit.

"cum," he demands, groaning, "cum on my face."

you follow his command, cumming hard all over him. your back arches off the desk and you grasp onto his curls harder. he laps up all of your juices, not leaving a single drop. you ride out your orgasm by grinding all over his face, loving the pressure from his big nose on your hole.

he finally comes up from between your legs and smiles down at you fucked out on his desk. his face is almost completely covered in your juices, his lips and nose glistening. he leans down and kisses you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. your hand traces the shape of his body down to his cock, and you gasp at the wet stickiness you feel.

"did you cum?" you break the kiss and whisper, palming the wet spot on his crotch.

"i-" he looks away, searching for something to say that wont make him lose all of his dignity. you grasp his face with your other hand and force him to look into your eyes.

"don't be embarrassed."

"I just love making you feel good." he says, ashamed. you pull him into you for a final kiss, claiming his lips against yours.

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

!TAGS!

@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood

[hotshotsxyz]

hope for the future (got me on my knees)

(buddie) (s8 spec) (2.4k words) car crash spec <3 title from bastille's hope for the future, which, imo, is one of the eddie songs of all time cw: blood (like. a lot)

Eddie’s not supposed to be here. He’s not—

He’s—

God, he’s not supposed to be here again. He’s not even on shift. But Buck is.

It was a favor. He’s covering for a last minute absence on C shift. So now he’s—

He’s on shift and he’s lying in the middle of the road and he’s not moving. And Eddie. Can’t. Breathe.

“Buck!” someone shouts, and Jesus it sounds like their entire world just crumbled. Eddie’s throat feels raw like—

Oh.

He’s the one screaming.

Buck’s three feet away from him, sluggishly bleeding out on the pavement. Shannon’s six feet under in a graveyard halfway across the city. Buck’s ribs are giving way beneath Eddie’s hands. Buck’s blood is soaking through his jeans. It’s staining him, his skin, his mind.

He—

“Sir!” Someone snaps. “You need to—shit, Diaz?”

No, that’s—it’s not Eddie who’s broken and unmoving on the ground. It’s not Eddie who’s going to die with or without a tube down his throat.

It’s—

It’s—

Two pairs of hands grab him, yank him away.

“No!” Eddie screams, thrashing wildly at whoever it is that thinks they can keep him from Buck.

“Diaz, stop!”

He can’t. He won’t.

“You have to let them help him.”

They won’t do enough. Only Eddie will fight for him hard enough. Only Eddie knows how to bring him back. An animalistic snarl climbs out from his chest.

“I’ve got a pulse!” a paramedic Eddie doesn’t recognize shouts. She’s a floater, probably.

A floater is holding Buck’s life in her hands. Does she even know? Does she know that the world will stop turning if he’s not in it?

Eddie’s knees hit the pavement. Distantly, he feels the sting. Mostly, though, he feels Buck’s blood. It’s on his hands and soaking through his clothes, painting him red, red, red.

Two firefighters carefully roll Buck onto a body board and lift him to the stretcher. For a split second, it’s 2019. Eddie’s watching his wife die. He’s holding Buck’s hand and trying not to stare at his mangled leg.

“Diaz! Now or never, are you coming with us?”

He doesn’t feel himself move, but between one blink and the next he finds himself in the back of an ambulance staring down at his—

His—

Buck’s eyelashes flutter and Eddie can’t do this.

“Please,” he sobs, clutching Buck’s hand. “You—you have to—”

He’s squeezing too hard. So hard he might break Buck’s hand, but he’s terrified that if he lets go, so will Buck.

The floater moves to intubate, but before she can Buck heaves a shuddering breath and opens his eyes.

Eddie thinks he might be screaming again, only this time the sound is trapped deep inside him.

“Eds… hurt?” Buck manages.

He must be. He’s dying maybe, because that’s the only explanation he can think of for the creeping numbness in his limbs.

“He’s fine, Buckley,” the floater says.

She’s wrong. She doesn’t— how could she? She doesn’t know that every piece of Eddie that’s worth anything is dying right alongside his—

“I can’t wait any longer,” she says apologetically before shoving a plastic tube down Buck’s trachea. He chokes on it, and oh, Eddie’s choking too.

The ambulance slows and Eddie’s about to bang against the wall, about to demand they keep going, when the doors are flung open revealing an entire trauma team dressed in pristine scrubs.

The floater rattles off Buck’s vitals and the injuries they know of.

As they pull Buck from the back of the ambulance, one of the doctors catches Eddie’s eye. He nods, and Eddie hopes to God that means he knows that Los Angeles will be swallowed by the sea if this man doesn’t live.

All at once, Buck is gone and Eddie’s left standing next to an ambulance that could be the last place he ever hears Buck speak.

“Diaz, you okay?” The C shift captain whose name Eddie can’t be bothered to remember right now asks.

No.

No.

No.

He doesn’t answer.

…

There’s blood on his face. Buck’s blood. Eddie doesn’t— he’s not sure how it got there, but now that he sees it, he can feel it too. It’s tacky and drying and God, there’s so much.

Gentle hands turn him away from the mirror.

“No,” Eddie says as his sluggish brain recognizes Bobby. “No, no he can’t—“

Bobby was there when—

He held Eddie. Let him weep into his shoulder. Stood steady as Eddie’s world crumbled to pieces.

“He’s in surgery,” Bobby says.

“They don’t know,” Eddie babbles.

Bobby’s face creases in concern. “Know what, Eddie?”

“He’s— he—“ He can’t force the words out.

“Eddie,” he repeats forcefully.

“I love him,” Eddie croaks.

Bobby, steadfast and solid, cracks.

One sob escapes his chest, then another, and soon they’re both sliding to grimy bathroom floor, trying not to shatter entirely.

“I can’t lose another—“ Bobby gasps.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. Bobby can’t lose another child. He can’t lose another spouse. Not now, not when he’s just begun to understand the depth of what he’s been denying himself for what feels like his entire life. Not now, not ever. Not— not, Buck.

The bathroom door bangs open and Hen steps in. Tear tracks stain her cheeks, but Eddie can’t bring himself to analyze her expression further. If Buck’s— Eddie wants to live in a world that hasn’t quite ended as long as he possibly can.

“No update,” she says quietly.

She grabs a few paper towels and wets them in the sink. She kneels in front of Eddie and brings one to his face. He flinches back.

“Eddie?” she asks.

He swallows past the lump in his throat. “What if…”

What if the blood staining his skin is the last piece of Buck he gets to keep? What if he dies on the operating table? What if he’s already dead? Eddie can’t— he won’t let anyone take the last of him away.

A harsh sob drags itself past his lips.

“Oh, Eddie,” Hen whispers, and why do people keep saying his name?

No one— he’s never heard it so many times from anyone but Buck. He doesn’t want to hear it from anyone but Buck. He shakes his head and presses his hands to his ears.

Hen says something else, but all he can hear is the whoosh of his own pulse, and it’s so unfair. Shouldn’t his heart know not to beat until he’s sure Buck’s will again?

“Eddie,” Hen says, taking his hands. “Let me, please.”

He can’t bring himself to agree, but he doesn’t fight back when she raises the paper towel to his face again. She pulls it across his skin in gentle drags, but it’s cold and Eddie can’t help but think uncharitably that Buck would’ve waited for the water to warm before he wet the towels.

When she’s done with his face, Hen guides him to the sink to wash the blood from his hands too. For a split second, Eddie wonders if Buck washed his blood away in this same sink after Eddie was shot. He wonders if Buck’s hands shook the way his are shaking now.

“That’s good Eddie, there you go,” Hen encourages him softly.

He bristles at her careful tone. Nothing she says can make any of this better or worse, not unless she can tell him with absolute certainty whether or not Buck will survive the night.

“I grabbed your duffle from the station,” she continues, and it’s only then that he notices his own bag slung over her shoulder. “Think you can get changed?”

Eddie nods mutely. Distantly, it occurs to him that this is part of what makes Hen such a good paramedic— her ability to meet someone where they are. He peels off his henley and exchanges it for the long sleeve LAFD crewneck she hands him.

