#shakes him. you will enjoy ME with me boy.

[tbaluver]

Have you ever heard of the belief where beauty marks are where your previous lover liked to kiss you in a past life? Could I request headcanons for the LaDS boys reaction to MC mentioning it?

Kisses From The Past- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: fluff fluff a/n: hihi my luv ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i apologize this took me SOO long !! this was such a cute req and it def had me looking for my beauty marks all over my body (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You two were cuddling on the couch when you innocently mentioned it. He’d think for a while, his blue orbs staring right back at you softly. He’d reminisce all your past lives that he’s traveled too for you. A gentle smile would tug at his lips as he thinks about all the kisses he’s done and the beauty marks you would have all over your body.

“Yes. It’s true,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses along your neck. His hands softly slip inside the hem of your shirt as he reminisces about the past.

He continues his kisses lower, softly pressing his lips to each of your beauty marks as if he’s connecting them while tracing the familiar path of your skin. Then he pulls back slightly, his eyes narrowing. “You’re missing one here..but you have one here..” he murmurs, “Was someone here before me?”

You would have marks all over your body all day long with Xavier completely unaware that he was the one who marked that spot in the past.

Zayne:

When Zayne comes home and pulls you closer, you can’t help but bring it up to Zayne. He would think about it for a moment and softly shake his head, denying it. But his stance would shift the moment he sees your smile quickly turn into a pout.

“Well that’s not possible because...” he trails off, noticing the way your lips drop into a subtle frown. “I don’t need a beauty mark to remember where I loved to touch and kiss you in another lifetime.”

Although Zayne might not fully believe in the concept of past lives, a part of him believes that if it were true, he would find you again in the next one. Those memories and familiar feelings would definitely resurface, like an instinct in his soul that guides him back to you no matter how many lifetimes have passed.

Rafayel:

You would bring it up while he’s examining your face, looking for inspiration for his sculpture. The moment those words leave your lips, his face automatically lights up

He absolutely LOVES the belief that your beauty mark is a place where your previous lover loved to kiss you in your past life. To him it means that you’ve always been connected even when life pulls you two apart again. You two were meant for each other in every life and he will always always find you in each time line.

Rafayel would definitely tease you about how you only have a few “beauty marks” and how he has a lot of them. “geez you must realllyy like kissing me here..and here huh cutie?” His past life couldn’t have possibly kissed you in a few spots. There’s no way you're missing some many areas so now it’s his current life’s duty to fill in those gaps.

He’ll always leave a lingering kiss on every place on every part of your body that he thinks needs to be “revisited”, making sure he’ll keep kissing that exact same area so in the next life he’ll remember this. “Looks like I've taken care of all the spots this time....but I think you need a couple more cutie.”

Sylus:

Sylus sits up, cleaning one of his vintage guns while you’re nestled between his legs. You’re scrolling through your phone when a post about beauty marks catches your eyes. Curiosity piqued as you crawl on top of him, innocently asking, “Do you believe that beauty marks are where your previous lover liked to kiss you?

He falls quiet for a moment, his finger gently guiding your chin so you meet his gaze. He studies your face before drifting down to your body with a mischievous smirk. “Looks like you’re missing a lot then sweetie.” He murmurs, his hands roaming over your body. “I guess I’ll have to kiss every single one again and maybe more, so you’ll remember me in the next life." He whispers softly, brushing a gentle kiss across your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow and tender kiss. He pulls back just slightly, his breath warm against your lips with a teasing smirk. “But where are mine sweetie?”

Each one lingers as he continues to trail lower and lower on every surface of your skin with the hope that will leave a mark to to carry in the next life.

[snoopychris]

dilf!chris is struggling and needs younger!readers help

chris sighed as his four year old rejected his food again. he felt like he had made every possible meal by now. eggs, pancakes, waffles, he even went out of his way to call his mom for a french toast recipe. “owen, buddy. hey i need you to eat.” he frowns, ruffling the kids hair. “i’ve made you everything by now! i can’t make you much more… we don’t have much more. i’m gonna be eatin all this food for multiple meals.” he whispers. he knew that owen didn’t understand much, but he still tried. owen huffed and crossed his arms, shaking his head.

“cocoa puffs!” he whines, pouting his big brown eyes at his father. owen, otherwise a spitting image of chris, had his mothers eyes. it was the only feature he seemed to have of hers. chris sighs again as he nods in defeat, grabbing the cereal box from the top of the fridge. he serves a small portion in an equally small bowl for the boy, but groans when he’s opens the fridge and discovers he’s out of milk. that damn french toast. he glances outside to determine if it was worth going out with a toddler. when he sees the snow falling, he decides against it.

“sorry bud. guess you’ll have to eat it dry.” he mumbles, giving the boy an apologetic kiss on the head. owen frowns at the sight, pushing the cereal away too. chris’ frown grows and if anyone were to see the two boys pouting at that moment they’d know they were related. “owen.” he speaks sternly, his patience suddenly flying out the window into the storm. owen’s little lip trembles at his dad’s tone. chris never yells. he’s never mean. he swore to be everything his dad wasn’t. tears form in the poor boys eyes. he’s about to break down. chris tries his best to prevent the situation by pulling him into his arms, rubbing the back of his head. “hey… it’s okay. we’ll go buy some milk later and you can have that for lunch yeah?” he mumbles, running fingers through the boys hair. when owen begins to reply, he’s cut off by a knock on their door.

owen hops off his chair and begins running towards the door, his little feet going slower than he hopes. “mommy! daddy mommy’s here!” he yells. chris only frowns cause he knows that no, owen’s mom definitely isn’t there. as much as he wishes that she was on the other side, he knew that there was no way. he catches up to the boy and moves him aside gently.

“no bud it’s not mommy. move over so i can open the door yeah?” chris whispers, slowly opening the door. he’s shocked when you’re on the other side, a big tupperwear in your hands. “hey, kid. what are you doin here? it’s storming out there, don’t tell me you came all the way over here to return an old container of mine? unless you’re just using it as an excuse for something else which… just isn’t the best time right now.” he asks, moving aside to let you in. you shake your head as you walk in, pushing your hood off your head.

“no i um… actually made like… way too much chicken noodle soup last night. my dad told me to bring some over.” you smile, placing it on the table. you kneel down to be eye level with owen, noticing his messy hair. “y’just wake up or something? why’s that hair a mess?” you joke, glancing up towards chris. you smile at him, his hair messy just like his toddlers. owen giggles at your words, tumbling towards the container on the counter.

“daddy, soup?” he whispers, batting his eyes at his father. chris chuckles and nods, taking the container to the kitchen and serving the young boy some. a genuine smile runs across chris’ face when owen begins happily eating, enjoying every bite. chris sends you a look. you can’t tell what it’s for at first, but you understand when chris speaks.

“thank you… he hasn’t wanted to eat anything yet.” he whispers, looking over all the other food on his kitchen counter. “you hungry?” his smile grows when you nod and begin to dig into some of the food sitting out.

dividers by @issysh3ll !!

a/n: dilf!chris i adore you

taglist(reply or message to be added!): @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @chrisscoraline @forgottxen @blahbel668 @ivyyyyyysposts @h0e4fictionalme-n @riasturns @sofieeeeex @littlebookworm803 @allylovescody @ribread03 @mattg1rl @cheesecakedolll @chrislova @ikyoudreamofme @ayesha-eroticaa @ivysturnss @slutformatt17

[greengoblinswifey]

Club Rendezvous—Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader

summary— while on spring break, you cross paths with Luigi Mangione at a club, sparking an immediate connection that leads to a night in your hotel room. based on this request.

warnings— grinding, drinking, fingering, cunnilingus, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

a/n— Those photos are so fratboy Luigi coded, idk I like this little mood board, enjoy <3 I really hope he’s doing well, my heart aches when I think about him.

The club was alive, the high energy vibes only spring break could deliver. Neon lights flashed across the crowd, music boomed loud enough to shake the walls, and you and your friends were in the middle of it all. Drinks in hand, laughter over the music, you were living your best life. Your group wasn’t shy about taking over the dance floor, swaying your hips to the beat, your confidence catching more than a few eyes.

Among those eyes were his. Some tall, dark curly haired guy leaned casually against the bar, drink in hand, charm on full display. His backwards cap barely kept his dark curls in check, and his sleeveless shirt revealed toned arms. He was the type of guy who made heads turn without even trying. And tonight, his focus was on you.

You noticed him when you turned toward the bar, locking eyes for the briefest second. His smirk was teasing, and when he tipped his drink in your direction, you knew the game was on.

“Who’s that fine ass staring at you like you’re the last shot at the bar?” your friend shouted over the music, nudging you.

“Probably just some frat boy who thinks he’s cute,” you replied, though your smile betrayed you.

“Girl, he’s cute!” another friend chimed in. “Go dance with him!”

You rolled your eyes playfully but turned your attention back to the dance floor. It wasn’t long before he made his move, walking through the crowd until he was standing close enough for you to feel his presence.

“You dance as good as you look?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“Why don’t you find out?” you shot back, challenging him.

He laughed, the sound sexy and confident. “I was hoping you’d say that, I’m Luigi by the way.”

“And I’m Y/N,” you flirted.

Before you knew it, he was behind you, his hands resting respectfully at your hips, waiting for your cue. When you started to move, he followed your lead effortlessly, the two of you in sync. The beat pulsed through your body as you threw your ass back, his grip tightening slightly to match your rhythm.

Your friends were cheering you on from the sidelines, one even yelling, “Get it, girl! Pull him in!”

“Your friends are wild,” Luigi said with a chuckle, his lips close enough to your ear to send a shiver down your spine.

“They’re hyping me up,” you replied, glancing back at him. “Don’t let ‘em down.”

“Oh, I won’t,” he promised, his cute smirk widening.

You felt on top of the world as you moved together, his presence grounding you while the world spun around you. The chemistry was undeniable, and the looks your friends shot your way only fueled your confidence.

“You’re stealing the show out here,” he murmured.

“Good,” you said, flashing him a grin over your shoulder. “I’m worth it.”

When the song ended, you turned to face him, breathless but grinning. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, and for a moment, it felt like maybe you were.

“Wanna grab a drink?” he asked, his tone a mix of boldness and uncertainty.

“Depends,” you said, tilting your head. “Are you buying?”

“For you?” He laughed, already nodding. “Absolutely.”

As you walked toward the bar together, your friends erupted into cheers behind you.

“Go get your white boy, queen!” one shouted, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Guess I’ve got a lot to live up to,” Luigi joked, glancing at your retreating friends.

“You better,” you replied, “Think you can handle it?”

“With you?” His smirk softened into something genuine. “I’ll try my best.”

Spring break had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

The bass of the club faded slightly as you and Luigi leaned against the bar, drinks in hand. He hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d introduced himself, and you couldn’t deny how charming his boyish confidence was. You had a good feeling about him.

“So, what’s your story?” Luigi asked, sipping his drink and leaning closer to hear you over the music.

“Just here for spring break with my girls,” you said with a shrug, “What about you?”

“Same,” he said, his eyes lingering on yours, “Though I’m thinking this night just got a lot better.”

“You’ve got lines, huh?”

“Only when they’re true,” he replied, raising his glass toward you.

Feeling bold, the words spat out of your mouth before you could overthink them. “You wanna come back to my hotel?”

Luigi’s thick eyebrows raised slightly, his grin widening. “I’d love to,” he said, “But only if I get to take you on a date tomorrow morning.”

“Deal.”

Within minutes, he’d called an Uber he paid for, and the two of you were in the backseat, the city lights blurring past the windows. Luigi had his arm draped casually along the back of the seat, his fingers brushing your shoulder. You turned to him, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was soft at first, testing, but quickly deepened. His hand slid to cup your jaw, pulling you closer. “You taste like trouble,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and intoxicating.

“You’re one to talk,” you whispered, nipping at his bottom lip, earning a low chuckle from him.

By the time you reached the hotel, the air between you was charged. In the elevator, the doors had barely closed before Luigi pressed you against the wall, his lips capturing yours in a feral kiss. His hands roamed over your sides before one slid lower, fingers trailing into your bottoms.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Luigi,” you breathed out, your knees going weak as his fingers found your pussy.

“You’re so wet for me,” he said, his voice low as his fingers thrusted in slow strokes. “You’re so tight.”

You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, but the soft whimper you let out when his thumb pressed against your clit betrayed you. His lips found your ear. “Don’t you dare hold those moans. I wanna hear you.”

When the elevator dinged, you both barely managed to pull yourselves together, your face dazed and breaths uneven. Stumbling down the hallway, Luigi was still kissing your neck as you fumbled with the keycard, his lips sending shivers down your spine.

The door finally opened, and the two of you stumbled inside, laughing softly before his lips found yours again. You fell back onto the bed, Luigi bracing himself above you as his kisses moved down your neck to your collarbone.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his hands tracing your sides. “I’ve never seen anyone like you.”

“You’re just saying that,” you teased.

He shook his head, his eyes meeting yours with a seriousness that made your heart race. “Nah, I mean it. You’re stunning, and you’re driving me insane.”

His lips claimed yours again, his praise melting into your skin as his hands explored, every touch making you feel like he meant what he said.

His hands worked at the hem of your top, his lips brushing against your jawline. His fingers grazed your skin, pulling off your bottoms next slowly, leaving you in your bra and panties.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes roaming over you like you were something rare. “I don’t think you even realize.”

You felt the warmth rise to your cheeks, your fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt in response. “You first,” you teased.

With a smirk, Luigi pulled off his shirt, revealing a toned torso with abs that had your breath hitching. When his hands worked to remove your bra, his fingers grazed your nipples. Once he freed you from it, he paused, staring at you as if committing every detail to memory.

“You’re perfect,” he said.

Your panties were the last to go, and when you reached for his waistband, he let out a soft laugh, his hands gently stopping yours. “Let me take care of you first, pretty girl. Tonight’s about you.”

Your lips parted in surprise, but Luigi was already lowering himself onto his knees at the edge of the bed. “Can I?” he asked, fingers resting on your thighs.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, and he flashed you a small, reassuring smile. “Good girl,” he murmured.

The first stroke of his tongue had you gasping, your back arching slightly. He knew what he was doing, his mouth working against you with a precision that had your legs trembling. You couldn’t help but run your fingers through his soft curls, tugging gently as he grinned against your skin.