He swaps his pants next, and for the first time, wearing a piece of the uniform feels wrong. He couldn’t— he wasn’t a medic today. If it had just been him and Buck out there, Buck would be dead already. He’d, what? Held his torn skin together? As if that was the wound that was going to kill him. Shannon didn’t even bleed when she died.

“Maddie and Chim are waiting for you,” Hen says, nodding toward the door. “I’m going to sit with Cap for a little while, okay?”

Again, Eddie nods. He stumbles through the door and into the arms of a woman who, for all they share, he barely knows.

He can’t bring himself to look her in the eye. She’ll know, he thinks, know that he didn’t do enough. Know that he failed one of the three people she loves most in this world.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks into her hair.

“For what?” she asks shakily.

“I should’ve— I didn’t—“

“You were there,” Maddie says. “You made sure he knows he’s not alone.”

Eddie swallows harshly.

“He knows what he’s fighting for,” Maddie continues. “Thank you.”

He wants to shake her. He should’ve done more. He’d demanded it once of a different team of doctors, and then he couldn’t even—

He was there and it didn’t matter. Buck’s still dying in a sterile operating room.

Maddie pushes him toward a chair next to Chimney in the waiting room, then sits on his other side. They talk to him, Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t hear a word.

…

“Family of Evan Buckley?”

Eddie’s on his feet before he’s even made a conscious decision to stand. Maddie follows quickly behind him, and— oh, Bobby’s in the waiting room now, too.

The doctor smiles at them, and while Eddie’s sure it’s meant to be reassuring, every second that passes without news is more excruciating than the last.

“Mr. Buckley did well in surgery,” she says.

Eddie’s entire body sags, like a marionette with its strings cut. Hen’s subtle but steadying hand on his back is the only reason he doesn’t collapse to the floor right then and there.

“He’s not out of the woods yet,” the doctor continues, “but his CT was clear and we were able to locate and repair the source of his internal bleeding.”

“He’s going to be okay?” Maddie asks, high and watery.

The doctor nods. “We’d like to keep him a few days for observation, but barring unforeseen complications, we believe he’ll make a full recovery.”

Maddie presses a hand to her mouth and nods, eyes shining.

“The effects of the anesthesia should be wearing off soon, I can take two of you to his room.”

To Eddie’s surprise, Maddie takes his hand. “We’ll—us,” she says.

Eddie looks at Maddie, then Bobby. “Are you—are you sure?”

“Go,” Bobby says. “He needs you.”

Eddie’s not sure that’s true, but he sure as hell needs Buck and he—he thinks this is probably one of those times when he’s allowed to be a little selfish.

“Through these doors,” the doctor says, leading them back with a wave of her key card.

…

He’s pale, unnaturally so. It’s like, despite the massive transfusion he received, there still isn’t enough blood pumping through his veins. Eddie wishes he could wring out his shirt and return every drop he took.

“Eddie, what happened?” Maddie asks softly.

Eddie shakes his head. “I, uh, I wasn’t supposed to be there,” he says haltingly.

Maddie takes his hand with the one that isn’t holding Buck’s and squeezes.

“I don’t think he knew I was there,” Eddie continues. “It was just… God, Maddie, it was a coincidence.”

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath.

“It came out of nowhere. They were responding to a fender bender, wouldn’t have even been a call except one of the drivers was stuck in their car, I think. He was helping someone when it—there was a car. And then he was just—I couldn’t—he—”

Maddie squeezes his hand again. “You know, I—” she hesitates, then nods like she’s made a decision. “I’ve never seen him happy the way he is with you.”

Against Eddie’s will, a pained noise escapes his throat. “I don’t know why,” he admits. He looks down at his feet.

“Sure,” Maddie says, blowing out an amused huff.

“He’s so good. He walks into a room and everything gets brighter. He’s the sun,” Eddie says helplessly.

Maddie’s smile turns impossibly fond. “You love him,” she says. It’s not a question.

A smile of his own spreads unbidden on his lips. “How could I not?”

There’s a sharp intake of breath.

Eddie whips his head around and sees Buck, eyes open, lips parted.

“Eddie,” he breathes.

He should be panicking, maybe. Throat closing, heart racing, but—the singular feeling in his chest is relief.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie says, incapable of and unwilling to keep the warmth from his voice.

“You—” Buck blinks twice, slow, like he’s trying to keep himself awake.

Eddie lays a hand on his ankle and squeezes. “Rest,” he says. “I’ll stay.”

“Stay… s’nice,” Buck slurs as he slips back into sleep.

“For what it’s worth,” Maddie says after a long moment, “pretty sure he loves you, too.”

Eddie watches the slow rise and fall of Buck’s chest. “Yeah,” he says, biting down on a grin that’s far too wide for the ICU, “I think he might.”

“Could take a second for him to work that out for himself,” Maddie says.

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle. “Oh, I know,” he says. “Gives me time to pick out a ring,” he jokes. Kind of.

Maddie laughs and shakes her head. “Is this your way of asking for my permission to propose?”

“Well I’m not going to ask your parents,” Eddie replies, wrinkling his nose.

Maddie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Could you imagine if I said no after all of this?”

“I’d ask him anyway,” Eddie admits.

“Good answer,” Maddie says.

Eddie laughs. “Oh, so that was a test?”

“No,” Maddie replies, shaking her head. “But he deserves someone that chooses him no matter what.”

“I do,” Eddie says with conviction. “I will.”

“Then yes,” Maddie says. “Just—don’t ask him in the hospital.”

[asterias-record-shop]

not-so-secret secret (t.n. & m.r.)

Theo has always had a crush on you, but with you being his best friend's step-sister, he never did anything… but then he realized how close Mattheo was to you. Got damn, this drabble is 2.3K words.

“You can’t date my bloody sister,” Mattheo snapped, shaking his head before throwing his head back to chug down a shot of firewhisky. “You’re fucking insane.”

Theo shook his head along with Mattheo, sighing. “Y-You know that I wouldn’t-“

“With the way you look at her, yeah you would,” Mattheo shook his head as his eyes trailed your form at the Slytherin party, a slight bite of his lip making Theo look at you too. “Angel! Come over here.”

You paused your actions of dancing with your friends, grabbing your drink to walk over to the two friends. Theo loved to watch you saunter over, your hips swaying as you stood next to Mattheo who wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you flush against his side.

“Go get me another drink, yeah?” Mattheo looked up at you as you hummed softly, giving him yours.

“I’m not going to finish it, I didn’t like it,” you explained as he took it, seemingly not bothered that your step-brother had his arm wrapped around you.

Theo didn’t have siblings, so that must have been normal, right?

“Thank you, angel,” he hummed as he took your drink, taking a sip before jerking his head at Theo. “Get Theo a drink then, yeah? He needs one.”

You hummed again, nodding as you smiled at Theo. “What do you want?”

“Whatever,” Theo wasn’t going to be picky when you were going to get him a drink. “I’ll take whatever you get for me.”

You nodded, letting your fingers twirl in his hair. “Okay.”

It was a simple reaction for him to lean into your touch making you giggle, his head following your touch before you walked away, making Mattheo laugh. “Goodness… you’re fucking whipped.”

Quickly, Theo looked over, shaking his head. “N-No, I’m not-”

“Yes the fuck you are,” Mattheo’s voice has a dangerous bite to it as he glared at Theo. “You better stay the fuck away from her.”

This was confusing to Theodore. He watched as you walked over, your green dress slipping further up your thighs as you weaved through people, but he watched as you finally stood in front of him and gave him the drink. “Here! I got you your favorite.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Theo said as you sat on the couch between the two of them, lifting up your legs to place your thighs on Mattheo’s. Theo watched as you did so, swallowing as you looked at him before taking a sip through the tiny straw. “Mmm, it’s good.”

“Is it?” You sat up straighter, leaning towards him. “Can I try it?”

“Yeah, of course,” he offered the cup to you in his hand, watching as you took the straw and slowly took a sip. “Good?”

You hummed, smiling as you took out the straw with your teeth before licking the bottom to get the drops that began to fall. “Mmm, so good,” you hummed before giving him the straw, putting it between his teeth as he opened his mouth. “Do you mind if we share?”

“Of course not.”

Mattheo’s hand moved to your thigh, squeezing in almost a warning-like way. It did not concern you, though, not when tonight was your night to tempt him – to tease him.

“Angel,” Mattheo warned, but it didn’t seem like Theo heard as he offered his drink to you and watched as you took a large sip, never breaking eye contact. “Stop it.”

You did not listen, offering it back to Theo and purposely letting some of the liquor fall down your lips before swiping at it with your thumb and licking it off. Theo’s eyes continued to follow you, never looking away as you tilted your head slightly.

By Merlin’s name, Theo was fine.

“Are you single, Theo?”

Your question made him swallow, inhaling slightly, before nodding. “Yes.”

“I am too,” you smiled, and your words made Mattheo’s grip tighten on your thigh as you bit your lip slightly at the feeling.

“I know.”

You were about to respond before Mattheo dragged you out, Theo swallowing as you both disappeared. At first, he waited a few minutes, he waited for you both to come back, but you didn’t.

So he went out to look for you both.

At first, it took him a minute to find out where you both were, but a few harsh breaths made his stomach twist.

“No! No, I w-won’t do it again, I promise!” A voice sobbed, stuttering before gags fell from your mouth.

“Yes you will,” another harsh voice bit back, the gags getting louder as Theo turned a corner, the sight of you pressed against one of the castle pillars with Mattheo’s fingers shoved down your throat certainly a sight to see.

It took Theo a second to register the fact that Mattheo had his slacks down to his knees as he fucked into you from behind, white pearlescent liquid running down your inner thighs as he breathed heavily.

“You love being a teasing little slut… mmm, your pussy is always so open whenever I don’t fuck you because you’re such a desperate little whore,” Mattheo growled back in response, his other hand pushing forward to slap against your clit. A yelp fell from your lips as Mattheo’s hips got faster, his harsh breaths turning into loud, guttural moans as his fingers twisted your sensitive bud. “You’re such a fucking whore… desperate for your step-brother’s cock, aren’t you a whore angel? Hm?”

His fingers pushed farther down your throat as you gagged, tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded mindlessly.

This sight shouldn’t have been a turn on, but it was. Cum covering your inner thighs as he fucked into you, globs of arousal continuing to fall down your thighs and make a messy puddle on the floor. How long had he been fucking you? How many times have you cum?

The mere thought made Theo rock hard, and he couldn’t help himself, pushing his hands down to start undoing his pants and pumping himself, groaning as he tilted back his head. It was so perverted what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop himself – besides, there was no way Mattheo would ever let him have you.

He was always so submissive with you, he couldn’t help it, but now he knew your not-so-secret secret, and now he knew what to do.

So, as soon as he finished jacking himself off – he knew exactly what to do.

The next day, he saw Mattheo – who was grinning like he knew Theo saw you both fucking last night. Like he knew Theo would follow you both out.

“Mattheo,” Theo smiled as he stood in front of his best friend, tilting his head. “You’re happy today.”

“Mmm, I had a good night,” Mattheo was sick and Theo knew it, but it was as though that sickness was slowly spreading to Theo as he leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m pretty sure I just got a girl pregnant, and I think you know exactly who I’m talking about. You’re not exactly the most quiet person when you jack off.”

Theo just hummed in response, but leaned closer to Mattheo’s ear. “I know I’m not. And I’m going to be just as loud when I tell every press outlet that Voldemort’s son is a sick bastard who fucks his pretty little step-sister unless you let me fuck her too.”

Mattheo pulled away, a smirk on his face as he tilted his head. “Took you long enough.”

“Matty, what’s going on?” You were shocked when Mattheo took his fingers out of you, and instead of putting his cock in you to replace his digits, he stepped back. “Matty!”

“Hush angel,” he whispers, smiling as the door slowly begins to open. It was a normal reaction for you to try and cover yourself before Mattheo leaned down quickly, grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them to the mattress. “What are you doing, huh?”

“M-Mattheo, who is it-”

“Hey pretty girl,” Theo’s voice rang out, a soft moan escaping your mouth when you saw him pumping his cock.

The sight of Theo walking toward you, pumping himself as Mattheo went around your body, keeping your hands pinned down as he slowly hovered above your face. “You remember how you felt watched last night, angel? Well, there’s our audience…”

Theo’s eyes never looked away from your soaked cunt, your cum running down your beautiful, wet folds before he kneeled between your legs and held your plush thighs to his hips. “Mhm… and now it’s time to be more involved, darling…”

“W-Wait-!” You groaned as he pushed into you, your words leaving your mind as your voice disappeared as Theo started to rut his hips. Your mind went blank as you desperately tried to rut your hips into his in response, Mattheo stroking his tip all along your face with a smirk.

“You really are a whore… so desperate for any cock to fuck into you and fill your womb up with cum.”

You were about to bite back with a more harsh response, but Mattheo only took that as an entrance into your mouth, slamming his hips forward into your mouth making you choke. Your throat was still sore from last night, a whine falling from your lips before you started to gag with every thrust.

The feeling of your cunt was absolute heaven to Theo, and this gave him the chance to fully give into his more harsh code. Normally, he would have been more gentle, but he couldn’t. Mattheo’s sickness has spread to him, and now, he would never be able to go back.

“Fucking bloody hell,” Theodore moaned out, throwing his head back as he sets into a steady pace fucking into you, loud groans falling from his lips with every thrust. “She’s so fucking wet.”

“Mmm, just wait until you get her mouth,” Mattheo spoke smugly, his cock dragging and fucking down your throat roughly, as though he did not care if he would hurt you. Truthfully, he did not care if he would hurt you and you both knew that, but sometimes he felt nice. “Fuck angel, Theo knows our secret now… he can fuck you whenever he pleases and he won’t tell anyone…”

You whined loudly around his cock, hips bucking unconsciously as you tried to squeeze your thighs together, Theodore’s hands quickly going down to press your thighs to the bed. “Uh uh, my darling,” he groaned, his thrusts getting rougher as he grunted. “You’re not fucking moving away from me… merlin, you have a better cunt than I could have ever imagine, holy shit…” he drawled on in a loud moan, his hips stuttering as Mattheo cackled.

“Are you close already? You’re truly acting like a fucking virgin, come on angel, make him cum.”

You always listened to Mattheo, beginning to rock your hips into Theo’s who moaned loudly as you did so, leaning forward and fucking into you at a new position. The feeling made you moan and gag around Mattheo’s cock, the feeling of two cocks inside of you making you go insane as your stomach began to twist. It was your third orgasm, the feeling making you whine as the pit of your stomach began to feel like it was almost burning, a pulsing heat from your clit as Theo’s thumb swiped repeatedly over the sensitive bud. You gagged as you self-consciously needed to beg to cum, strangled words escaping making Mattheo groan.

“She’s about to cum. You have to listen to her beg.”

He pulled his cock out of your mouth making you cough repeatedly, but Theo’s hips only got faster, a broken wail coming from your mouth. “W-Wait! Th-Theo, it’s too much, t-too much!”

Mattheo continued to pump his cock above your face, ready to spurt cum all over you. “Beg to cum, angel, or I’ll make him pull out of you so quick you won’t even get to force yourself.”

The thought made you wail, a soft sob coming from your mouth as you eagerly nodded your head. “Pl-Please, Theo! Please, I want to cum, I want to cum!”

Theo only let out a guttural groan, barely able to speak as his thrusts got faster, hitting that spot inside of you that made your mind blur and your stomach hit that peak as your vision went black.

“Fucking cum. Cum, you stupid fucking slut,” he was finally giving into that need to be cruel, that sickness that Mattheo harnessed in the most possessive way – the need to truly use you like a fuck toy.

As Theo moaned loudly, his hips still not pausing in their rough thrusts while he came inside of you, fucking his cum deeper inside of you as you came with a loud, broken scream, Mattheo laughed as he pumped himself, spurting perfect ropes of cum all along your lips and chin, even spurting some into your mouth and on your neck.

The three of you slowly rode out your highs, Theo unable to stop the movements of his hips as Mattheo let go of your hands and let his now slightly softened cock settle on your chin with his balls in your mouth. It was his way of ordering you to continue to pump him, which you did as you suckled carefully against his ball sac.

“Fuck,” Theo whispered breathlessly, inhaling as his thrusts began to feel more composed, a whine falling from your lips. “She looks so hot.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, stroking your hair as you tilted your head to the side to keep eye contact with him. “She can suck you off, too. As soon as you stop hogging her cunt.”