“You taste incredible,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he continued, “I could stay here all night.”

“Luigi,” you breathed, your voice breaking as he pressed his tongue in deeper, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady.

“You like that, don’t you?”

Your only response was a soft whimper, your head falling back as his tongue worked wonders against your quivering pussy. He lapped at your juices like a man starved, leaving not one inch of your pussy untouched. When your body finally gave in, shuddering beneath him and creaming, he pulled away, lips and chin glistening to smirk at you.

“You’re a dream,” he whispered, licking his lips and climbing back onto the bed.

You tugged him down for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “Lemme take care of you now,” you offered breathlessly, reaching for his waistband again.

Luigi caught your hand, shaking his head with a smirk. “Another time. Tonight, it’s all about you. You’ve got no idea how lucky I feel.”

He leaned down, kissing your forehead, his tenderness making you realize you had scored the jackpot. He stood at the edge of the bed, his hands moving to unbuckle his pants as your gaze followed him. When he finally slipped them off, your eyes widened in disbelief at the sheer size of his hard dick.

“You’re joking,” you murmured, earning a low chuckle from him.

“Don’t worry, baby” he said, leaning down to kiss you softly. “You can take it. I’ll make sure of it.”

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his eyes locking onto yours. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked his tone serious.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“We can stop anytime,” Luigi reminded you, cupping your cheek. “Just say the word.”

“I’m sure, Luigi,” you assured him.

“Okay, amore,” he whispered, the word rolling off his tongue effortlessly. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Luigi positioned himself above you, one hand gripping yours as he lined his cock with your entrance. His lips brushed against your temple as he slowly pushed in, both of you hissing at the sensation.

“Luigi,” you whimpered, gripping his hand tightly.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he praised. He set a steady rhythm, his strokes careful but deep enough to find your sweet spot. “You feel so good.”

“You’re so big,” you panted, your head falling back against the pillows.

“Yeah?” he smirked, leaning down to kiss you. “Who’s making you feel good?”

“You are, Luigi,” you gasped, your body reacting to every word and thrust.

“That’s right,” he murmured against your lips. “Only me.”

He quickened his pace slightly, his hand slipping to your waist to steady you. The pleasure was becoming too much as he bottomed out and slammed back in, each thrust making your pussy quiver. “Cum on my dick, amore,” he coaxed, his voice soft.

Your pussy obeyed, a wave of release coursing through you as his thrusts slowed down, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his lips curving into that beautiful smile.

Before you could fully recover, Luigi flipped you onto your stomach, his hand sliding down your back. “You look so good like this,” he murmured, gripping your hips as he started again.

You pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, the pleasure building faster this time. “I— I don’t know if I can hold on,” you stammered, your voice trembling.

“You don’t have to,” he reassured. “Cum for me baby. I’ve got you.”

Your body surrendered again, practically soaking his cock and the sheets, and he leaned down, pressing kisses along your shoulder. He gently turned you onto your side, lifting your leg as he settled behind you. His pace was slower now, deeper inside you, his hand brushing over your thigh as he whispered praises into your ear and you moaned his name like it was the only word you knew.

“You’re amazing, amore,” he said, his lips brushing against your neck. “I love this pussy.”

You reached back to touch his arm, your breathing steadying as he continued to hold you close. He pressed kisses to the side of your face, his grip tightening on your leg as he rolled his hips with precision. You were so sensitive, all in your mind was his cock slamming into you then retreating with just the tip before he thrusted back in again. He found your sweet spot each time, your pussy quivering with every movement.

“Luigi,” you moaned, feeling your orgasm approaching.

“I know baby, I know. Cum with me. Can I cum inside you,” he asked.

“Mhmm—please, cum inside me,” you whimpered.

He reached down to rub your clit and it sent you right over the edge. You cried out, your body shaking under his touch as a wave of liquid sprayed from your pussy. He fucked you through your orgasm and soon you felt the feeling of warm sticky cum filling you to the brim.

You both lay there panting, and you could feel his cum oozing from your pussy as he pulled out.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, disappearing into the bathroom.

You barely had the energy to lift your head, but moments later, he returned with a warm, damp towel in hand. Sitting beside you, he placed a hand on your thigh and smiled. “Let me take care of you.”

He started cleaning you up carefully. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, glancing at you with concern.

“No,” you replied, your voice a little hoarse. “I’m good. Just tired.”

He chuckled, setting the towel aside and lying down beside you. “Tired? I’ll take that as a compliment,” he teased, brushing a stray curl from your face.

“You would,” you murmured, cracking a small smile.

He shifted closer, pulling the blanket over both of you. “So,” he started, “was it as good as you imagined it would be?”

“Confident much?” you said as you rolled your eyes playfully.

He grinned, leaning on his elbow to look at you better. “Hey, I’m just asking. You’re the one who moaned ‘Luigi’ about a hundred times.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grew flustered and hit his arm lightly.

“Now, tomorrow before the date, breakfast on the beach? Or room service?”

“Surprise me,” you said, already feeling your eyes grow heavy.

He settled in beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Deal. Sweet dreams, amore.”

“Night, Luigi,” you murmured, your head resting against his chest as you drifted off, feeling completely safe and cared for.

[jjscrybaby]

prompt: ‘someone tying up your seatbelt for you’ from @scealaiscoite

rafe cameron x fem!reader | fluff | (bsf!rafe, bsf!reader, drinking, both of them are complete simps, kelce & top.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One foot in front of the other. You looked down at your kitten heels, stumbling over yourself as you tried to get from the kitchen to the backyard. You hadn’t seen any of your friends for at least an hour, too busy getting yourself too drunk to even remember they existed.

That’s probably why you squealed in excitement as Kelce began to walk towards the back door just as you were walking out. “Kelce!” You beamed, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“Hey— Jesus, you smell like a brewery,” he joked, arm wrapping around your shoulders. “C’mon, we’ve been lookin’ all over for you.”

Your friend led you to the seating area in the garden, a variety of Kook’s sat around smoking cigarettes but your eyes were only focused on one. The moment Rafe saw you under Kelce’s arm you swore you could see the sigh of relief, he stood up and rushed over to the pair of you.

“Where the fuck you been?” He exclaimed, taking your stumbling-self from Kelce’s arm to wrap his around your waist. Your head rested against his shoulder, a hazy giggle leaving your lips.

“Partying,” you murmured, looking up at him with a lovesick smile.

“Jesus,” Kelce muttered, face scrunching up in disgust. He’d be sure to tell Topper about his little moment; he’s hellbent on winning the bet that you’ll be the first to admit your feelings for Rafe.

“Get her some water,” Rafe demanded, barely looking at the other boy as he spun on his heel and pulled you along with him back to the seats.

There was only space for one, but you were too drunk to even think it was odd for him to pull you into his lap. There was a fireplace in the middle, warming you up. Your arm wrapped around his shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair as you tried to pay attention to the conversation Topper and Rafe were having.

“Here you go, madam,” Kelce snorted, handing over a red-solo cup filled to the brim with tap water. You accepted it happily, guzzling it down as the dehydration hit you.

“Alright— you’re gettin’ it all over me,” Rafe complained, holding the bottom of the cup to stop you from spilling anymore.

“I’m thirsty,” you argued, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Not surprised. How many of them cocktails you had tonight, huh?” He teased, taking the cup from your hold to put on the stone floor.

“So many,” you giggled, laying your head back on his shoulder.

“Mhm,” he hummed, rubbing your back gently before turning back to Topper, who had a similar expression on his face to Kelce; disgust.

There are certain rules to being best friends with three boys, and one of them should be not falling in love with any of them. You couldn’t help yourself, not with the way Rafe took care of you, or the way he looked at you, not to mention how handsome he really is.

You stared at the side of his face, memorising every detail to his pretty face. He noticed, but he knew if he brought it up to tease you you’d probably burst into tears. So, he minded his own business and let you have your fun of running your finger over his jawline.

Only another half an hour went by before Rafe was patting your thigh. “Ready to go, babe?”

“No,” you whined, shaking your head. “I don’t want to go yet. Only been here, like, ten minutes!”

“That’s just not true,” Topper muttered. Rafe shot him a glare, waving him off to silently tell him to go round up Kelce.

Rafe turned back to your pouting-self, an amused huff leaving his mouth. He prodded at your pouty lip. “Non of that. This shit’s borin’, you can’t really be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” you replied, glaring at him; in his eyes you looked like an angry puppy.

“Well… would you rather stay here, or come back to Tannyhill and order a pizza?” He asked, tilting his head at you. You were tripping over yourself to get off his lap within seconds. “‘Atta girl.”

Your arm was linked through his as the two of you walked through the house, you saying goodbye to everyone and Rafe huffing and puffing from next to you. It took ten minutes to even get out of the house, by the time you did he was sighing in utter relief.

“The fuck took so long?” Kelce complained, him and Topper leaning against the side of Rafe’s truck.

“She wanted to say goodbye to everyone, and then to all the animals,” Rafe grumbled.

“There weren’t any animals,” Topper replied, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“There was a gold fish.”

As Rafe unlocked the truck, Kelce and Topper got in the back; they already knew that the passenger seat was reserved for you. Rafe opened the door and helped you sit down, watching for a moment as you just stared up at him.

“Seatbelt,” he stated, waiting to see you put it on.

You reached for it, but your fingers were numb and you could barely drag it over yourself. You tried again, this time letting out a whine of irritation that it wasn’t going where you wanted.

“You’re a mess,” Rafe muttered, but the lazy smile on his face told you that he didn’t mean it. He grabbed the seatbelt and reached over you, clicking it into place. “There we go.”

“Thanks, Rafey,” you grinned, he smiled back, kissing your forehead before closing the door.

“God,” Kelce groaned. “I’m sick of the pining. We need to find new friends.”

“Agreed,” Topper muttered as Rafe got in the truck.

“Agreed on what?” He asked, looking back at them.

“That you can just drop us back home. We won’t interrupt your date night,” Kelce responded, a smirk on his lips.

He expected instant carnage, every time him or Topper made a ‘joke’ that they didn’t want to be around the two of you because they were third wheeling you’d throw a fit. It was mainly from the embarrassment that they were right and exposing you in front of Rafe. However, this time there was no response from you.

“That’s probably for the best,” Rafe shrugged, starting up the engine as he pulled his own seatbelt on.

“Damn it,” Kelce sighed. There was a chance he wasn’t going to win this bet; because Topper was certain it would be Rafe that would reveal his feelings first.

With you sat in his passenger seat, looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, there’s a chance he was right. Rafe’s a sucker for you, and there’s nothing he likes more than when you look at him like that.

[melobin]

sub anton 6 and 7 (ignore the other ask)

6. "we shouldn't be doing this"

7. "how long have you been dreaming about this?"

“we shouldn’t be doing this” anton let out a deep, heavy sigh, his hands shaking as he slowly lifted them to hold onto your hips. you stayed straddling him, your lips grazed over his, your voice low as you whispered back.

“do you want me to stop?”

“no” his voice was panicked, his word rushed as his grip on your hips tightened. anton couldn’t let you go, not now. even if it was wrong, even if people could get hurt from what you were doing, he needed you. the situation you were in, both of you stripped down to your underwear with nothing else in between. you were so close to him, yet it didn’t feel close enough.

“you’re so sweet, toni” you let your fingers trace his jawline, softly touching his skin as you kissed him properly. anton melted under you, a whimper slipping from his lips as he held you against him “how long have you been dreaming about this?” anton whimpered as you broke the kiss, his lips already beginning to swell.

you ground your hips down against his, your skin beginning to stick to his due to the heat formulating between the two of you. the feeling of his cock beneath you made you dizzy, but you were determined to keep your composure in front of him.

“hm?” you questioned him again, wanting to hear his response.

“so long” he gulped, his words shaky and his eyes glazed over, his mind began to turn hazy “too long” you felt his nails dig into your skin, his fingers pressing deep into you as you continued to grind down against him, eagerly taking in every weak moan he let out.

“mhm” you looked at him, fingers still dancing across his skin “wanna know how it feels inside?” you muttered. antons eyes lit up, his brows furrowing as if he was unsure that you had actually said that. it took him a few moments before he regained control again, lips parting to reply.

“please” you smiled sweetly at him, hand pushing into the briefs his was wearing before you released his cock from them. you dragged your hand down it, letting his precum slicken his girth before you pushed your own panties aside. you kept your eyes on his as you felt his tip press against your clit, the motion made your body twitch instinctively. you wouldn’t admit it to the boy but you needed this just as bad as he did, you just enjoyed the fact he was as desperate as he was.

sinking down, you watched as his eyes shut and his lips parted, his face becoming flushed as you engulfed him with your walls. anton was overwhelmed, unsure on what to do with himself as you let him into you. he was panicked, aroused, far too gone to care about the fact he knew he was going to cum way sooner than he wished.

he cherished the moments where you sat on his lap, cock nestled inside of you. it was peaceful, but bothersome, his cock painfully hard, throbbing inside of you.

he wasn’t sure when it happened but his head found comfort in the crook of your neck, your fingers twirling around the strands as you lifted your hips before sinking them back down again, letting him whimper into the skin of your neck. you were sure you even felt a few tears seep into your skin too.

you both knew this wasn’t the last time you were going to have him like this.

[stxneflxwers]

I saw your post and came running 👀 I've been thinking about this since the end of December bc I really did not get into the holiday spirit until after it was over lmao BUT for any characters you want to write for: what are they like during the holidays? What traditions do they like to do? What gifts do they give you?

(Extra ideas you can take or leave if it helps your inspiration at all — How does Aventurine feel when you tell him you don't need any of those expensive gifts, just time with him? How does Sunday react when you sit him down to tell him he's stressing himself out too hard trying to find a perfect gift for you and that all you want is for him to be happy? How does Dan Heng respond when you tell him that the only gift you want for the holidays is him?)

^ I've just been rotating the hsr boys in my head all day at work lol so I have a lot of Thoughts™

gift of love.

summary. the greatest gift of all is his love.

a/n. tysm for the request!!! i decided to settle with gift-giving ideas you offered, since it sounded interesting and cute!! im just gonna stick with aven and sunday for this tho... i wanna test how sunday writes for me.

characters. aventurine. sunday.

cw. first time writing for sunday (this is more of a test with how much i enjoy writing him, sry for any OOC-ness). gift-giving. all lowercase. established relationship(s). PLS NOTE THAT I HAVEN'T DONE THE NEW TRAILBLAZE MISSION STILL CUZ I'M A LAZY MFER...SORRY.

aventurine.

tries to be soooo sneaky about figuring out what you like as gifts. he wants all of his gifts to be a surprise, after all! it doesn't work. you see right through his game plan. he's a smidgen disappointed (with himself), and might be a bit surprised depending on the kind of person you are.

he still ends up showering you in expensive gifts of things you enjoy. he tries to find the most expensive edition of any of those things even though he, of all people, should know that expensive ≠ well-made. you have to tell him to chill out.

he immediately believes you're angry with him (why wouldn't you be?). but you're not, and you can see the panic flash in his eyes for the tiniest of moments. you sigh softly with a wary smile. you briefly give him some space before talking to him about it.

you tell him that all the most expensive gifts in the world are nothing in comparison to quality time together. you remain patient with an open-mind and a listening ear – you know he needs a wealth of both. you make sure to tell him you miss him.

his mouth hangs open in silence when you tell him that, for once he's at a loss for words. his mouth closes and he smiles. he takes you into a soft hug and whispers, "i miss you too."

he makes an evident effort to be around you more often when he does have the time. you know, instead of wasting half of it out in the casino.

and it makes all the difference.

sunday.

the most perfectionist to ever perfectionist. stop him before he literally keels over from stress.

thankfully, you notice how weary he's been. and you ask him what's wrong. because at this point – everyone knows, everyone notices how he's been stuck in his head (more than usual). he frets over little things, as usual. but now he seems almost snippy. birdie is cranky.

when he eventually gives in and confesses that he cannot find the "right" gift for you, you're smiling and shaking your head. you give him a very long moment of silence, testing him – seeing if he catches on what you'll say next.

he doesn't catch on "quick enough", much to his dismay. perhaps he hasn't adjusted to your praises and reassurances...yet.

you tell him that the greatest gift of all would be for him to be happy. to be relaxed. to be in the moment. you throw in a little whisper, "maybe by my side, too."

he's silent – his mind running amok with what to say next. he settles for an awkward yet genuinely affectionate, "thank you..."

and then he asks for your forgiveness once he collects himself. you laugh softly and forgive him, you've gotten used to him asking for your forgiveness rather often. only yours, though.

at some point, you're going to need to tell him that forgiving himself is far more important.

[andcars]

ㅤ [ 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬 ]

premise. if you were a better woman, you wouldn't be sleeping with your husband's driver. it's just that there's something about a broken marriage and an overeager young man to fuck you

tags #ㅤfranco colapinto/female reader, infidelity, porn with little plot, mentions of gambling addiction, younger franco colapinto, older reader wc #ㅤ 1k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

You tell yourself over and over again that it would be the last time. Over and over again, you find yourself in the arms of Franco Colapinto. It would be damn near guilt wrecking if not for your own husband being determined to waste his millions in gambling to even notice your sullen heart. If he wasn’t so blinded by his own greed, maybe you would forgive him. Maybe you would feel a single ounce of guilt if he didn’t piss you off. Every second more into your marriage, it’s like he forgets that he ever married you to begin with. The only thing you are to him is a bed warmer. The bed has been cold for months.

Franco is… something. He’s younger, athletic—the fucking Formula 1 driver under your husband’s team. He’s the driver he favours among his current and even old ones. Fucking him almost felt like a big fuck you to your husband. You don’t really care. When you’re in the garage, Franco talks to you more than your husband. He’s eyeing you from the other side, distracted by your presence as his engineer explains to him whatever it is that they need to explain. The sport never really had a big impact on you before, you only had to fake it for the marriage. There are no faux smiles or excitement this time.

He approaches you, mischief in his eyes. “Who are you here to support,” he asks, looking around as he whispers into your ears, “your husband or me?” The scoff you let out is a bit too loud. It’s like the man doesn’t have censorship. The flirt radiating off of him blinds his other great features as a driver. 

“Go race, boy,” you tell him. He’s not so annoyed at the nickname, but he's more amused by your names. “It’d make my partner very, very happy if you were to get a win today.” As if on cue, your husband calls him over. He glances at you briefly but looks as if he thinks nothing of it. It’s just Franco talking to his wife, nothing suspicious at all. The man is a mouse that continues to think that its cheese is safe to consume. A rat. Starving, greedy, and blind.

Later that night, it’s not your husband’s hotel room you enter. Your heart raced as Franco’s strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his sweat-slicked body. Beneath you, his hotel bed creaks as he has you once more in his bed. Each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, your breath hitching in your throat. His lips, soft and insistent, trailed along your jawline.

"Mmm, you feel incredible," he murmured a sensual purr that resonated. You can’t shake off the feeling of his embrace. There’s something more to it. There’s heat that builds between the two of you, something all-consuming. His fingers danced along your skin. You arched into his touch, craving more, always wanting more of him. Never have you been able to say no to his touch. Thinking a little bit, you compare this addiction to your husband’s.

Your hands, in turn, explored the hard planes of his chest, revelling in the way his arms flexed beneath your fingertips. His skin was hot. Rhythmic pounding of his heart alongside your own. It’s in time with the few grunts he lets out, enjoying the ecstasy of your cunt sucking him in. His eyes are half open, unfocused and completely lost in the feeling of you. You can feel it in the harsh thrusts, the chase in his hips and the grip of his hands.

"Fuck, that’s so good, baby" you breathed. He chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent shivers down your spine. The hands move from your hips and down to your thighs—pulling it up as it gives him a new angle to work with. The suddenness makes you let out a gasp, feeling his balls draw up to your ass with each deep thrust inside of you. It gets you shaking. You can feel heat spread inside of you, the wet slickness of your pussy makes adding to both of your arousal.

Words in his mouth turn foreign. It sounds like a curse. He moves slower, determined to get as deep as possible with the new position. You’re completely trapped under him. Franco pushes against your body, warmth radiating off of him. You couldn't deny it. You were loving every second of it, drowning in the sensation, the passion, the raw, unbridled lust that consumed you both. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, urging him closer, deeper. Nothing else mattered.

He takes his time with you. Letting the both of you enjoy the debauchery and infidelity. Franco groans, nearing his orgasm as he grinds deeper and deeper into you. The thrusts gain pace, getting greedy. Your own hand reaches down, matching the pace to your clit as you moan. It’s almost electrifying. He lets the pace return as his body taints yours, continuing to fuck you despite the positions the both of you are in. After a few more thrusts, he cums inside the condom and lets you finish your orgasm with a drawn-out moan.

Over and over again, you tell yourself that this will finally end. Franco pulls out, cleaning himself up before he turns to you. The kiss he places on your head is almost familiar. Almost. The little spark and the tightness of your heart remind you of older times. It’s heartbreaking. He tells you, “Come on, amor. Clean-up time. You always make me do the work.” He’s teasing. You can’t help but yearn for something more from his words.This isn’t the time to end it, you think. Franco is allowed to do anything with your body; fuck it, kiss it, clean it, worship it. You think that divorce papers are too much of a hassle, despite your husband having never thought of a prenup in the first place. When you get his money, you think of attending a Formula 1 race on your own accord. This time, you can answer Franco’s question—who are you here to support?

@delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @Tribbisweetdear @Jamie2305

FOOTNOTE ────── idk why but franco is def an older woman type of person. am I wrong?? am I hallucinatin?? anyways. HE'S BAAAAACK. I smell a mid season switch if I'm being honest <3 but ily jack doohan no matter what happens. it's just that.... dude, it's franco. I am hoping doohan does well tho.

[rom-e-o]

Imagine Emmrich getting sick or hurt enough he needs nursing for the first time after wifey is in his life.

Ohhh, yes. Emmrich. The always-giving, charitable healer. The eternal gentleman who has built a career on helping students learn, regularly uses his talents to help the dead find peace, risks life and limb to help Rook despite his fear of death, and BUILDS A BODY for a wisp who stays loyally by his side.

That Emmrich, who has pined for love and marriage but never found connection.

That Emmrich, who probably hasn't someone take care of him in decades. Who, if he got sick, always had to tend to himself, despite exhaustion and achiness. When was the last time you think he had someone at his side when he was sick? Probably his mother or father, when he was a young boy.

Maybe Manfred has helped sometimes, but of course, Emmrich doesn't ask much. Maybe for him to make some tea or wake him if someone knocks at the door, but that's not tending to him. But he can fudge it with a cold.

When he is bedbound will illness/injury for the first time since his relationship with Rook, feeling the caring presence of another at his beck and call is probably a little uncomfortable at first. ("D-Darling, I'll get you sick. P-Please don't worry. I-I'll be okay.") He says this while feverish and shaking, a cold sweat casting a sheen over his brow. Yet, he smiles. "Please, g-go enjoy the day, dearest."

He feels guilty of being a burden. He's a man who has always sought connection, and to over-compensate for his 'faults' (and even his age), he pushes himself hard. He likes to feel needed. He likes to GIVE.

So, to be in a position where he is forced to TAKE? He's hesitant. Maybe it makes him feel nostalgia in a horrible, raw way. He strikes me as a man that only feels worthwhile as a person if he's giving his energy (metaphorically or literally) to others. This feeling amplifies as he ages, and especially as he fails to find that love he yearns for so deeply.

Rook, his lovely wife, understands that. So she sets up a post. Manfred helps, of course. They make sure he's comfortable in bed. Plenty of books are placed nearby, even though he mostly sleeps. The window is opened, if the weather is nice-ish. Candles are lit. The fire roars. Plenty of tea is on tap. Even though he can't eat much, Rook brings porridge and potatoes to him.

She brushes his hair, dabs a cloth over his face, and draws him baths when he's strong enough to leave the bed.

"I-I'm sorry, dearest."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"F-For forcing you to care for me like this," he says as she brings a soapy cloth across his face, cleaning the latest sheen of fever-sweat from his brow.

He can't help but feel like an incompetent fool. He hates her seeing him in such a state. What if she sees him looking so weak and pathetic and decides to leave? It's not that he doesn't trust her. It's that his fear of somehow losing her or driving her away is one of the few things that can usurp logic in his mind.

"I don't recall you forcing me," she parries swiftly, lifting one of his toned arms to bring the cloth down the length of it. "In fact, you urged me to leave you and go enjoy my day. You encouraged me to leave with a handsome smile that was almost dashing enough to make me ignore that pesky blue pallor of yours."

He sighs wearily, still unable to look at her. "Even when I'm in such a sorry state, you still bestow those comforting compliments upon me."

"Because you deserve them." She undoes the top buttons of his nightgown and runs the cold cloth over his chest and neck. He sighs in relief, the cold feeling refreshing against his skin. "And you deserve to be cared for. Doted on. Now ... does that feel nice?"

He doesn't open his eyes immediately. Instead, he takes a moment to fill his lungs with air, the shakiness ebbing. Then, his gaze finds hers, hazel eyes blazing more brightly than they have in days. "It feels heavenly."

"Good." She leans down and kisses the tip of his nose. "Not too heavenly, though. I enjoy your company far too much to be without it for long. I'll start clawing the walls."

"Ha! W-Well, I shall endeavor to make a full recovery as swiftly as possible. How could I not, when I have such a sterling nurse?"

That night, Emmrich asks Rook to read to him. He loves the sound of her voice, and he so rarely has the chance to fall to sleep to it. She obliges, of course, reading him "Hard in Hightown", a fast-paced adventure by the infamous Varric Tethras. ("'You harassed a magistrate's widow. And you practically broke down a comte's door.' She turned to glare at him. 'All before dawn!'")  As she reads and acts out the lines with vigor, she hears him react according. He might gasp in shock, or laugh, or roll his eyes at a pun.

All the while, he uses her arm as a pillow, and gazes up at her, the very image of a besotted fool. A besotted fool with some color in his cheeks and a distinct glint returning to his lovely eyes.

[lee-laurent]

Home Away From Home -- Luke Hughes

Summary: Annika isn't gonna fall for the stupid hockey guy her parents are housing... right?

content: angst, implied smut but no explicit smut, some makeout scenes, fluff!!

wc: 8.9k

notes: i love this trope so here we are!! enjoy!!

Annika hadn't signed up for this.

She sat at the kitchen island, her arms crossed, watching her mom fuss over a plate of freshly baked cookies. George Thompson, her dad, was setting up the dining table with an enthusiasm that made her roll her eyes. The boys--twelve-year-old Alex and nine-year-old Flynn--were practically shaking with excitement.

"Do we really need cookies?" Annika asked, a touch of exasperation in her tone. "We're not adopting a puppy. He's just a guy. A hockey player, at that."

Andrea turned, a stern look on her face. "Annika, be polite. Luke is our guest. He's going to be a part of this family while he's here."

"Right," Annika muttered, "because this house isn't already crowded enough."

"Hey!" Alex piped up, shooting her a look of betrayal. "Luke Hughes is not just a guy. He's going to play for the Devils! He's super awesome!"

"Yeah!" Flynn added. "And he's way cooler than your boring boyfriend."

Annika groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "For the last time, Bryce and I broke up like three months ago."

"Probably cause he wasn't cool like a real NHL player!" Alex nodded.

Andrea shot the boys a warning glance but said nothing as she placed the plate of cookies at the centre of the table. "All I'm saying, Nick, is that this is a big adjustment for him too. He's young, he's new to Jersey, and he needs a supportive home environment. So please, try to make him feel welcome."

Nick refrained from commenting, though her skepticism must have been obvious, because her dad chuckled. "Come on, Nick. You might like the kid. Who knows?"

She doubted it. Sure, Luke Hughes was talented--she'd heard her brothers talk about him nonstop since her parents agreed to host him--but "some guy who skates for a living" didn't exactly sound like the type of perso she wanted to hang out with.

Still, when the doorbell rang, she couldn't help but feel a little curious.

~~

Luke hadn't expected to feel nervous.

But as he stood on the porch of the Thompsons' suburban house, duffle bag swung over one shoulder, his nerves hit him like a train. He rang the doorbell twice, the chime ringing out into the evening air.

The door swung open, and two kids stared up at him like he was a rockstar.

"Whoa," the older one--Alec or Alex, Luke couldn't remember--breathed. "You're really Luke Hughes."

Flynn just blinked, his jaw practically on the floor. "You're so tall," he finally said, wide-eyed.

Luke laughed awkwardly, glancing past the kids as an older man appeared in the doorway.