This made Theo laugh as your eyes rolled back. Maybe it was good to have an audience, after all.

I do not ever give consent to my work being published on other platforms or being translated at any point, even if it is a request. If my work is on any other platform, it’s without my permission. Your media consumption is not my responsiblity.

© asterias-record-shop

[freedomfireflies]

Teenage Dirtbag*

Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.

Word Count: 5.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!

“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”

“27.”

“Harry, come on.”

“What?”

“I need an answer.”

“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”

Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”

“What?”

“We’re supposed to be studying.”

“We are.”

“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"

“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?” 

“Mm.”

“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”

“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”

“27.”

“Harry.”

He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”

He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”

“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”

“Oh, did I? Oops.”

“You’re mean.”

“Yeah. But you like me.”

“Not right now.”

“Yes now. Always.”

You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”

“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”

“Harry—”

“What, angel?”

You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”

“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”

“We agreed to study.”

“We are.”

“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”

“So?”

“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”

“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.

You grab the cards. “Oops.”

Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat. 

“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”

“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”

“Because I have you.”

“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”

“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”

You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”

“Mm…for now.”

“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”

Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”

“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”

You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”

“What? They’re just words, baby.”

“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”

He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”

You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”

“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”

“Harry…”

“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”

You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”

“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”

You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.

You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.

His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.” 

Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”

He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it. 

The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.

However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.

Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.

“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”

“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.

“I know. But today is not that day.”

Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.

“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.

He winks.

With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.

And every trace of Harry has gone.

“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”

“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”

“Deal.”

You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.

Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present. 

You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.

Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.

But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.

You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.

He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.

And that’s when he finds you.

Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.

He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.

“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”

A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.

“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”

Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.

Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.

And the same earrings you’re wearing now.

But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”

You smirk. “You guess?”

“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”

To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.

“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”

You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”

“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”

“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.

He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.

He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before. 

Compared to them, you’re just…you.

Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.

You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.

“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”

You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.

“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”

“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”

“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”

You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”

You lean back. “You saw?”

“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”

“H…”

“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”

He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” 

You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret. 

And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.

And you’ll be devastated.

Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.

He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.

Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.

“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”

“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”

Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”

He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”

“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”

“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”

“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress. 

You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you. 

You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”

Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”

“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”

The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.

“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.

You swallow. “…yes.”

“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”

You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”

“Mhm. Not Zack.”

“No. No, not Zack.”

He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”

Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…

You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.

He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.

He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.

“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”

“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”

“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”

And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.

You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.

And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.

His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still. 

You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.

“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”

You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”

“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”

And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside. 

You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.

But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.

“What…what did I do?” you pant.

He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”

He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”

“I…I know.”

“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”

You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”

“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”

“Oh…”

His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”

Your lips part. “You…oh.”

“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”

“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”

It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”

Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.

And that’s your favorite part.

“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”

You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants. 

He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”

You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.

You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking. 

“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”

You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”

You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body. 

You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”

Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.

The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.

And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.

But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again. 

And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.

“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”

“Mm…mhm.”

“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”

With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.

“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”

You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.

“Okay. Keep going.”

You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them. 

“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”

“Ye—yeah.”

“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”

Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it. 

And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again. 

The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.

Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.

“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”

You only mewl. Loud and incoherent. 

He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.

His bandana.

It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.

“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”

Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”

“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”

Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.

“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”

You nod.

“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”

Your lashes flutter.

“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”

Another nod, slower.

“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”

Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.

The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth. 

Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric. 

He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more. 

And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.

“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”

You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum. 

“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”

Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.

“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”

You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.

So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.

Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling. 

He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.

He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”

He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.

You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything. 

And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either. 

“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.

You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”

“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”

“Mhm. Very.”

“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”

“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”

His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”

“Mm…unlikely.”

“But maybe.”

“Maybe not.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Might hurt.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”

“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”

“Tell her you’re staying.”

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”

“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”

The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”

His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”

He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.

Until the door opens.

And Zack walks in.

God I love fratrry 😭💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

[adultbabystories]

"I’m gonna give my boy the Christmas morning he deserves!” your daddy told himself before the holidays.

He planned every minute of it. It’s been months since he began your forced regression, or as he called it, regressive therapy. Daddy worked hard to get you comfortable with your new baby clothes, baby soothers, toys, and most importantly, your diapers.

Last year, when you guys first started dating, before the regressive therapy began, he wished for a baby boy. You wanted to please him and to be polite, you wished for him a baby boy as well. How could you know that a year later, his baby boy was going to be you?

Almost a year had passed and your journey had been bumpy. From willing, to resisting, to obeying, then crying, and finally accepting, you took your place as the baby of the house, seeing him as a dominant figure, but not as a fatherly one. You knew it was his dream, not only breaking you physically but also mentally. He wanted you to be completely dependent on him. Not only for your physical needs but also for your emotional needs.

Daddy got the house all decorative with the Christmas spirit. A tree, decorations, even stockings! On Christmas Eve, you had dinner, just the two of you.  Your bib got all the mess away from your festive baby clothes. You had a good time, but still, you wanted a grown-up holiday.

He got you to your nursery, changed your diaper into a thick night one, and dressed you in a warm blue onesie. He guided your diapered butt into your crib and laid you down, putting a pacifier in your mouth.

“I promise you the best Christmas morning little fella, Daddy promises,” he said, kissing your cheek, and got the crib’s rails up.

With the mobile above you playing, you fell asleep, sucking your paci.

“OH OH OH!” someone was shouting, waking you up.

“OH OH OH! I’VE HEARD THERE’S A BOY WHO HAS BEEN GOOD THIS YEAR” the shouting continued. 

The crib rails were down. If they were down, you knew Daddy had done it, and it was okay for you to get out.

You hopped down from the crib and walked to the living room. You felt like you wet your diaper at night. It was a rare thing, but it happened from time to time. You turned to the living room, Christmas music was playing in the background and a new giant tree was standing in the middle of the living room. It was so festive and beautiful. Daddy was standing beside it. He was a heavy guy. He lifts weights but also loves to lift plates. His belly went through a pants braces. He wore red fleece pants and a Christmas hat. Covering his face was a fake wight beard. He looked like a fun mature Santa!

“Do you remember what you told me on our first Christmas?” he asked.

“No” you answered, secretly knowing what he meant.

“I remember, that you told me, that as a little kid, you always wanted a big, festive Christmas, with a giant tree and presents underneath it. You told me, that you always wanted to sit on Stanta’s lap and ask for a new toy. You wished for the Christmas of your dreams, and now my little guy, you can have it”, Daddy said, with a hopeful spark in his eyes, “Do you like it?”

You stood there and felt so emotional. This man, your new Daddy, worked so hard to make your dreams come true. Your body had weakened, and you wet your diaper without realizing it. Not only your body had weakened, but your emotional and mental state as well.

For the first time ever, you took your thumb, and put it in your mouth, starting to suck on it. It felt right, it felt good, it felt like home, it felt like something you wanted to do.

Daddy looked at you. At your blue fleece onesie, at your puffy wet diaper, and your fist stuck into your mouth. He gave you your dream, and you finally gave him his.

“Marry Christmas, my boy,” he said, “now come and sit on Santa’s lap”.

-------------------------------------- Teddy Boi is having one magical Christmas! Check him out on Twitter (@)Teddyboi99.

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day seventeen.

Sub Lando (2.9k words)

summary: People would never take Lando as someone who surrenders control during sex, but they definitely don't know how good he can be for you when he does.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, established relationship, sub!lando, oral (male receiving), thigh riding, unprotected sex, overstimulation, language. (pls let me know if there is anything else I should add!).

Lando liked being the one having some type of ‘control’ during sex. Not that he took over your entire body, but he was definitely in charge. This is why it took him by surprise when he realised how much he loved surrendering to you.

It happened gradually, but the first time you called him a ‘good boy’ something lit up inside of him.

"Do you like it when I call you a good boy?" You asked, still in a low and sexy voice but genuinely curious as your hips slowed down a bit.

He just nodded, not being able to get his words out, but you shot him a look that he knew what it meant. "Yes," he stammered. So from that moment on, you always tried new things with him, of course making sure he was totally okay with it. 