"You must be Luke," George said warmly, extending a hand. "Come on in, son. Welcome to our home."

"Thanks for having me," Luke said, stepping inside. The house smelled like cookies and furniture polish--cozy and warm, a sharp contrast to the hockey house he'd lived in the last two years.

The rest of the family came into view, and Luke felt the weight of their attention. A kind-looking woman who must've been Mrs. Thompson smiled warmly, and then his gaze landed on the girl standing behind her.

She was... unexpected.

Annika's arms were crossed, her expression unreadable. She didn't seem particularly thrilled to see him, though Luke couldn't tell if that was because of him or if she was just naturally unimpressed by life.

"This is Annika, our oldest," Andrea said, gesturing to her daughter.

Luke offered a hand. "Hi."

"Hey," Annika replied shortly, barely glancing at him before turning to her mom. "Can we eat now, or...?"

Luke's hand fell awkwardly to his side. Okay, then.

~~

Luke followed the Thompsons into the dining room, where the table was already set with a plate of cookies and some milk. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be welcoming or if they thought he was still ten years old, but the gesture was nice.

"Sit, sit!" Andrea said, waving him toward the table like he was royalty.

He slid into a chair, his bag at his feet. Across the table, the two boys continued to gape at him like he had two heads.

"Can I touch it?" Flynn blurted out, and Luke's eyebrows shot up.

"Your hockey stick," Alex clarified, giving his brother an exasperated shove.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Luke said, chuckling nervously. "I left it by the door. I can show you later."

"Awesome!" Flynn squealed.

Nick, leaning against the doorway with her arms still crossed, looked like she might die of secondhand embarrassment. Her blue eyes were narrowed in thinly veiled irritation.

"Boys, give him a minute to settle in," Andrea scolded softly. "Luke, you can call me Andrea, and that's my husband George." She gestured at her husband, who was helping himself to a cookie. "You've met the boys, Alex and Flynn."

"Yep," Luke said with a smile. "They're... enthusiastic."

"And Nick already introduced herself."

"Nick?" Luke tilted his head, confused.

Annika sighed as though she'd had to explain this a million times. "It's short for Annika. You know, like a nickname?"

"Oh. Got it."

Luke was quickly starting to realize that Annika wasn't the "warm and fuzzy" type.

"Nick's a student at Rutgers," George chimed in, as though sensing he needed to fill the silence. "She's studying communications. Smart kid, but she's a bit of a grump."

"Dad," Nick said sharply, though her cheeks flushed slightly pink.

"Don't mind her," George added with a conspiratorial grin. "She's just mad she doesn't have her bathroom all to herself anymore."

Nick shot Luke a look, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sharing a bathroom? Great. This was going to be... interesting.

~~

By the time Luke hauled his duffle bag up the stairs, he was ready to crash. The Thompsons were nice--mostly--but the whirlwind of introductions had left him drained.

"This is you," George opened a door at the end of the hall. The room was small but tidy, with a twin bed, a desk, and a window overlooking the backyard.

"Thanks," Luke said, dropping his bag onto the bed.

"Bathroom's just down there to the left," George added. "Sorry in advance if Nick complains about you using it. She's not used to sharing."

Luke nodded, unsure how to respond. George clapped him on the back and left, leaving him alone to unpack.

"Just so we're clear," Nick showed up in the doorway. "I don't care if you're some big hotshot hockey player. It's still my house, and if you leave your gross hockey gear lying around, I will throw it out."

Luke blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... noted?"

"Good," she said, her tone sharp enough to cut steel. She started to leave, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "And don't take forever in the bathroom. Some of us actually have places to be besides the hockey rink."

Before he could respond, she was gone, leaving Luke standing there with a pair of socks in his hands and the faintest trace of a smirk on his face.

She was definitely going to be a challenge.

~~

Nick woke up the next morning to the sound of running water and muffled thud from next door. Groaning, she rolled over and squinted at the clock on her nightstand. It was barely 6:30 a.m.

"Seriously?" she muttered, pushing the covers off.

Her first day sharing a bathroom with Luke was off to a fantastic start. Wrapping herself in her fluffy robe, she shuffled out of her room, only to nearly collide with Flynn, who was standing in the hallway, clutching his toothbrush.

"Is he still in there?" Nick asked, jerking her thumb toward the bathroom door.

"Yeah," Flynn said, his voice tinged with awe. "I think he's doing hockey stuff. Like stretches or whatever."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "In the bathroom?"

Flynn shrugged, and Nick let out an exasperated sigh. She banged on the door. "Hey, Hughes! Some of us need to use the bathroom too, you know!"

There was a brief pause before the door cracked open, revealing a very shirtless Luke. His hair was wet, beads of water clinging to his skin, and he held a towel loosely around his waist.

Nick froze.

"Uh... sorry?" Luke said, looking sheepish. "I didn't think anyone else would be up yet."

"Yeah, well," Nick snapped, forcing herself to look anywhere but at his chest, "you're not living in a bachelor pad, so maybe keep it moving."

"Right. Got it." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the sink to let her pass.

Nick brushed past him, her cheeks burning, and shut the door firmly behind her.

~~

When Nick made it to the kitchen, she was still fuming. Flynn and Alex were already seated at the table, shoveling cereal into their mouths like Luke sat across from them, wearing a hoodie and looking way too innocent.

"Morning," Andrea chirped, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Nick. "Sleep okay?"

"Would've been better if someone didn't turn the bathroom into his personal sauna," Nick muttered, shooting a pointed look at Luke.

To her annoyance, he just smirked. "I'll set an alarm for 6:29 next time. How's that?"

Alex snorted milk out of his nose, and Flynn started laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Luke's funny," Flynn declared, as though it was groundbreaking news.

"Luke's annoying," Nick corrected, stabbing her eggs with a little more force than necessary.

Andrea sighed. "Annika, be nice. Luke, honey, make sure Annika has time in the bathroom too."

"Yes ma'am," Luke grinned.

Nick glared at him, but his smile only grew.

~~

Nick had classes at Rutgers until late afternoon, which was usually her excuse to escape the chaos of her house. Today, though, chaos seemed determined to follow her.

She was sitting at her favourite coffee shop near campus, trying to focus on a group project, when her phone buzzed with a text from Alex.

Alex (12:34 PM): Guess what??? Luke said he'd come to my game on Saturday!!!

Nick rolled her eyes but responded anyway.

Nick (12:35 PM): wow! cool, bud. tell him to pack an extra helmet in case you miss a slapshot

Her phone buzzed again almost immediately.

Alex (12:36PM): u r not funny

Nick smirked, but her amusement was short-lived. A voice behind her said, "You look like you're plotting someone's downfall."

She turned to see Luke standing there, hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, looking slightly out of place in the sea of students.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, frowning.

"Your mom said you had the extra car... and I need a lift to the rink."

Nick blinked. "So you walked here? Just Google how to walk to the rink."

Luke shrugged. "Figured you'd just let me borrow the car."

She sighed, grabbing her laptop and shoving it into her bag. "Fine. Come on."

~~

That evening, after dinner, the boys dragged Luke into the living room for a mini hockey practice. Flynn wore a devishly determined look as he tried (and failed) to get the puck past Luke, while Alex gave commentary.

Nick watched from the sofa, trying not to smile. It was hard to keep her guard up when Luke was crouched on the floor, pretending to dramatically miss a save just to make Flynn cheer.

"He's good to them," Andrea whispered, sitting down beside her.

Nick blinked, startled. "Huh?"

"Luke," Andrea said, nodding towards the game of floor-hockey. Luke had ruffled Flynn's hair, earning a high-pitched giggle, and Alex was laughing so hard he had to clutch his side.

"Yeah, I guess," Nick admitted reluctantly. She wasn't ready to admit that Luke might've been slightly, a tiny bit okay-ish.

~~

She wasn't sure when she started noticing the little things about Luke.

Maybe it was the way he always made time to answer Alex and Flynn's endless questions about hockey. Or how he seemed genuinely interested in her every meal her mom made.

Or maybe it was that he wasn't as cocky and annoying as she'd originally thought.

Not that she'd admit it.

Saturday morning found Nick sitting in the bleachers at Alex's hockey game, sipping a lukewarm coffee and trying to focus on anything other than Luke, who was perched on the edge of the bench next to Flynn.

"Think he'll embarass himself?" Luke asked, lowly enough that only Annika could hear.

"Alex?" Nick smirked. "Absolutely. He lives for the drama."

Luke laughed, and Nick hated how much the sound didn't make her cringe. He was wearing a Devils cap pulled backwards over his messy curls, a plain hoodie, and an easy smile. It was almost... attractive.

The game started, and Alex threw himself into it with the subtlety of a wrecking ball. He wasn't the most skilled player on the ice, but his enthusiasm was unmatched.

"Go, Alex!" Flynn shouted, nearly toppling over the edge of the bench.

Nick found herself glancing at Luke occasionally, surprised by how invested he looked. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, watching Alex like it was Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

When Alex scored--a chaotic, scrappy goal that Nick was pretty sure only counted because the ref was feeling generous--Luke jumped up to his feet, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else.

"You act like it's the Olympics," Nick teased as he sat back down.

"What? That was awesome!" he said, still smiling like an idiot. "Kid's got guts."

Nick shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. She hadn't seen Alex light up like that in a long time.

The parking lot was full of parents chatting as they loaded their kids and gear into cars. Alex was still on cloud nine, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he recounted his goal for the tenth time.

"And then I deked left, and the goalie totally fell for it!" Alex said, demonstrating with exaggerated movements.

"More like you tripped into the puck," Nick teased, ruffling his hair.

Alex scowled. "You weren't even paying attention!"

"I was," Luke cut in, slinging an arm around Alex's shoulders. "And I think it was a sick goal."

Alex beamed up at him, and Nick had to admit--grudgingly--that Luke's support was doing wonders for her brothers' confidence.

"Thanks, Luke," Alex said. "Maybe you could help me practice my shot sometime?"

"Yeah, anytime, dude," Luke said without hesitation.

Nick's mom appeared then, holding Alex's bag. "Luke, seems like you're fitting in just fine around here."

Nick rolled her eyes but didn't comment.

~~

Back at the house, Alex and Flynn insisted on replaying the game on the living room floor, complete with mini-sticks, a foam ball, and way too much shouting.

Nick sat, pretending to read while Luke crouched on the floor, acting as a goalie.

"Careful," Luke warned, blocking one of Flynn's shots. "I don't want to break another lamp."

"That was Alex's fault!" Flynn protested.

"Was not!" Alex shouted, aiming another shot.

Nick couldn't help but laugh as the foam ball ricocheted off the wall and into Luke's chest.

"Game over," Luke declard, collapsing dramatically onto the floor.

The boys groaned, but Nick was grateful for the silence as they finally trudged upstairs, still arguing about whose shot was better.

Luke sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Your brothers are intense."

"They're obsessed with you," Nick said, closing her book. "It's kind of nauseating."

"Jealous?"

"Of what? The chaos? No, thanks."

He stood, stretching, and Nick's eye flicked to the hem of his shirt, which rode up just enough to reveal a sliver of toned abs. She quickly looked away, hoping her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"Good game today," she said, standing and heading toward the stairs before he could say anything else.

"Thanks," he called after her, and there was something in his voice that made her stomach flip.

~~

Nick paced back and forth in her room, her phone pressed to her ear as she tried to keep her voice down.

"I'm telling you, Mia," she whispered, "he's insufferable. Like, he doesn't do anything that bad, but the fact that he exists in my house is enough to drive me fucking insane."

On the other end of the line, Mia snorted. "Translation: You're fucking obsessed with him."

"What! No?" Nick flopped onto her bed, glaring at the ceiling. "I'm just... he's in my way. All the time. The bathroom thing? Unforgivable. And he's always around, charming my brothers and being all polite to my mom, and--it's annoying!"

"You're mad because he's polite?" Mia teased. "Wow, Nick, you're really reaching."

Nick groaned, throwing an arm over her face. "You don't get it. He's--ugh. He's just one of those guys, you know? All... awkwardly cute and unexpectedly funny and stupidly attractive--"

"Uh-huh," Mia interrupted, her voice laced with amusement. "Say that last part again?"

Nick sat up, her face heating. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"Sure you didn't."

"Mia," Nick hissed, her eyes darting toward the door. "I'm serious. He's just--fine, okay? I'll admit it. He's hot. Like ridiculously, stupidly hot. But that doesn't mean I don't hate his guts."

"Hate his guts? You sure you don't just want him to rearrange yours?"

Nick groaned. "I can't stand you?"

"And yet here you are, calling me for emotional support about your hot hockey housemate," Mia said smugly. "What a tragedy."

"He's just... objectively attractive. I can hate someone and still recognize that they're good-looking. Those two things can coexist."

"Sure, Nick," Mia giggled. "Whatever you say."

Nick groaned, burying her face in her pillows.

Flynn crouched in the hallway, his ear pressed to the crack under Nick's door. Beside him, Alex knelt, covering his mouth so he didn't giggle too loudly.

"Did she just say Luke is hot?" Flynn whispered, eyes wide.

"She totally did," Alex grinned.

Flynn giggled. "We have to tell him!"

"Duh," Alex said, scrambling to his feet.

The boys darted down the stairs, giggling like they'd just discovered the best secret in the world.

Luke was sitting in the living room, flipping through channels on the TV, when they skidded to a stop in front of him.

"Luke!"

"You're not gonna believe this!"

Luke quirked an eyebrow, setting the remote down. "What's up, guys?"

"Nick thinks you're hot!" Flynn blurted out, unable to contain himself.

Luke blinked, caught completely off guard. "What?"

"She said it on the phone," Alex explained. "She was talking to her friend, and she said you're 'ridiculously, stupidly hot.'"

Flynn nodded eagerly. "She also said you're annoying, but mostly that you're hot."

Luke huffed out a laugh, leaning back against the couch. "She actually said that?"

"Yup!" Flynn said proudly.

Luke shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Alright. Thanks for the intel."

The boys high-fived and ran off, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts.

Ridiculously, stupidly hot, huh?

He filed that tidbit away, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He didn't plan on using it right away--but when the right moment came, he'd be ready.

A few hours later, Nick came downstairs to grab a glass of water, grateful that the house was finally quiet. She froze when she saw Luke in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass in hand.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked casually.

"Nope," she said shortly, pouring herself some water.

As she turned to leave, she felt his eyes on her, and her steps faltered.

"What?" she snapped, glancing over her shoulder.

Luke shook his head, his expression unreadable. "Nothing. Just... interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"Nothing you'd want to admit," he said with a slight smirk, turning back to his drink.

Nick scowled, marching back upstairs, vowing to ignore whatever cryptic nonsense he was playing at. Behind her, Luke chuckled softly to himself, his smirk only growing.

~~

Annika was still determined to go about her life as if nothing had happened. Luke was still the irritating, too-hot-for-his-own-good hockey player who'd invaded her space. Nothing more.

But he wasn't making it easy.

It started small. Like how he suddenly seemed to be everywhere she was.

Case in point: the kitchen.

Nick had just finished a workout and was rummaging through the fridge for a bottle of water when Luke appeared, freshly showered and leaning against the kitchen island.

"Morning," he said, annoyingly chipper.

"Morning," she replied shortly, avoiding eye contact.

"Work out hard?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over her.

Nick's head snapped up. "What?"

"You're all flushed," he said innocently, taking a slow sip of his protein shake. "Maybe you overdid it."

Her cheeks heated further, and she hated that he'd noticed. "I'm fine," she said, grabbing her water and slamming the fridge shut.

Luke smirked, watching her retreat.

~

That weekend, Andrea sent Nick and Luke to pick up groceries. It was supposed to be a simple errand, but the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Nick fiddled with the AUX, flipping through songs until Luke reached over and stilled her hand.

"Pick something already," he said, his fingers brushing hers.

The touch was brief but electric, and Nick pulled her hand back like she'd been burned.

"What's your problem?" she snapped.

Luke shrugged, trying to conceal his amusement. "No problem. You just seem... jumpy."

"I'm not jumpy," she said through gritted teeth.

"Okay?"

Nick gripped the phone a little tighter, silently cursing him and the stupid butterflies in her stomach.

~~

That evening, the family decided to have a movie night. Nick reluctantly joined, sinking into the sofa and snatching the bowl of popcorn.

Luke sat beside her, closer than necessary, his knee brushing against hers as he man-spread.

She stiffened, but he didn't move.

"Comfortable?" she asked, shooting him a pointed look.

"Very," he said innocently.

Andrea shushed them, and Nick tried to focus on the film. But every time Luke shifted, she was hyper-aware of the warmth of his thigh against hers.

Halfway through, he reached for the popcorn, knocking her arm with his.

"Do you mind?" she hissed under her breath.

"Not at all."

Nick gritted her teeth, determined to ignore him. But when the movie ended and she stood to leave, he softly caught her wrist.

"Hey," he said, locking eyes with her. "Relax. I'm just messing with you."

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she couldn't look away.

"Whatever," she muttered, yanking her hand free and hurrying upstairs.

~~

Alex and Flynn barreled into the kitchen, sweaty and red-faced from playing street hockey.

"We crushed the neighbours!" Alex announced, dropping his stick and gloves on the floor.

Flynn followed suit, throwing himself onto one the barstools at the island. "Yeah, but Alex missed like ten open shots."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Guys," Nick interrupted. "Gear in the laundry room. Now."

The boys groaned but trudged off, muttering under their breath. A minute later, Luke strolled in, hair damp from a shower. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and hopped to sit on the counter, watching Nick with his lopsided grin.

"You run a tight ship," he teased.

"Someone has to when my parents aren't home."

Before Luke could respond, the boys returned, still arguing.

"Whatever," Alex said, rolling his eyes. "At least I'm not as bad as Bryce."

Nick scowled, her stomach sinking. "What does Bryce have to do with anything?"

"Nothing," Flynn said, grabbing a cookie off the counter. "Just saying Alex is better than him at hockey."

Luke's brow furrowed, gaze flickering between Annika and the boys. "Who's Bryce?"

"No one," Nick glared at Alex.

"Her boyfriend," he said, completely ignoring her. "Well, ex-boyfriend. He was like super into hockey but I think he sucked. Nick used to help him with his stats for school."

Nick shot him another warning look. "Shut up, Alex."

Flynn, too young to realize the tension in the room, chimed in, "He coached Alex's team last year, but he's not as cool as you, Luke."

Annika could feel Luke's eyes on her and turned away, busying herself with wiping an already-clean counter. "Bryce is like... history. Can we drop it now?"

The boys shrugged, losing interest as they rushed off to play Xbox.

Luke lingered, arms crossed, watching her closely. "So... Bryce?"

Nick sighed, turning to face him. "It's not a big deal. We dated for a while. It didn't work out. End of story."

Luke nodded slowly, though his expression shifted slightly. "Sounds like a real winner."

Nick narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing... nothing. Just that he doesn't sound like much competition."

"Competition for what?"

He shrugged. "Relax, Annika."

"You're fucking insufferable," she mumbled, pushing past him and heading for the stairs.

~~

Luke was still thinking about Bryce.

He told himself it didn't matter, that it was none of his business, but the image of some guy hanging around Nick, talking hockey and being such an important part of her brothers' games, made his chest feel tight.

Jealousy wasn't a good look on him, but there it was, simmering just under the surface.

He was sprawled on the couch when Nick came downstairs again, her arms full of laundry. She stopped when she saw him, a guarded look on her face.

"Still brooding about Bryce?"

Luke smirked, trying to mask his annoyance. "Why would I brood about some guy I've never met?"

"Good question."

Her tone was casual, but the way she avoided his gaze told him she was more affected by their earlier conversation than she cared to admit.

She shook her head, going to walk past him. But just like the other night, he grabbed her wrist. "For the record, I don't think he deserved you."

Nick just stared at him, blinking slowly.

"Goodnight, Nick."

And with that, he got up and walked away, leaving a very confused Annika in his wake.

~~

The rain started in the late afternoon, a light drizzle that quickly turned into a full-on downpour.

By the time Nick got home from class, her sneakers were soaked, and her hair was plastered to her face. She shoved the door open with a grunt, muttering curses under her breath.

"Rough day?"

She startled, looking up to see Luke in the living room, also soaking wet, with his bag slung over his shoulder. He must've just gotten back from practice.

"Rain fucking sucks," she said shortly, kicking off her shoes and peeling off her wet socks and jacket.

"Not a fan of Jersey weather?"

"Not when I have to walk through it because someone took the car," she snarled, brushing past him on her way to the kitchen.

He followed, watching as she rummaged through a cabinet for a snack. "Where's the rest of your family?"

"Out," she said, grabbing a box of crackers. "My mom took the boys to the movies, and my dad's working late. Why?"

"Just curious."

Nick turned to look at him, but before she could reply, a sudden crack of thunder made the house shake. The lights flickered once, twice, and then everything went dark.

"You've got to be kidding me," she groaned, fumbling for her phone.

"Relax," Luke said, his voice steady. "It's just a power outage."

"No big deal for you, maybe," she muttered. "I've got work to do."

"Yeah? What kind of work?"

"The kind that requires electricity."

"Well, unless you can magically fix the power grid, I'd say you're stuck."

Nick rolled her eyes, but she couldn't ignore the flutter in her chest at the way his voice sounded in the dark--low and teasing, but with an edge she couldn't quite place.

"Great. Guess I'll just sit here and wait for the apocalypse."

"Or," Luke said, his voice closer now, "you could stop being so dramatic and light some candles."

Nick scowled, but another loud crack of thunder made her jump.

Luke laughed. "Scared of storms?"

"Of course not," she snapped, though her hands were trembling slightly.

"Right."

Nick shook her head, retreating to her bedroom, hoping to escape the weird tension that always settled between them. She lit a few candles, their warm glow casting flickering shadows on the walls, and tried to focus on her textbook.

But her thoughts kept drifting--to the storm, to the empty house, and to Luke.

She didn't even hear him knock.

"Hey," he said. "Mind if I hang out in here? It's kind of creepy downstairs."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "You're a professional hockey player, and you're scared of the dark?"

"Not scared. Just bored."

She sighed, gesturing for him to come in. He shut the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the small space.

For a while, they sat in silence, the sound of rain pounding against the windows filling the room.

"You're quiet," Luke said eventually.

"So are you."

He glanced at her, his eyes catching the candlelight in a way that made her stomach flip. "You've been weird around me lately."

"I'm always weird around you."

"Not like this," he whispered.

Her heart started thudding against her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Nick."

She froze at the way he said her name--soft, almost pleading. When she finally looked at him, the intensity his gaze made her breath catch.

"Are we just gonna keep pretending this thing between us doesn't exist?"

"What thing?"

Luke huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "You're really gonna make me say it?"

She didn't answer, and in the silence that followed, he got closer.

The air between them crackled, the storm outside quiet in comparison to the sound of her heart.

"I think about you... way more than I should."

Her breath hitched at his words, and he leaned in, his hand brushing hers.

"Nick," he whispered, his lips hovering just inches from hers. "Tell me to stop."

But she didn't.

Instead, she closed the distance, her mouth crashing against his in a messy kiss of spit and teeth.

His hands quickly found her waist, pulling her until they tumbled onto the bed. Hers found the curls at the nape of his neck. And outside, the storm faded into nothing.

~~

The storm had become nothing but a soft patter of rain against the windows. Nick lay across her bed, Luke's arm draped lazily across her waist as they caught their breath.

The room was warm and still dark, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over their bodies. Nick could feel the steady rise and fall of Luke's chest against her back, his skin sticky but still comforting against hers.

"You're sweaty," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillows.

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "So are you."

She wrinkled her nose but didn't move, too content--and too tired--to care.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of what had just happened settling over them. It wasn't awkward, though. If anything, it felt... right.

Luke broke the silence. "You know, the candles really set the mood."

Nick snorted, turning her head to look at him. "Oh, totally. Very romantic."

"You don't think so?"

She rolled her eyes, biting her bottom lip. "Honestly? It might've been the most romantic sex I've ever had."

"High praise."

"Don't let it go to your head."

They fell quiet again, Nick tracing lazy circles on Luke's arm as his fingers skimmed along her hip.

"Can I tell you something?" Luke said suddenly.

"Sure."

"Your brothers... they told me."

"Told you what?"

"That you think I'm hot."

"They what?!"

"Yeah," Luke smirked, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Apparently, you were on the phone with your friend, and they overheard you saying I'm 'ridiculously, stupidly hot.'"

Nick stuffed her face in the pillows, groaning. "Oh my God. I'm gonna fucking kill them!"

"I mean," Luke continued, "I wasn't going to say anything, but now that we're here."

"Shut up."

He laughed, gently tugging her out of the pillows. "Hey, I'm flattered. Really."

"Don't be," she said, though the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.

Luke leaned in, his lips brushing against her temple. "For the record, I think you're ridiculously, stupidly hot too. Still wanna kill your brothers?"

"Absolutely," she said, but her voice was lighter now, her cheeks still pink.

Although killing her brothers didn't really matter when she was laying in bed with Luke.

~~

Nick had no idea the thrill that sneaking around would give her.

There was something almost intoxicating about the stolen moments--the way Luke's touch would linger as he walked past her, the charged glances across the room, the whispered goodnights as they traded the bathroom.

It was dangerous and utterly addictive.

She hated how much she liked it.

Family dinners at the Thompsons were always chaotic (as were most things in their house). Andrea was bustling between the kitchen and the dining room, carrying plates of steaming food, while George tried to wrangle Alex and Flynn into their seats.

Luke sat across from Nick, his expression perfectly innocent as he buttered a piece of bread.

Nick didn't trust him for a second.

The meal started without incident--Andrea asking Luke about practice and an upcoming roadie, Flynn babbling about a school project, Alex loudly debating which NHL team had the best defence. Nick tried to focus on her food, keeping her gaze firmly away from the boy across the table.

Until she felt it.

A soft nudge against her ankle.

She froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, and glanced up. Luke's eyes were on his plate, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Nick shifted her leg, but the nudge came again--this time more deliberate, slowly moving up her calf.

Her eyes narrowed.

Subtly, she kicked back.

Luke's smirk widened, but he didn't react otherwise, his foot pressing against hers in a way that made her stomach flip.

"Nick," Andrea said, snapping her out of the moment. "Pass the salad, please."

Annika blinked, her face burning as she shoved the salad bowl across the table.

"You okay?" her mom raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," Nick said quickly, glaring at Luke.

He looked up then, his smirk replaced with an innocent smile. "Everything alright, Nick?"

She wanted to throttle him.

Instead, she dropped her napkin on the floor, ducking under the table.

"What're you doing?" Alex asked as she crouched, fumbling for the napkin.

"Nothing," she muttered.

She grabbed the napkin--and Luke's ankle.

He jerked slightly, his leg pulling away, but she squeezed just hard enough to make her point before sitting back up.

"You sure everything's okay?" Andrea asked, her tone tinged with suspicion.

Nick forced a smile, her heart pounding. "Just peachy."

Across the table, Luke's smirk was back, but this time it was tinged with something darker--something that made Nick's breath catch in her throat.

~~

Later that evening, they weren't so lucky.

Andrea had sent the boys upstairs to clean their shared room while she and George tidied up the kitchen. Nick, seizing the opportunity, had slipped into Luke's room under the pretense of "helping him settle." As if he hadn't lived there for weeks.

Luke was waiting for her, his grin smug as he pulled her inside and shut the door.

"You're getting reckless," he teased, his hands sliding around her waist.

"You're the one who started it... and keeps tempting me," she shot back, her voice breathless as he backed her against the closet door.

"Is that so?"

Her lips found hers, and for a moment, she forgot all her worries--her parents, the risk, the fact that her brothers were just down the hall.

Until the footsteps started.

"Luke!"

Nick froze as Flynn's voice rang out.

"Shit," she whispered, shoving Luke back.

He stumbled slightly, but didn't stop smiling. "Relax."

The door burst open a second later, Flynn standing there with hockey stick in hand.

"There you are!" he exclaimed. "Alex and I want you too referee!"

Luke cleared his throat, stepping back even further from Nick. "Uh, yeah, for sure. Be right there."

Flynn squinted at his big sister. "What are you doing in here?"

"Helping him find something," she lied, her face burning.

Flynn shrugged. "Okay, whatever." He turned and darted back down the hall, yelling for Alex."

Nick let out a shaky breath, her head dropping back against the closet.

"That was close."

Luke chuckled, stepping closer again. "Too close?"