The stress of this season is really what encouraged him to let go a little, letting you take the moment and make of it whatever you wanted. That was the situation he found himself in at the moment.

In the middle of a heated kiss, your hands started travelling all the way down to his pants. His breath itched, so you pulled away for a second. “Is this okay?”

"Yes," he replied right away, making him seem a little desperate.

You left a trail of wet kisses leading to his neck, sucking his sweet spot and making him moan. "What do you say?" You asked. He didn’t say anything at first, but you repeated the question in a more demanding tone.

"Please," he finally replied in a shaky breath. Your hand continued to go down, your teeth now softly biting his thick neck. He closed his eyes for just a second, but the shuffling of the bed as you went under the covers to play with the hem of his sweatpants made him open them again, looking down as you disappeared. 

You started massaging him over the layers before sliding your hand under his briefs, and at that point he didn’t care about the noises he was making or how desperate and needy they sounded. "You're so pretty when you make those little noises, baby," you whispered.

He swallowed hard as he started to sweat everywhere, hands falling to his sides to fist the sheets. He needed you to do something, and the fact that you were taking your sweet time was killing him, but not so deep down, he loved it.

Finally, you instructed him to lift his hips for you, getting rid of his bottom clothes and making his needy cock stand before you. You smiled at how quick you got him to that as you kicked the covers so he could see what you were doing to him.

You decided to tease him a bit longer, so you admired his cock that was just a few centimetres away from your face, rubbing your thumb over his tip as you watched his eyes widen. He breathed a sigh at the contact, the pressure in his stomach releasing just the smallest bit at the relief. You didn’t break eye contact once; god, you loved to see the effect you had on him.

After just a moment, your hand gripped at his base; your cold hands against his hot skin caused a hiss to leave his mouth as you curled your small fingers around his thickness. You laid your cheek on his thigh, watching each pass of your own hand over his cock.

“Do you want me to take you?” You asked him, expecting an obvious answer from him, but you had to repeat the question when you didn’t hear a single word fall from his mouth. “Mhm, do you?”

“Yes, please,” he replied in a desperate tone, his hips almost betraying him, but he knew better than to get ahead of himself.

A smirk appeared on your face. You positioned yourself better between his legs, finding a more comfortable position as your mouth slowly approached his cock, the anticipation making him take in a breath and his grip on the sheets tighten. 

“Such a pretty cock, aching just for me,” you mused. He let out a shaky whimper. “Why don’t you take my hair instead? We don’t want it to get in the way, do we?”

He pathetically nodded, his hand immediately flying to your hair and making a ponytail with his fist. “Like this?” He asked, as if it were the very first time you were giving him head.

“Yes, baby, just like that.”

You took his base and your fingers barely connected around his cock, a sight that made him moan on its own. He was looking down at you with his eyes begging for more, his breath staining when he felt the spit you had collected in your mouth go down his thickness. You pressed your soft lips against his head, opening your mouth a little wider when you started to slide down his prick. 

A choked moan left his throat, every part of his body feeling heavy as his grip on your hair loosened a little. You took him out of your mouth to look up at him. “You have to keep my hair in place, remember?” He nodded his head, his mouth slightly open. “Good boy.”

You went back and took him again, hollowing your cheeks around him as your head bobbed painfully slowly. You repeated the motions a few more times but never fully pulled back, and he could feel your warm tongue at different spots and his precum glossing over your lips.

The entire time he was trying his best to stay in place; he knew he had to, but it seemed nearly impossible with how good you were making him feel. He let out a soft moan as your head continued to pump his base to meet with your lips, and as your pace began to quicken, the more desperate he was getting for a release.

It was taking everything in him not to beg you for more, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and calm his urges. Any other time, and if the roles were reversed, a tighter grip on your hair or a subtle push would have done it. He let out a long breath; he needed more, but he knew he had to be patient, but a particularly good suck made him involuntarily buck his hips up a bit. His eyes shot open as your hand lightly smacked the side of his thigh, warning him.

“Sorry, sorry, I- I’m sorry.”

You decided to let it pass and continued to take him, and he was repeating in his mind he had to be more careful, but it was hard with the sight of his cock disappearing between your lips and your spit coating in his cock.

He was thankful when you started to go faster and deeper; you were sucking and licking repeatedly, your tongue tracing the vein along his cock as the weight laid heavy in your mouth. The pressure in his stomach was tightening with each pass, letting both of you know he was close. 

He almost begged you to keep going, but the words ‘don’t stop’ got stuck in his throat, and a loud whimper replaced them. You had done that before, taking away the pleasure just moments before his release, but you weren’t planning on doing that today, not when he was being so good for you.

One of his hands fell over his thigh, his nails digging his skin every time he felt his tip brush the back of your throat. The feeling of your spit drooling down onto his balls was what pushed him over the edge, and there was nothing he could do about it but cum.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming," he moaned, and your thumb circling his thigh gave him the permission he was waiting for. It only took a couple more passes of your soft lips before he was shooting his release down your throat, his eyes screwing shut as his mouth repeated your name like a prayer.

You worked him through his orgasm, licking and swallowing everything he was giving you. Once you took all of it, you pulled back, the smallest lick of your pink tongue rolling over his head to collect the last drop of cum that was still there, making him squirm. Another chocked moan escaped his mouth when he saw a thin line of spit and cum that was connecting his cock and your lips before breaking and falling over your chin.

Your gaze was glassy, lips swollen, and hair a bit of a mess when you silently asked him to release it, but he swore that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.

“Do you feel better, baby?” Your voice was as soft and innocent as ever, only adding to the filthy scene.

He swallowed hard before answering “yes.” 

You went on your knees as your hands rested on his thighs, softly squeezing them as you tried to read him. He already looked spent, but now it was your turn.

“Do you think you can take me?” You asked him as you quickly got rid of your clothes.

He didn’t even have to consider it, and even though he was still recovering from his orgasm, he nodded. He watched you climb on his lap, your dripping centre placed on his right thigh as you caught his lips in a deep kiss. He moaned at the taste on himself on your tongue, hands instinctively falling on your waist. 

You knew he was still sensitive, so why not give him a little more time to recover while you used other parts of him to get off? You started rolling your hips softly, your pussy getting in contact with his thigh.

His entire body tensed when he realised what you were doing, his jaw dropping as he threw his head back against the headboard, whiny pants coming out of his mouth while your lips were still hovering over his, unable to keep kissing him. Anyone would think he was getting some kind of pleasure at your actions, and if he was being completely honest, he was.

Your juices were starting to coat his thigh as he looked down at how your pussy was dragging along the surface. “Don’t want me to kiss you, pretty boy?” You teased him, making him look back at you and you could see him trying to speak, but no words came out of his mouth.

He got it together and continued kissing you, enjoying the way the bed was creaking at your movements as they got quicker. You weren’t actually planning on finishing on his thigh; you needed him inside you, and by the looks of his cock, that’s also what he needed, but you couldn't deny how much it turned you on to see him lose his mind at you using him to pleasure yourself.

You decided to keep it going for a little longer, pressing yourself down harder as he tensed it every once in a while. A moan escaped your lips, making him stammer a soft ‘fuck’ into your mouth. 

“Want me to ride you now? Do you wanna be inside of me?” You asked, pulling back as your fingers found the hem of his shirt to take it off, lifting your hips to hover over his cock once you threw it somewhere in the room.

“Yes, please,” he whimpered, and the loud moan that ringed in your ears when you grabbed his base to guide it to your entrance let you know he wouldn’t last long.

You lowered yourself, nails digging on his shoulders when you took him completely. “Be a good boy and play with my clit.” You whispered, eyes locked with his.

Not even a second later, one of his hands left your waist and made its way to your clit, his fingers rubbing hard circles as you started to bounce on him.

It was impresive, really. He never in a million years thought anyone would have him in the palm of their hands the way that you do, and yet there he was, following every instruction that left your lips, but he enjoyed every second of it. Your moans joined his when you found the perfect angle, his cock moving inside you just the way you needed it to.

You were wrapped around him just right, keeping him warm and wet as you picked up the pace. He could feel his tip kissing your cervix every time you came back down and he couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting up, not once, but twice.