"Yes," she hissed, swatting his arm as he leaned in.

"You love it," he teased, his lips brushing her ear before pulling back. "I'll see you later."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Nick to realize that she did, in fact, love it.

~~

The bathroom was filled with steam, despite the fan being on. The warm spray of the shower drowned out the storm that had started outside.

Nick leaned back against the cool tiled wall, her skin slick with water, as Luke pressed a line of soft kisses along her collarbone.

"This is so stupid," she mumbled, her hands sliding over his shoulders.

"Probably," he agreed, smirking as he pulled back to look at her. "But when have we ever done anything smart?"

"If we get caught--"

"We won't," he promised, pushing his lips against hers.

The sound of a knock at the bathroom door had them both pulling away.

"Luke?" Andrea's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Oh my God," Nick mouthed, her heart hammering inside her chest.

Luke held a hand up, silently telling her to stay silent, before clearing his throat. "Uh--yeah?"

"Have you seen Annika?" Andrea asked. "I thought she might be in her room, but she's not."

Luke shot Nick a panicked look, and she mimed strangling him, her lips forming "fix this."

"Uh, no," Luke said, scrambling for an excuse. "I think she said something about--uh--going for a walk?"

"A walk? In this weather?"

Luke winced, cursing himself for the lame excuse. "Yeah, she, uh...said she likes the rain. Said it's like refreshing or something?"

Nick buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

There was a long pause on the other side of the door, and Luke could practically feel Andrea's doubt seeping through the wood.

"Well, alright," she said finally, though her tone was still dubious. "Let me know if you see her, okay?"

"Will do," he said, waiting until he heard her footsteps retreating before turning to Nick.

She was doubled over with laughter now, her hands braced against the wall. "Refreshing?" she wheezed, still whispering. "That's the best you could come up with?"

Luke scowled. "You're welcome."

Nick pressed her chest against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Guess I should be grateful," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. "You're quick on your feet when panicking."

"Yeah, well," his hands settled on her waist, "let's just hope your mom doesn't start asking more questions."

Nick smirked, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Guess we'll have to be more careful, huh?"

"Guess so."

~~

They'd barely recovered from their bathroom incident, but Luke seemed determined to push their luck even further.

They were standing in the kitchen, the rest of the family scattered--Andrea folding laundry upstairs, George in his office, and the boys glued to a hockey game on the TV.

Nick was just trying to make herself some tea, trying to ignore Luke's presence at the counter, when she felt him move closer.

"Relax," he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in his chin on her shoulder. "Nobody's around."

"Ugh, you're insane."

"Probably," he said.

"Luke, not here," she tried to escape his grasp, but his hockey training must've been paying off because he wouldn't budge.

"Why not?"

"Because we almost got caught earlier. You're pushing our luck. If someone walked i--"

Her words her cut off as he spun her around, her lips ghosting his. She crumbled instantly, her fingers gripping the counter as she kissed him back.

"Annika!"

"Fuck me," she groaned, jerking back so quickly she almost knocked the kettle over.

"Later," Luke retorted, earning a glare.

"What?" she called back.

"I need some help up here! Can you make your brothers' beds?"

"Uh--yeah! I'll be right there, Mom!" She pressed her palms against Luke's chest. "You're a bad influence."

He shrugged, moving to let her escape upstairs with her tea in hand, but not without giving her ass one last squeeze.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

~~

Luke seemed determined to finish what they started in the shower, because he'd managed to be in the laundry room just as she was heading there to grab her mom a blanket.

"Are you fucking tracking me?"

"Just lucky timing."

"You're going to be the reason we get caught."

"Only if you scream," he teased, boosting her on top of the washing machine.

"Luke..."

"Relax," he pressed a kiss to her neck.

She really wanted to believe that they'd be in the clear down in the basement, but apparently her parents really wanted that spare blanket.

"Let's go, Nick! Chop, chop!" George shouted from the top of the stairs.

"Coming! Coming!"

"God, why is it so hard to get you alone?" Luke groaned.

"Welcome to my life."

~~

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Nick knew their little game of sneaking around was risky, but she hadn't pushed it to stop. She blamed Luke entirely--his stupid smirk, his stupid face, the way he couldn't seem to ever keep his hands to himself.

But when the door to her bedroom flew open late one afternoon, she swore she had a heart attack.

"Annika!"

Her mom's voice was sharp, the shock in her tone unmistakable as she stood frozen in the doorway.

Nick and Luke jerked apart like they'd been electrocuted, the tangled sheets doing little to hide the situation.

"Mom!" Nick shrieked, her face going bright red as she scrambled to grab the blanket.

Andrea's eyes darted between them, her face covered in disbelief and mortification. "Luke?"

Luke, to his credit, managed a sheepish smile he sat up, adjusting his shirt and ruffling a hand through his hair. "Uh...hi, Andrea."

She blinked, her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to form words but she couldn't process what she was seeing.

"I--I'm gonna go see your father," she shook her head, backing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Nick groaned, burying her face in her hands. "We're so fucking dead."

Luke flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "I told you to lock the door."

"Luke!"

"Yeah, this is... not ideal."

~~

The tension in the living room was palpable as Nick and Luke sat on the sofa, side by side, waiting for her parents to join them. The rest of the house was quiet for once--Alex and Flynn had been banished upstairs with strict instructions not to come down.

Andrea and George finally appeared, their expressions grim as they sat down across from the couple.

"Well," George began, clearing his throat. "This is, uh... unexpected."

Nick wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

Andrea crossed her arms, her gaze sharp as it landed on Luke. "I think we need to have a very serious conversation about boundaries."

Luke nodded quickly, the confidence he'd felt the last few days nowhere to be found. "Of course. Absolutely."

She turned to Nick, her tone just as firm. "Annika, you're an adult, and I understand that you're going to make your own decisions, but this is our home. And there are certain... expectations."

Nick groaned, slouching further into the couch. "Mom--"

"No," Andrea interrupted. "This is important. You're under our roof, and we expect you to be respectful of that."

George cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable. "What your mother is trying to say is, uh, we don't want anything... inappropriate happening here."

Nick buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. "Can we not do this right now?"

"We absolutely need to do this right now," Andrea said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

She turned back to Luke. "We welcomed you into our home, Luke, and we expect you to behave like a gentleman. This... this cannot happen again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Luke said quickly, nodding so fervently it was a wonder his head didn't fall off.

"And that goes for you too, Annika," Andrea added, fixing her with a pointed look.

"I get it," she muttered, her face still hidden.

"Good," Andrea said, standing. "Because if I find you two in a... situation again, you're both going to regret it."

George stood as well, patting Luke awkwardly on the shoulder. "Just, uh, keep things... above board, okay?"

"Got it."

The parents left, leaving Nick and Luke in stunned silence.

After a long pause, Nick finally spoke, her voice still muffled by her hands. "I'm never leaving his house again."

"I don't know. I think that went pretty well," Luke let out a breathless laugh.

Nick finally dropped her hands to glare at him. "Pretty well? Are you kidding me?"

"Hey, at least your dad didn't kill me... or cut off my balls."

"You-- UGH!"

"If you say so."

~~

The shift in the house was obvious.

Andrea seemed to materialize whenever Luke and Annika were in the same room, her watchful gaze making Nick's skin crawl. George was less obvious but still lingered nearby, pretending to fiddle with the thermostat or check a sports score while clearly keeping tabs on them.

Even Alex and Flynn had picked up that something was wrong, their usual teasing replaced with curious glances and hushed whispering.

"Your mom's fucking scary," Luke said one evening, his voice low as he passed Nick in the hallway.

"You're telling me," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure nobody was around.

Luke smirked, leaning closer. "So... does this mean we're done?"

Nick frowned. "Done with what?"

"This," he gestured between them.

She hesitated, gnawing at her bottom lip. "I don't know. Do you really think it's worth getting caught again?"

Luke leaned against the wall, his grin softening into something more sincere. "Yeah. I do."

"You--"

"I'm insane, I know But I'm not ready to let this go. Are you?"

Her walls crumbled as he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers.

"Fine," she whispered. "But you have to keep it under wraps. I'm not dealing with my mom's wrath again."

"Deal."

~~

Keeping things under wraps was easier said than done.

Every interaction felt like a minefield, with Andrea constantly dissecting their every move.

Luke made it harder by being... well, Luke.

He would brush against her as he passed by. He'd lean in close to whisper something that wasn't remotely necessary.

It was maddening.

One night after dinner, they were in the kitchen, Nick washing dishes while Luke dried. Andrea was sitting at the table, her back to them, flipping through a magazine.

Luke bumped her hip with his, his voice low. "You're tense."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"She's not even looking," he grinned, reaching for a plate.

"She doesn't have to look. She knows everything."

"You're paranoid."

~~

Sitting in the backyard under the stars, finally having time together. Their hands were intertwined as they stared up at the sky.

"Is it really worth all the trouble?" Nick whispered.

"Of course it is," he replied, swinging their hands.

"Why?"

"Because I like you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Nick didn't respond, but the smile on her face told him all he needed to know.

~~

A quiet afternoon in the Thompson house was hard to come by. The boys were upstairs playing video games, Andrea and George watching a show in their room.

Nick and Luke were taking advantage, lounging on the sofa and watching a movie.

Well, trying to watch a movie.

Luke kept nudging her with his knee, a silent plea for attention that she ignored for as long as she could.

"What?" she paused the movie, turning to look at him.

"Nothing. Just... thinking."

"Dangerous," she teased, though her stomach fluttered at the way he was looking at her--soft yet serious.

"Nick," he said, his voice lower. "I've been thinking about this for a while now."

"Okay..."

"I want to make this official," he said, his hand finding hers. "I know we've been sneaking around and keeping things quiet, but I... really, really like you. And I want to do this for real."

"You're asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah... I guess I am."

Nick hesitated. She knew this was risky, that saying yes meant inviting even more complications into their already chaotic situation.

But as she looked at him--his goofy grin, the way his thumb brushed over her knuckles--she knew she couldn't say no.

"Okay. Let's do it."

Luke's grin grew, and before she could second-guess herself, he leaned in and kissed her.

"Ew!"

They sprang apart, Flynn stood in the doorway, his face scrunched in disgust.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at them.

Nick scrambled to her feet. "Flynn! Don't you knock?"

"This is the living room!" he retorted. "You can't kiss here!"

Luke cleared his throat, standing up and running a hand through his hair. "Uh, maybe we keep this between us, bud?"

"Why?"

Nick groaned. "Flynn--"

But he was already running toward the kitchen, yelling at the top of his lungs.

It didn't take long for Alex to join the chaos, and before Nick and Luke could figure out what to do, both boys were standing in front of their parents, firing off questions.

"If Luke and Annika get married, does that mean he gets to live here forever?" Flynn asked, his face alight with excitement.

"Wait, does this mean Luke is our brother now?" Alex added, his brow furrowed.

"Do you think Luke will take us to games since he's Annika's boyfriend?"

Andrea's eye widened, snapping to Nick and Luke, who were standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Annika," she said slowly, her tone suspiciously calm, "is there something you'd like to tell us?"

Nick opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She glanced at Luke, silently begging him to say anything, but he looked just as panicked.

"Well?"

Nick swallowed harshly. "It's not what it looks like--"

"It's exactly what it looks like," Flynn interrupted. "They were kissing on the couch!"

"Flynn!" Nick hissed.

Andrea sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as George rubbed the back of his neck.

"Annika," Andrea said firmly, "we talked about boundaries."

"I know! And we only kissed! We've been careful!"

"Careful? You were kissing in the living room!"

Flynn leaned over to Alex, whispering loudly. "Do you think they kiss a lot?"

Luke coughed, trying to stifle a laugh, but one sharp look from Andrea wiped the grin from his face.

"This isn't funny. We'll be having a conversation about this later."

"Great!" Nick threw her hands up.

~~

There they were, sat on the couch... again. Two angry parents in front of them like they'd just gotten in trouble for something stupid.

"Alright," Andrea said. "Start talking."

Nick glanced at Luke, who gave her a small, reassuring squeeze of the hand before she cleared her throat. "Look, I know this isn't ideal, but... Luke and I really like each other."

"Really like each other?"

Nick nodded, her voice steadier now. "Yes, and we've been trying to keep it low-key because we didn't want to make things weird for everyone else."

Andrea snorted. "Well, that worked out great."

"I know it's a lot to ask," Luke said, leaning forward. "But I care about Nick. A lot. And I don't want to mess up the trust you've shown me by letting me stay here, and I don't want to make things uncomfortable for your family. But I also don't want to pretend I don't... like Nick."

Her gaze softened slightly, though her expression remained guarded. She looked at George, who shrugged.

"They're adults," he said simply. "I'm not thrilled about it, but it's not like we can tell Nick who she can and can't date."

Andrea sighed, hands on her hips. "I guess that's true. But if this is going to continue, there are going to be rules."

Nick and Luke exchanged a quick glance, relief washing over them.

"Rules?" Nick asked cautiously.

"Yes, rules. First, no sleeping in each other's rooms. Doesn't matter if you're both adults, it's my house, that's my rule."

"Understood," Luke nodded.

"Second," she continued, "keep the PDA to a minimum. Especially in front of the boys. I don't need Alex and Flynn asking any more awkward questions."

"Agreed."

"Third...if I catch you breaking these rules, this arrangement is over. Got it?"

"Got it," they said in unison.

"Alright. As long as you respect the rules, I won't stand in your way."

"Thank you," Luke said sincerely.

"Don't screw this up, kid," George whispered to him as he left.

"I won't."

~~

A few months later, the whole Thompson family was packed into The Rock, cheering as the Devils faced off against the Pens.

Alex and Flynn were decked out in jerseys, cheering as loud as they could, while Andrea and George clapped politely whenever Luke's name was mentioned.

Nick sat by her brothers, trying (and failing) to hide her smile every time Luke skated by.

When he scored late in the first period, Flynn jumped out of his seat, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"THAT'S MY SISTER'S BOYFRIEND!"

Nick groaned, pulling her Hughes jersey over her red face as the people around them laughed.

But when Luke glanced at their section, his grin wide as he pointed toward her, she couldn't help but cheer just as loudly.

Because, for better or for worse, Luke was a large part of her life now. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

[actuallysaiyan]

Just Need A Little Lovin'(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral sex(Fem receiving), lewd themes, some fluff, young age!Toshinori, Dave mention word count: 1.2k pairings: Young age!All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader summary: it's a slow progression when you and Toshi begin dating, but once you introduce him to sex, he becomes obsessed with eating pussy.

dividers: @adornedwithlight.

taglist: @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @thestarsystemsworld @pixelcafe-network.

When you started dating Toshinori, things were a little slow. He was so soft and so sweet. You taught him how to speak English, and he taught you how to speak Japanese. Dave thought the two of you were so adorable. He would never get tired of teasing the two of you all the time.

Things progressed slowly. It was a lot of trial and error and just getting to know each other. You two didn’t do anything intimate until months later. And after you two began to explore each other’s bodies, this is when Toshinori realized he was very obsessed with pussy.

Just the thought of your little pussy made him so hard. Whenever you weren’t around, he would find the panties he stole from you and he would jerk off. The bed would creak from his violent movements as he stroked his thick cock. The pink tip leaking so much precum, lubricating his hand. He tried to mimic what it felt like to fuck you, but it was just never enough.

You had joked that you created a monster, but really it was all to your benefit. You loved the fact that this big man was obsessed with you. He showered you in affection and sweetness along with all the mind blowing sex you two had.

One of Toshinori’s favorite things to do with you was to eat you out. Nothing better to him than to lick, suck and kiss that cute little cunt and have you shaking beneath him. A lot of the time, he enjoyed pulling you onto his face and having you ride his tongue.

Tonight, he’s feeling very needy. It’s been a little while since you two were able to have some alone time. So he’s sitting in your apartment, waiting like the good boy he is. When you walk through the door, he’s all over you within the instant.

“Missed you so much.” The big man wraps his arms around you, kissing you all over your face.

“Awh, I missed you too.” You say sweetly, kissing him back.

Toshi easily towers over you. But he’s so damn careful with his strength. He’d feel terrible if he ever truly hurt you. His hands are grabbing at you, pulling you closer. You can feel the boner in his tight jeans. You giggle softly, and the sound just makes his cock twitch.

“Needy, baby?” You ask him, looking into his eyes.

His eyes are dark with lust. “Missed you a lot, baby. My hand doesn’t feel as good as you.”

Those words alone make need pool deep inside of you. You swallow hard as you try to come to terms with just how horny Toshinori is. He gets down on his hands and knees, nuzzling his face between your thighs. No other man you’ve ever met has been this obsessed with giving oral sex.

“Can I please, please lick your pussy?”

You swallow hard again, and you nod. He shakes his head, whimpering softly as he continues to press his nose between your thighs. He takes long, greedy inhales of your scent through your pants.

“Please, tell me you want it too.” He practically begs.

You moan. “I want it. I want it so badly, Toshi.”

You gently tug on his soft hair, earning a loud moan from the big man on his knees in front of you. He pulls down your pants and panties swiftly, tossing them behind him. It takes seconds for him to dive in and begin devouring you.

His tongue is so warm, and so soft. He pulls your little bud between his lips, suckling on it like it’s his favorite candy. Just the look of him on his knees like this, face already wet with your juices and his own drool, has your knees buckling. Toshinori smirks before he pins you to the wall and allows you to rest your legs on his shoulders for support.

“Fuck,” you pant. “That’s my good boy. Such a good boy for me.”

His cock strains in his tight jeans. He lets out another whimpering noise before he’s shoving his face back between your thighs. Toshinori eagerly slurps up all your juices, making you shudder. Your fingers stay tangled in his hair and when you begin to hump his face for more pleasure, he doubles down on his efforts.

His tongue swirls around your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. Toshinori looks up at you with your clit between his lips and you shake. The sight alone could send you over the edge. He then begins to press kiss after kiss to it, making it twitch with need.

“Toshi,” you whine his name so sweetly. “Toshi, your fingers…”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. You watch through hooded eyes as he sucks on two of his massive fingers, wetting them sufficiently. Then you cry out as he pumps them both into you, returning to his assault on your swollen little nub.

“Love tasting you,” he whines as he begins to pump his fingers. “Love making you cum.”

You’re not even able to form words, much less coherent thoughts. Here was this giant man on his knees for you, feasting at your cunt like it was the thing that would give him lifeforce. You barely notice when he pulls his cock out and begins to jerk off with his free hand.

Toshinori holds you up against the wall with just his sheer strength alone. You keep tugging on his hair as you hump yourself against his mouth and his fingers. You gasp when his fingers curl against that sweet spot of yours. You’re so close now, you don’t know if you can properly warn him.

It builds so fast, it leaves you blindsided. Waves of pure, blissful pleasure wrack through your body. The soft pants and whimpers that come from your lips make his cock twitch with need. Toshinori diligently pulls all the pleasure from you, moving his fingers within you to prolong every second of pleasure.

He presses one more kiss to your clit before he’s pulling away from you. Then you gasp when he pushes you against the wall, thrusting into you to be balls deep inside of you. You cling to him; your walls are still fluttering from the intense orgasm.

“S-sorry, just needed to fuck…needed to fuck so badly,” he whispers as he begins to pound himself into you.

The sound of wet skin slapping together fills the room obscenely. He’s pounding himself into you quickly and wantonly. His mouth attacks your neck, leaving hickies and marks on your skin. You tug on his hair again, pulling him in for a very sloppy kiss.

Your legs are shaking as you're headed towards another blissful orgasm. This time, you moan his name when you reach your peak. The pulsing of your walls pulls him over the edge as well, and he whimpers as he pumps you full of his cum. 

Toshinori leans his forehead against yours as he comes down from his high. You eagerly breathe in his soft pants as you two share soft little kisses. You’ve never been more in love with someone before.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he says sheepishly. “You need to stop staying away for so long.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2025– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[kouzih]

Freak.

Nam-gyu ( Player 124 ) x gn!reader .ᐟ

warnings: insulting words , spitting/saliva

tags,, @gongyoosgf @bbyjjunie @seonghwasslytherin

(hahaha ..this took longer than i thought.. hope you guys will enjoy it tho)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ You were intrigued by the slow crowd of people that started to gather around, and you noticed that they were all coming holding something for you guys to eat in hands. You weren't hungry and it didn't really interest you. But you were getting thirsty, and you could use them for later. You got off your bed and slowly started to walk towards them, looking around as you fumbled with your hands. You voted for "O" at voting time, so people with the same sign on them got more of your attention.

Most people were already seated and starting to eat, some were still waiting in line, and when you turned your head a little more to the side, your eyes fell on the two people already watching you. Realizing this, your movement slowed down and you started to stand next to the line. Your eyes went to their numbers without realizing it, you read them under your breath. "230 and..124?" You couldn't see the other person's number properly, his position didn't allow it. Still, they both looked familiar. The one with dyed hair was chattering about wanting everyone to be on his team before, the person who pressed the button after looking at the other team was the same person sitting next to him. You were thankful you weren't with them during the vote, because they were seriously a pain in the neck.

The other player you mentioned was looking at you with his face raised, you waved back out of habit, they must not have bad intentions.. you thought. You turn your head and are about to get in line when you notice one of them waving back at you lazily. A small giggle leaves you as you step into line.

Coming back with your hands full, you change your mind and walk down the metal stairs before climbing into your bed. When you reach their bed you notice them talking to each other, it takes a few seconds for them to realize you've arrived. "I saw you waving back at me," you mumble, turning your head to the long-haired man. "Oh- yeah I did." He answers briefly. As you open your mouth to speak again, his friend standing next to him interrupts. "But you were the first one to wave at my bro, so what?" Your expression changes momentarily and you answer quietly, letting out a shaky breath. "Well, I know-" "Then what is it?" He was really impatient. He didn't even let you finish your sentence.

"I know." A sound of surprise escaped your lips as you focused on where the sound was coming from. "You want to be with us, right?" "Why didn't you say so!" The purple haired boy nearly shouted, standing up to grab one of your hands and smiling. You hadn't even noticed the other man walk up behind you, your body flinched when you felt his hair fall over your shoulder.

As he took the items in your hands, he realized that you hadn't even opened them yet. "What's this? You're giving us your food?" "Seriously?" "Yeah bro, they didn't even touch them." The purple-haired man looks at his friend's hands, turning his attention away from you. "Sweeeet!" Shaking your hand he talked again. "That's what we're talking about bro!" With a nervous chuckle, you tried to pull your hands away from him, completely forgetting about the man standing behind you as you took a step back. You squeaked as you bumped into his chest. "Wow, wow- calm down." Your eyes involuntarily drifted towards his hands and you started reaching for your drink.

"Can I have it back?" He doesn't give you an answer as he opens the box with one hand. His other hand is on its way to the bed behind him, putting the other box down. He takes a few sips from his milk carton, ignoring you. "Not fair broo, share." That was.. awkward. After their yapping you went back to bed, crawling in it. As you were muttering something under your breath, a voice suddenly made you jump.

"What'd you say?" You sit up to see where the sound was coming from, your vision wasn't very clear 'cause of the lights being off as you blinked. You make an eye contact with a figure at the end of the bed, his face resting on his arms, his eyes narrowed. You spoke slowly, keeping your voice low. "Why are you here?" As the smile on his face slowly fades, he stands up. "You're not fun, can't I fucking come and have a chat with my teammate?"

"You're creepy." You said it so fast you didn’t even realize it came out of your mouth. After a short silence, he gets into bed and starts climbing towards you. "Fucking whore." He hissed under his breath, causing you to change your position so he can't reach you that easily. He stops right in front of you, one hand moving up to your chin, forcing you to look at him. "You have a mouth and you dare to use it on me, huh?" His grip tightened. His knees were touching your feet under the sheets, almost crushing them. He had a smile on his face that made you feel disgusted. His legs pressing into your thighs, holding you in place. It was obvious from the way he spoke that he was pissed, He hissed at you once more, closer to your face. "Answer me, you fucking-" He was talking in such a way that his saliva was coming to your face.

You narrowed one of your eyes and reflexively wiped the wetness off your face. "What am I supposed to say? Don't you think it's normal for me to be startled by someone talking out of nowhere?" Your voice was low, muffled by his grip. The expression on his face didn't change for a while, your eyes following him, realizing he was going to make a sudden move. When he takes his hand off your chin and you're about to bow your head, he suddenly grabs your chin again, even harder now. "Oh, did my saliva disgust you?" He says, in a way no different than the way he spoke before. "When I ask you a question, you can't speak..but you dare to wipe your face? .. Pathetic."

The pressure on his legs was increasing more, he didn’t let go of his grip, pulling your head down a little more. "You better get used to it, soon your whole face will be covered in nothing but my fucking saliva." His grip loosened, his fingers trailing down to your neck, the cold ring almost scratching your throat as you breathed heavily with your mouth open. His fingers move towards the back of your head, towards your hair, and wrap the strands of hair between his fingers.

"You didn't get a chance to drink anything, did you? Aww, poor baby, you must be thirsty." It was so obvious that he was mocking you and that he was enjoying it. Your mumbles were inaudible due to his tightness, he could only hear a few whispers you made for him to let go. "Now, now, don't you fucking dare to kick." He relieved the pressure on her leg, almost making it seem like he was sitting on your lap.

The smile on his face does not fall as his free hand grasps his lips, licking his teeth with his tongue. "Open up." You refused, you couldn't even breathe properly because of the things he did to you. His nail begins to press against your lip, the cold metal of his ring brushing against the tip of your jaw. You were thankful that his nails weren't long enough to make your lip bleed. "I know you're nothing but a fucking slut," pressing his nail against your teeth "now open your useless mouth before I make you coughing on your own blood." Even the thought made you shiver, opening your mouth wide, admitting your defeat.

Pressing his finger against the tip of your tooth he opens your mouth wider. "At least you're learning.." He adjusted his position and pulled himself back a little more. Since your eyes are half closed, you can't see him fully, your vision is limited. You hear a sucking sound and the next second you feel a wet feeling in your mouth. Before you could realize what the liquid in your mouth is, his fingers force you to cover your mouth, using one of his fingers to insert the part of it that is leaking from the corner of your lip. This movement causes you to swallow involuntarily. "Hah." After wiping his wet finger on the corner of your cardigan, he takes it back to its previous place. "What a slut we have here.." You couldn’t speak as you let out quiet breaths, the realization that your words wouldn’t convey anything to him only made you feel worse. His voice was coming from throat, there was a feeling inside the way he talked that you couldn't figure out.

"You fucking enjoyed it, didn't you? The feeling of my juices in that dirty mouth of yours excites you? Yeah? Freak. " He said the last part more slowly. Your breathing had somewhat got better, but all you could do was grip the sheets beneath you and try to keep your eyes open. Underneath his giggling he slowly started to move away from you, sitting on the sheets. "Guess you're not thirsty anymore." One of his hands brushes against the sheet while your hands moving to cover your mouth. After sighing, he moves to the corner of the bed, and a small grunt is heard when he hears your voice. "Wait-" "What?" He looks at his own hands, raising an eyebrow. You didn't even know why you stopped him, after a few seconds of silence you took your hand off your mouth and as you opened your mouth to speak you heard a 'pfft' sound.

He did it again. "Hell, keep your mouth shut." Reaching out from the corner of the bed, he gives your legs a little squish. "Okay, done, happy?" He says quickly as he fixes his own clothes and hair, his hands clasped together and his eyes turn to you. You swallowed it again with momentary tension, You let out an annoyed sigh and put your hand to your head. Even though you couldn't see his look, you knew he was smiling like crazy, with one last word before he left, leaving you there devastated and overwhelmed.

"Nam-gyu."

Well, at least you know his name now.

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

extremely unpopular ship but. marc/luca with 24 + 21

marc/luca: 21 (biting) + 24 (dacryphilia)

Luca braces for it like he braces for hitting the ground after being highsided off his bike. Marc saying you’re nothing like Valentino or you’re just like Valentino. Or—God fucking forbid—being sorry about how shit the Honda is. Poor boy, wasting his career on a comeback that won’t deliver.

He never does. Which is half the reason that they’re doing this, in the first place.

It’s not an accident, is the thing. Luca enjoys making mistakes with his eyes wide open.

He grinds up into Marc, dirty, slow sweeps, right against his prostate. The wet squelch of lube echoes gunshot loud between them, accusatory—as does Marc’s breathless little gasp. Luca keeps at it, again, again, again, so he’ll get another one of those noises, but Marc only throws his head back, puts it against his shoulder, miles of smooth, tanned skin in his bobbing throat.