“I need you to be still for me. Can you do that, baby?” He swallowed hard, nodding as you kept going. His head fell back again, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “You are being such a good boy. Look at how your pretty cock disappears inside me.”

He opened his eyes and looked down; his hand was covering part of the view, but he could still see it. You loved the look on his face more than anything else, eyebrows coming together any time you squeezed him.

It was hypnotic seeing you bounce on his cock as it disappeared and reappeared in your cunt. His eyes travelled up your body, his lower lip getting trapped between his fingers when he got to your boobs.

“Do you like what you see?” 

It took him a few seconds to answer, but he then looked at you and released his lip to reply. “Yes.”

“Take one.” And he did, as soon as you asked him. His hand fell on his favourite one, squeezing it slightly before playing with your nipple. 

He was proud when you moaned loudly and your grip on his shoulders tightened, your head falling back for just a moment, but you liked to keep your composure in these situations. You looked back at him, catching his lips in a kiss. 

He was a mess under you, sweat covering his body as his throat vibrated every time he was deep inside you, and as your movements began to quicken, he felt that familiar feeling starting to form.

Lando pulled back from your kiss, a loud moan leaving his lips. “Ah, fuck. I´m gonna cum,” the hand that was on your clit stummbled for a moment, his voice shaky and his whimpers getting more consistent.

“Hold it a bit longer, yeah?” You purred, ignoring his whines.

“Mhm, I can’t,” he cried, his legs trembling and his lower abdomen spasming.

“Yes, you can. I promise you can,” you reassured him, your hips moving more freverishly as you chased your own high. He was fighting back his orgasm for dear life, praying he could hold it long enough for you, but you just felt so good.

You knew he wouldn’t be able to do it; you could practically feel his cock twitching inside you, and the way your pussy would naturally clench around him, you knew would just bring him closer.

But he still tried — for at least a minute, that was. You felt his cock throb as he moaned, tossing his head back and a whimper escaping the back of his throat as he got to his second release.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he pleaded with teary eyes as his hips pushed up a little, but you didn’t mind anymore, you just let him get through his orgasm. 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” you said, rubbing one of his cheeks softly, but your movements didn’t slow down. Instead, you picked up your pace even more, the sticky liquid inside you only encouraging you to get your own orgasm.

You were well aware it was too much for him; he was at his second orgasm already, but you were proud of him for taking it like a champ. As you gripped his shoulders tighter for stability, your hips moved back and forth at an angle, and you were insanely grateful that he continued rubbing your clit through it all. 

You could feel it coming, so you started pressing down harder near your release to help his cock hit your g-spot every time as louder moans escaped your lips. “I’m almost there, baby,” you groaned, your clenching walls making him whine at how sensitive he was.

Then, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you came on Lando’s veiny cock. Walls fluttered and your back arched, making your head fall on the crook of his neck, which triggered a third orgasm out of him, even more cum painting your velvet insides as he cried, eyes shut the louder his moans got.

Once your orgasm was finished, you fell forward completely on his body as you lifted your hips to slip his cock out of your pussy, he was so sensitive and overwhelmed, and your contractions that were happening post-orgasm brought him slight pain. 

Your heavy breathing was matching his, your hand caressing his hair as you whispered sweet nothings to his ear.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you. You did so good for me, so so good,” you whispered as you pulled back to look at him, your lips kissing the tears that managed to escape from his eyes. 

He opened his eyes slowly, offering you a sweet smile to let you know he was okay. 

Once you both recovered, you got up and ran you both a warm bath to share before getting into some clean sheets and going to sleep after a long day.

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[inkbybambi]

bodyguard!simon riley who takes a bullet for you —

words: 2.9k rating: e warnings: nightmares, guns/shooting, gunshot wound, hospitals, smut, creampie, cunnilingus, mentions of threats against reader, threat against reader, lowercase writing — please let me know if i missed any! notes: 18+ content, minors dni. warnings have been provided.

He's been assigned to you for two-ish years now. You weren't thrilled at first, and neither was he — but he didn't make it as obvious as you did.

"I don't need a babysitter," you had damn-near hissed when he was introduced.

"I wasn't hired to be one," he counters coolly, which only serves to irritate you further.

Actively ignoring his presence — as much as you could when your company moved him into your apartment — even though you begrudgingly made room in the counters and fridge for his things, even going as far as investing into a better kettle so he could make his tea and clearing out an entire cabinet for all his tea, sugar, and steeper.

He trails you quietly as he was hired to; keeping close enough to always have you in his sights but far enough away that people wouldn't be able to clock his association to you — or so he thought.

Six months into his contract with you — an unknown amount of time left, as Price never answered and soon he stopped asking — he wakes in the middle of the night from a scream he never thought would come from you.

He rushes to your bedroom, gun in hand with his finger resting on the side — not the trigger. The front door is locked as he had left it, windows unbroken. He almost thinks he might've associated it with one of his own nightmares, until he sees you.

Curled in on yourself, face tucked into your knees, fingers threaded at the nape of your neck as you struggle to breathe properly, hiccups and sobs breaking between your stuttered breaths.

He knocks gently on your door, not wanting to startle you. You jump a little, regardless, but lift your head to look at him.

"'m sorry," you mumble, voice rough, "I didn't mean to wake you."

And you hadn't. You thought you were done with these awful nightmares, the ones gnawing at the edges of your mind during the day.

"'S'alright," he replies, tucking the gun into the waistband of his sleep shorts, walking carefully towards your bed. "You okay?"

The look he receives damn near breaks his heart.

He learns, that night, that an attempt had been made on your life before. More than once.

They never got close enough to do any harm, you say, but then swallow thickly and clutch your bicep where Simon sees a scar that he never took notice of previously. They didn't get close enough to do anything worse, you amend, chancing a look at him.

"I had security then, too," you explain, wiping your tears with your hand, playing with the blanket. "It didn't change anything."

Something shifts after that.

He starts cooking for you — with you, when there's time — and you bring him a cup of tea each morning. The bookshelf in the living room, previously only half-filled, collects Simon's books. You give him the login to all your streaming services, and ignore the pointed look he gives you when he sees some trashy reality tv show in your continue to watch queue.

He doesn't complain much when he stands behind you during an episode, arms crossed, asking a question here and there. You sigh, exasperated at having to explain everything, telling him to sit down as you start the series from the beginning.

Nine months into his contract, your nightmares become more frequent, and worse. You don't understand why. You were getting better, you cry in Simon's arms after a particularly rough night.

"Sometimes these things happen," he tells you softly, gently petting your hair, tucking you under his chin.

"Make them stop, please," you beg, even though you know he can't. he wishes he could.

He starts sleeping in your bed.

He's so warm, your cheek pressed into his chest, feeling more secure than you have in months when the weight of his thick, tattooed arm slings around your waist. He presses a kiss to your forehead at night, and you burrow into his side.

He starts taking the balaclava off at night.

A morning where you blessedly don't have to be up early, grey clouds hang in the sky, the promise of a storm later.

"G'mornin'," he says, voice rough with sleep, feeling him flex and stretch beneath you, groaning as his body relaxes. A flash of heat snaps through you.

"Morning," you reply, only half-awake, tilting your head up to drag your lips across his jaw, prickling with stubble.

He cradles the back of your head, fingers thick and comforting, tilting you back until his mouth slants over yours. He holds you so carefully, like glass, as his tongue slips into your mouth, hot and heavy.

The sheets rustle as he moves to lay over you, free arm resting by your head as your legs hook on his hips, trying to draw him closer to you.

He nips at your bottom lip as he rolls his hips, the heat of his cock through his boxers frazzling your brain. You mewl, his tongue back in your mouth, moving his hand to grip your waist and drag you up against him, moaning low in his throat when he feels the wetness seeping through your panties.

"Fuck," you breathe out as his mouth moves over your cheek, down your jaw, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"Say please," he rumbles.

"Simon, please," you whine, fingers curling at the base of his skull and scratching, and he snarls against your skin, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck as he tears your panties off, pushing his boxers down enough to free his cock.

You're so wet for him, slick coating your thighs as he drags his cock through your folds.

He usually takes his time — using his fingers and tongue to open them up first, wanting to feel the wet heat of their cunt and the spurt of their release to know they're relaxed and ready for him. He eats pussy like he'll die if he doesn't, will happily spend hours between your legs if you let him.

But with you? He feels feral with need.

"It's big, sweet thing," he rasps into your skin, lips hovering over that sensitive spot on your neck that he sunk his teeth into earlier, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. He's not trying to brag, it's just a fact.

You claw at him, the sting of open scratches burning his skin so pleasantly.

"It's okay, don't care," you pant, gripping him hard enough to leave deep crescent marks in his skin, angling your hips up to draw him into your cunt yourself.

He grips your hips with both hands, slowly pushing his thick length into you, nails digging even deeper the more he pushes in.

"Feels so fucking good," he says, tongue laving over your throat to collect the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin. "Could fuck you forever," he groans, your breath hitching.

You make a strangled noise low in your throat. It's been awhile since you've fucked anyone, and you've never fucked anyone as big as him before.

The stretch feels so good, though. Your cunt clenches around him as he sinks in deeper, mind glazing over as you focus only on him.

"Fuck," he whines when he finally seats himself fully into you, nuzzling into your neck, overwhelmed by the heat and slick, "good fucking girl, taking me so well."

He swallows thickly, waiting a couple heartbeats to enjoy this — it's been awhile for him, too.

"Think you can take it, love?" and his fucking voice. You would agree to do anything as long as you could hear that rough accent along your throat, teeth skimming your skin.

"Yes," you breathe out harshly, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, needing him close, close, closer.

For a man of few words, Simon has a filthy mouth as he fucks into you, accompanied by groans and growls into your collar.

"Never had a cunt this perfect." "Fuckin' made for me." "Can't wait to get my tongue in you, feel you cum on my face." "No one else can have you." "You're mine."

And you, normally far more verbal than him, are reduced to nothing more than mewls and pleas and moans for more.

You mouth and nip at his jaw when you can, wanting to mark him, wanting to stake your claim. You'll be his forever if he lets you, but you'll be damned if anyone else gets to have him either.

"Simon — " is the only warning you give before you cum on his cock, head thrown back as you moan through the waves of pleasure, release coating his length and thighs.

"That's it, baby, good girl, give it to me," he says, blunt nails digging into your waist as he grinds himself deep into you. You feel so warm and pliant, the pleasure numbing your mind as he rocks himself into you.

"Wanna feel you give me one more, angel," he bites at your throat on the other side, his need to sink his teeth into every inch of your skin overwhelming. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, fucking into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and your toes curling.

You grip at him again, clawing as he fucks into you, the sound of your wet cunt taking each thrust creating a symphony with his groans and your cries. He feels so fucking good, splitting you open and making you whole, desperate for him to cum inside.

The way your nails dig into his shoulder is the sign that you're getting close, and he thrusts just a little harder, a little meaner, your cute whines growing more desperate as you walk the precipice of another orgasm.

No one's ever made you cum more than once — sometimes, not even once — and you've never been able to do it yourself either.

Simon? Fucks a second orgasm out of you like it's his life mission, ankles tightening around his neck as pleasure lines your veins, shaking as he continues to hit that spot inside you as you cum, prolonging it as much as he can.

"Baby — " he chokes out, sharp teeth on your shoulder, thrusts getting sloppy. The slick of your two releases sounds so loud in your bedroom, feeling the desperation as he thrusts, deeper, harder.

"Cum inside," you mumble against his cheek, nails scratching at the base of his skull as he thrusts once, twice, three times — the warmth of his release flooding your cunt.

He fists the sheets in one hand, nails dragging down your thigh as he pumps deep into you, your slick and his release seeping out of your hole, dripping down his balls and your asshole.

You stay like that, lips brushing, breathing in each other's air as you slowly come down from the high.

Simon gently — so gently — lowers your legs, carefully watching your face for any signs of discomfort, settling them on his hips, hands moving up and down your thighs. "Y'alright?" he asks. You swallow thickly and nod, both hands now at the base of his skull, affectionately scratching at the nape of his neck.

He slowly pulls out, and you miss the stretch and the warmth immediately. You push up on your elbows, watching as the mixture of your pleasure leaks out of you, biting you lip.

"Fuckin' beautiful," he says almost reverently, mesmerized.

He spends the next hour cleaning you up, and you think your nails create permanent marks on his shoulders.

Time bleeds together.

His contract renews on the twelfth month.

He heard rumors that Price might switch him out for another guard.

You're at the meeting — it's your bodyguard, after all, they figure you should get some input. Price has two separate folders prepared. A sharp look from Simon is all Price needed to know about how he feels. The tongue lashing you give your higher ups has Price raising his eyebrows, and Simon sits forward a little more should he need to haul you out over his shoulder.

He wouldn't mind that too much, he thinks, but he'd rather not.

Ten minutes later and you're angrily signing his renewal papers, a blotch of ink at the start of your name as you didn't even read the contract before signing, lungs burning from your rant about personal safety and what the fuck are you thinking and I didn't just buy an entirely new tea set for nothing.

You grip his wrist as soon as he signs himself, dragging him to the nearest bathroom.

His hand covers your mouth as he fucks you deep and slow.

"Don't worry, darling, 'm not going anywhere."

Eighteen months into his contract, and he's never felt so little control before in his life.

He's meticulous, prepared, tactile.

There's a gun in his holster for distance threats and a knife in his sheath for those who dare get too close.

He makes sure to memorize the exists before you even get to the venue, now making no effort to conceal himself.

He's like a shadow, or a guard dog.

You've never felt more secure, more protected.

Until —

He doesn't know how it slipped past him.

He let his eyes linger a little too long on the curve of your neck, where a new diamond pendant lay with his initial engraved on the back. He admires the dip of the dress you wear, open-back that shows the enticing expanse of your back, the dress covering you above the curve of your ass. You look back at him briefly while whomever you're with speaks, eyes sparkling in the bright light of the room, a smile reserved just for him.

He hears the cock of a hammer and his eyes snap to a gentleman who brandishes a gun like he's never held one before in his life. His eyes, though. His eyes are like fire, black with rage, staring at you with such hatred.

You look one second too late.

Simon is on you right after the click of the trigger, pushing you to the floor and caging you with his body.

"Stay down and don't fucking move," he growls as he reaches for his own weapon, up in a flash.

You can't hear anything except white noise and screams that sound muffled, heart pounding and making it hard to breathe. Two shots ring out, in tandem, and there's the telltale sign of a body hitting the floor.

Simon is by your side, eyes scanning, frantic, looking for any signs of harm.

"You okay?" he asks, carefully outstretching his hands to let you stop him from touching you should you want. you don't.

"Fine," your voice cracks, and you can't stop shaking.

"You're okay, you're okay," he says, cradling your cheeks, thumbs wiping under your eyes. "I'm so fucking sorry," he adds, guilt heavy in his chest.

You grab his wrists lightly, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look him over. You gasp, unable to catch a real breath, unable to look away from his stomach.

"Simon — " you say, horror laced in your voice.

He looks down, seeing the red seep through his shirt.

Fuck.

At least it wasn't you, he tells himself.

Nineteen months into his contract, and he isn't dead.

While he's been shot before — a fact he tells you, assuming it would comfort you, but only got him a venomous glare in return — it's been awhile.

The hospital, the stitches, the gauze and needles. He hated it then and he hates it now.

Price comes to you in the hospital — they're keeping Simon for a little, to make sure there's no complications with his healing — offering another guard in the interim while he recovers.

You've never shot down a proposal so quickly in your life. The nerve.

Twenty-two months into his contract, and the last of the moving boxes are taped shut and labeled. Some of them in your writing, the others in his. The keys to your new house are tucked into his pocket, alongside a black velvet box.

"Why do we have so much shit," you whine when packing, only two boxes deep and so many rooms left to go. You're too busy stuffing a manatee shaped steeper into a box — mana-tea, you giggled when he opened it, him rolling his eyes fondly in reply — and don't see him pause, looking at you softer, never hearing "we" before like that. Never dreaming he could hear it like that.

A lot of stalling on your part and encouragement on his, and the last box is packed and placed in the back of the truck.

He laces your fingers together as you drive to the new house, a bottle of champagne already chilled.

Twenty four months into his contract, and you come home with something hidden behind your back.

You smile like you have a secret, which would be a first.

It's awkward to bring around from your back, but there's a large German Shepard puppy wiggling in your grip, tail wagging furiously.

He feels his heart stop for a moment, unable to take his eyes off the puppy, and then the band that's sitting around your finger. He touches his own subconsciously.

You set the ball of fur down, who immediately launches at Simon, whining and wiggling and trying to give him kisses.

There's a collar and tag already there, and you watch with your heart beating faster than ever, unable to stop the smile on your lips, as he wrangles the pup enough to read it.

Riley.

[stevesgother]

From Now On (Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away) I S.H

Pairing - Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - enjoy some christmas stevie with your toddler, and a special announcement… <3

AN - oops! It appears i can’t stop writing steve as a father. y’all can thank mady @skeltn for that one. 

With love- Emma

The soft, staticky sounds of Frank Sinatra’s ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ emanate from the thrifted record player in the living room; drifting into the kitchen where you’re rolling cookie dough and wincing as your toddler tries to ‘help’ by adding way too much food coloring into the bowls of frosting.

Over the sounds of nostalgic Christmas tunes, you hear a small crash and the cursing of your husband as he attempts to wrap your eight foot tree in garland.

“You okay, honey?” You shout from where you stand at the counter.

A pause, “Yeah, I’m just–ugh these fuc–”

“Steve!--”

“Fudging lights–” he corrects, “they’re all tangled. I’ve been working at them for, like, twenty minutes,”

“Let me get these cookies in the oven, Ellie and I will come help,” you call back.

More grumbling can be heard echoing from the other room as your daughter, Eleanor, is rummaging through your small container of cookie cutters, eventually giving up and deciding that it would simply be easier to dump all of them out onto the floor.

Her pudgy little hands grab one that's shaped like santa in a sleigh as she declares,

 “I do this one,”

“Do you want mommy’s help or do you got it by yourself?”

She doesn’t respond but clumsily presses the stencil into the floured dough. It comes out a little wonky, but you don’t mind, you aren’t going for perfection. Steve will have eaten them all within the next few hours, anyway.

Speak of the devil, “How are my girls doin’?” he saunters over to you, slightly sweaty from the exertion of decorating the tree and presses a kiss to both yours and Ellie’s cheeks.

When he sees Eleanor’s handiwork, he gasps, “Ellie, baby, these are beautiful!” He fawns over the barely recognizable shapes on the baking sheet like they’re the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen in his whole life.

Ellie can tell he’s pleased with her and starts to giggle with her sticky hands over her mouth. You wisely chose a recipe that didn’t call for eggs, knowing your three-year-old was bound to ingest the raw dough at some point during the process.

Now that Steve’s in the room though, she conveniently decides she’s done helping and motions with her arms for her dad to pick her up. He does so without hesitation, even though she’s covered in frosting and flour, easily lifting her from where she stands in just an oversized tee on a step ladder against the cabinets.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, huh? Give mommy a break,” he looks pleadingly to you, “Can you please try to untangle the lights while I’m gone?” And how could you say no when he looks so pretty and asks so nicely?

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

By the time you’re finally done unraveling and applying a mess of sparkly bulbs and shiny tinsel to your Christmas tree, Ellie comes barreling out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around her and Steve hot on her tail. Miniature wet footprints mark a path from the bathroom door all the way to the couch, and it doesn’t take a scientist to figure out who the culprit is.

“Eleanor Rose!” He yells through gritted teeth, solely because he’s fighting a smile.

You laugh boisterously as you watch your grown husband chase after a toddler in an uncomfortable crouched position that looks ridiculous displayed on someone his size. It’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Now his feigned frustration is directed towards you, “Are you just gonna stand there and laugh or are you gonna help me catch this gremlin?!”

As it turns out, he doesn’t need help after all. When Ellie reaches the couch, she realizes she has nowhere left to turn and succumbs to a fit of giggles on the fluffy cushions. She’s red in the face and certainly not dry, but you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed. Your couch might be a little soggy, your floor might be a little slippery, and Steve might be absolutely exhausted, but you don’t dare dream of your life looking any differently than this.

Steve’s playing Tickle Monster with Ellie when you realize she still needs her pajamas on.

“You wanna get her dressed or shall I?” You ask him over your daughter’s squealing.

“Oh, take her, please,” you can tell he’s teasing though. If you really wanted, Steve would let you lounge in your bathrobe all day– reading Cosmos and drinking iced tea while he took care of Ellie. He’s in his element when he’s spending time with her. Even when you were just silly teenagers in love, you’d never seen him so fulfilled as he is now.

That sentiment is the only reason why you don’t feel wracked with nerves over the news you’re about to deliver him.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Steve’s putting the last of the ornaments on the tree when Ellie reappears from her bedroom with a huge smile plastered to her face. She careens into his shins and he stumbles a little with the unexpected force.

“Hi, peanut!” He grunts a little when he picks her up. You follow suit, wearing the matching pajamas Steve had picked out at Sears for everyone last weekend.

“Did you get your jammies–?” His eyebrows knit together, puzzled, as he realizes he doesn’t recognize the top she has on as the one he bought for you all to wear tonight.

“Babe, why didn’t you put her in the–”

It's then that he catches the words printed on shirt in bold, pink letters,

‘Big Sister.’

Once the initial confusion passes, his eyes immediately well with tears and his features soften like butter.

“What? He asks in that quiet, wobbly voice you’d only ever heard him use a handful of times.

“Surprise,” you respond timidly with your hands out in an almost-shrug.

He sets Eleanor down as gently as he can while also rushing to your side. He embraces you so tight it nearly knocks the wind out of you. When he lets up, he still doesn’t let you go far as he cups your face in both of his warm hands.

“How long have you known?”

“A week or so,” you shrug.

“Baby, I can’t believe this!” his quiet, shocked demeanor quickly morphs into something more like excited giddiness and he’s practically jumping up and down now.

“Oh my God!” He picks Ellie up and swings her around by her armpits before smacking kisses all over her tiny face. You know she’s still a bit too young to properly comprehend the gravity of the announcement, but she’s just so happy because her dad’s so happy.

“Ellie Bear! Mommy’s having a baby!” He holds her by her torso and gives her a light shake, she just throws her head back and laughs, not a clue what’s got him so worked up. With her belly exposed, he blows a raspberry on the exposed skin.

You make your way back to his side and engulf them both in a hug. Your perfect little family of three, soon to be four, and you couldn’t be more content than you are in this moment.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Two hours and one Christmas TV special later, Ellie is snuggled tight to Steve’s chest, lost to slumber. It appears Steve’s not too far behind her as his head is rested against the back of the couch– mouth open and slightly snoring– comforted by his own personal weighted blanket.

“Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a gentle shake, “don’t fall asleep,”

“Jus’ resting my eyes, darlin’,”

You scoff, teasing, “Right,”

He looks down at the sleeping child nuzzled into him, and plants a barely there kiss to the crown of her head. He rises slowly, so as not to wake her, and you follow him to her room.

He sets her down atop the frilly pink comforter with a practised ease, she stirs only slightly, and covers her up with a Disney Princess blanket that was previously splayed at the end of the mattress. You take turns giving her featherlight kisses and wishing her ‘sweet dreams’ even though you know she can’t hear you.

You and Steve are hand in hand as you tiptoe out of her room and close the door with a soft click, giggling like children.

Outside her door, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to each cheek. Then to your mouth.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you,” he whispers back, “more than anything,”

“Wanna call it a night?”

“Can we make out first?”

You gasp in faux disapprovement as you smack a loving hand against his chest and he fakes a wince for dramatic effect. Always the drama queen, your Steve.

“Keep it in your pants, Big Boy,”

“Don’t call me that,” he tries to sound stern and fails.

“You love it,” you smirk.

You squeal when he grabs you behind your knees and hoists you up and over his shoulders.

“Quiet, baby. You’re gonna wake up our baby,” he scolds through a giggle. You pinch his butt in retaliation.

“Okay, that’s it. Off to bed with you,”

The next hour is spent in bed with your best friend– hushed laughs and languid kisses and skin caressing skin before you both drift off into a peaceful sleep; holding each other close like you always have.

divider credit to @/strangergraphics