Pretty, Luca thinks, a hysterical little laugh stuck behind his teeth, shaking when he runs a forcibly idle touch over Marc’s waxed, soft thighs.

“More?” He asks, careful.

Marc nods—open-mouthed, greedy—and drags him to hold his cock. Luca’s hands are calloused, bony, dry. Probably doesn’t feel that good, in retrospect. Marc bucks into his grip anyway, fucks into his slightly unsteady fist with abandon, like he’s bending a bad bike to take a tricky corner.

Luca bites into the soft insides of his cheek. Focus.

So he leaves a bite on Marc’s throat next. Mean, deep—it’s right there, after all. Presses down hard on the imprint of his teeth he left on the swell of Marc’s pec, on his nipple, on the knob of his hipbone. They’re growing dark already, a splotchy purple-red on gold, ugly, round lines.

He keens, jolts, legs falling open, hooked over Luca’s skinny knees. It’s like pressing on the keys of a baby grand at random, only to find out everything sounds fantastic. His cock twitches in his hand, leaks. Each slide is wetter and easier than the last.

Christ. Luca sucks in a breath, tucked against the corded muscle of Marc’s neck.

But Marc is allergic to breaks or something like that. Twists his head around and tugs him up by his hair. They’re looking at each other—which should technically be sobering, a cold wash of reality, but only makes Luca ache to press a kiss on the corner of his shiv-quick smile.

In a bit, maybe.

“You really are mean,” he says, winded, in this dangerous, wild delight.

Luca arches an eyebrow, immaculate through the hell press of Marc’s ass around his cock, how it rakes over him like an electric shock. “You asked me to.”

“People don’t usually—ah, shit, see—first fuck is usually a warm-up. Very polite.”

Luca debates for a split second, five lights and off they go, prying the words from the bottom of his throat. I actually get off on making people cry, just like that. Decides against it at Marc’s dark, cutting stare, his open-mouthed, shameless hunger. Too much like feeding a shark.

Makes himself grin, instead. “I’m very polite. You always say that.”

“Asshole,” he says—in Spanish. Putilla, like Luca doesn’t know what it means. And he laughs through it too, this ugly, honking laugh.

It’s not what you call someone doing a favor, sort of. Luca keeps smiling.

Squeezes Marc’s cock hard, drags his nails all the way to his flushed, wet head. Marc chokes on whatever noise he was making, scrambles to scratch him back, at his wrist, legs twitching to cover himself up on instinct.

He lets them fall limp, though. Stares wide-eyed, expectant. Challenging. Luca croons something sweet-sounding, backs off just a little. His grip is too tight, cruel, but more pleasure now, working him over in quick, rough twists of his palm.

Nothing about it is pretty, exactly—except Marc crumbling against him, Luca is at his strings. Except Marc whining, high-pitched and raw, when he shivers and comes with Luca running a nail over his slit and biting down on his nape.

Luca grunts, muffled through Marc tightening up around his cock, through the pound of blood in his ears.

It’s probably the funniest—most absurd—consequence of going to an engineer’s birthday party, he thinks, nerves in overdrive, about to giggle or moan or come, same fucking difference, heart drumming against his ribcage, thoughts hitting every corner.

Marc hisses out a thick noise, holds his arm. There’s no real strength behind it. Luca gets back on with what could be called his meanness, smears Marc’s come over his own dick. Jerks him only a fraction gentler than he was.

He isn’t crying, yet.

Not like he asked to, not like Luca wants to see.

But maybe soon, he thinks, perverse and not caring all that much about it, heat prickling under his skin, spit pooling over his tongue. Luca gives him a light nibble on his earlobe as a reward, more intent than actual pressure.

“More?” Luca breathes out, barely a whisper.

Marc—lashes wet, fluttering, almost there—nods.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Beach Day (🏖️🌊)

(a little scene set five years into the future of Little Blobs verse, inspired by the fact I finally enjoyed a sunny day at the beach after three days of rain lol but you can read it even if you don't know anything about the Blobs verse, it's very independent! Hope you like it ❤️)

He could get used to days like this, Tommy thinks. Both he and Evan had the Saturday off, and whenever they get lucky enough for that to happen, they like to pack up the car and take the twins somewhere. On a warm August day, the choice couldn't have been more obvious, and they've spent a wonderful day at the beach.

It's close to sunset now, and cold winds are ruffling the leaves on the palm trees. Tommy is lounging on a beach chair, with Leonardo cuddled up to his chest, wrapped in his lion towel with a hoodie. Tommy is gently rubbing circles on his back, aiming to both get him warmed up and to take a nap.

He and Evan spent the last hour with both of the kids in the sea, jumping waves, helping them swim and float around, delighting in their squeals as particular high waves licked their faces where they were safe in their dads' arms. But Leo got tired earlier than Stella, so Tommy left with him to get him dried and fed.

Now his boy is happily snuggled up against Tommy's bare chest, the soft ear of his hoodie tickling Tommy's skin. He has an arm wrapped around Leo's waist, and his relaxed breathing makes Tommy peaceful. Leo's always been like this, easy-going and affectionate, and cuddles are his favorite thing in the world.

Evan and Stella had briefly come by to grab Evan's surfboard, and now the two of them are back at the sea. They're closer to the shore than Evan would go if he were alone, and he is kneeling down on the surfboard, his arms steady around Stella's waist as they ride tiny waves, her smile bright enough that Tommy can see it from the sand, her yellow curls flying in the wind.

She waves at him, and so does Evan, their big smiles identical. Tommy waves back, blowing them a kiss, and gently nudges Leo.

"Wanna send hello to Daddy and Stellina?"

Leo turns around, his back now against Tommy's chest, and he waves happily at them.

"Hi Stella! Hi Daddy!" He says, and Tommy's not sure they can hear all the way from the sea, but they wave back enthusiastically.

"Wanna join them, bud?" Tommy asks gently, pressing a kiss to Leo's damp curls, but his son shakes his head, snuggling back against his chest.

"No, Papa. 'm happy here" He says sleepily.

"Me too, Leo-bear. Me too"

Tag list (lemme know if you want to be added or removed!):

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter

@typicalopposite @littlepaws9 @aplaceinme @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21

@dearqueend @laundryandtaxesworld @buckleyskinards @actuallyitsellie

@agentpeggycartering @chaoticdisasterbi

[glossykissies]

the readers and… who?

— the series ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

episode four: puppy reader

introducing… my newest moodboard series! i will be creating moodboards based on my different readers with some of the characters i think they pair best with! along with the moodboard will be a brief description of their dynamic. i will mostly featuring characters that i write the most on this blog, but who knows, maybe i’ll throw in someone niche! part one can be found here. enjoy scrolling through ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

billy butcher (the boys) ♡

the grumpy man ends up having an unlikely affection for the supe!hybrid!pup that himself and the boys reluctantly take in. when she’s not leaving butcher unsettling drawings on his pillow or humping his boot, he finds himself drawn to her optimism despite being deeply traumatised by the lab she came from — a strength that butcher can’t even muster.

soldier boy (the boys) ♡

heading over to the no-supe-universe — grumpy, neighbour!ben didn’t expect to care so much for the sweet, needy girl next door with an obvious crush on him. before he knows her name (maybe she told him once but he didn’t care to remember), he’s always thinking of her as a lost puppy, always showing up at his door in little skirts and socks that are blackened at the sole from walking around outside bare-foot, wielding baked goods, berries from her garden or coming shyly with a request for him to fix something in her house.

scott miller (twisters) ♡

joining scotty on his travels around for research — puppy!reader is never far from scott’s side. she enjoys life on the road, driving motel to motel and spending time with her man. she has the terrible habit of wandering off, worrying scott sick at gas stations and roadside bathrooms but it’s nothing a scolding and a spanking in the back of the car won’t fix. she behaves for the most part, subdued by trinkets and scott’s ‘fun’ facts about twisters to keep her going, but her favourite part of the day is when his strong arms wrap around her thighs and she aggressively humps his face.

clark kent (smallville) ♡

from the day clark met her, he couldn’t help but feel it was his duty to protect pup. that was his nickname for her — pup, he used it more than her real name. it slipped out his mouth once, because of the way she’d energetically fly around and then crash at his feet — and he immediately went to retract it because he thought it might be rude, but she seemed to love the nickname, begging him to say it again. she was totally helpless, greeting dangerous men with a big beautiful smile, wandering around at night going ‘exploring’ in next to no clothes. her innocence betrays her, never noticing when the guys around her stare at her tits falling out of her shirt, to the point where exasperated, her pal, good-guy clark kent has to subtly pull her top up for her with a discreet shake of the head, or on even more dire situations, turn her around and carefully pluck her skirt lower so it wasn’t riding up her ass anymore. “what would you do without me, huh?” he’d give her a tight smile, but she can’t reply — still stuck on the feeling of his hands on her.

[m00nkissedlover]

hello hello! just wanted to say how amazing your works are and im such a sucker for your leona fics the most (heuheueh ☺️)

was wondering if i could req a fluff fic for riddle this time around ? (id request for a leona but maybe another time hihi 💓) ur more than free to get creative with this one :))) take ur time as there is no rush <3 have a good day ahead ! 🍰

・｡rules 📚

you've ordered: a honey lemon tart! enjoy!

"can you settle down my soul?"

riddle rosehearts x reader | word count: 820 words

summary: in which you get riddle to relax a little📚

warnings: none!

note: my first ever request!! thank you so much @linlinmoon for requesting this fic, i hope it's to your liking. 🫶🏾 also, i don't center riddle's whole personality around being strict and a rule follower. he obviously has a more complex character than this, but for this little blurb, i just wrote whatever. (i'm genuinely sorry if this sucks T-T)

riddle was stickler for rules. it was the only reason why the heartslabyul dorm hadn't burned down yet. and as much as the dorm's inhabitants hated to admit it, some of these rules actually made sense, taking the members health into account for instance. but some were just plain ridiculous.

you, on the other hand, were a free spirit. you didn't like being tied down by rules, unless there was legitimate reason for them. having to hear ace and deuce (mainly ace) complain about the ridiculous things riddle had them do just because it was "the queen's rules" made you thank the great seven that you were in ramshackle.

because of these reasons, people couldn't believe that you had accepted riddle's feelings and made him your boyfriend. "rules-are-the-crux-of-my-life" and "rules-can-suck-my-wand" were together? like....together together?? they were absolutely floored when they saw you press a kiss to riddle's cheek before class that day, completely baffled at seeing riddle's face get so red for a reason other than pure anger.

like they say: opposites attract.

it was the day after a big exam and you wanted to give riddle a little surprise to help him relax. he'd never admit it, but you knew the redheaded housewarden was more than exhausted from staying up night after night to cram as much information into his brain as he could.

as you saw him walking down the hall, you excitedly creeped up behind him, covering his eyes with your hands.

"guess who?" you whispered, a shiver running down riddle's spine.

"i would guess floyd, but he's much taller and would call me goldfish...so it has to be you, y/n." he said, placing his hands over yours to pull them away from his eyes.

"are you free later today?" you hummed, playfully bumping riddle's hip with yours as you two walked.

he let out a yelp of surprise, playfully scolding you. "mhm. why, if may i ask?"

"well, i just wanna hang out with my boyfriend from time to time." you laughed, riddle grabbing your arm and stopping you from walking. "what's the matter?"

"your tie's crooked..." he murmured, shaking his head. "one must always look presentable."

"you and your rules." you muttered, leaning over and kissing his forehead. "i'll see you at 8:00?"

riddle's cheeks flushed once again, his annoyed expression coming off nothing more than flustered. "i'll think about it."

it was now 8:15 pm. classes had long since ended and you were currently waiting for riddle. where he had gone off to was anyone's guess.

"i'll just wait a few more minutes..." you told yourself, taking out a book from your bag to read.

1 minute passed...2 minutes...5 minutes...until-

"y/n? y/n, wake up." you felt yourself being shaken out of your little nap, your eyes blinking away sleep.

"hm? riddle, is that you?" you murmured, sitting up and stretching.

"i'm so sorry i kept you waiting. the boys didn't take care of the flamingos properly today, so i had to oversee them and make sure they wore pink." another one of those ridiculous rules.

"it's alright. we still have time to take a walk in the garden." you suggested, riddle happily agreeing.

you and riddle were now walking in the school garden, hand in hand. you'd made some lemonade for yourself earlier that day, now sharing some with your boyfriend.

"y/n?"

"hm?" you turned your attention back to riddle, who was suspiciously eyeing the tumbler of lemonade.

"did you put...honey in this, by chance?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"well, yeah. i think it tastes better with honey." you explained, obviously knowing his reasoning for asking.

riddle put the glass down immediately, a look of horror on his face.

"no! that's against the rules! rule number 256: no drinking honey-sweetened lemonade after-mph!"

you silenced his panic with a soft kiss, your hands gently cradling his possibly rose red face. your prediction was proven correct when you pulled away and saw just how red his cheeks were.

"riddle, you'll stress yourself to death with all these rules. sometimes, you just need to relax." you told him, the housewarden's frowning and flustered face making your heart warm.

"i know. it's just-"

"it's just nothing. you know i don't like seeing you all stressed and agitated. will you please just relax? for me?" you hummed, cupping his cheek in your hand.

riddle let out a soft sigh, leaning into your touch. he really was trying to tone it down, but he couldn't help it. it was in his nature.

"from now on, i'll try to be more lax, unless it's completely necessary." riddle agreed, taking a sip of the lemonade you made.

"note to self: make riddle more honey-sweetened lemonade." you teased, riddle rolling his eyes before quickly (and shyly) pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"you're lucky...that i love you..."

"i love you too, my rose red rule book ."📚

© m00nkissedlover, 2025

[more-mara]

Here’s an old WIP of mine that I have yet to finish.

Only now did Oscar actually get a good look at the captain's face. The man who had basically ruled the seven seas for the last 8 years, the man whose name alone could send a man trembling to his knees. Oscar didn’t think he’d ever get the misfortune to meet him.

Oscar bowed his head, looking away from the scarred yet shockingly young looking face of the captain. He flexed his hand in his binds, feeling the rope start to burn and chafe against his damp skin.

“What is your name, boy?” The captain asked as Oscar raked his eyes up from the pristinely polished boots to stare at the sword hilted in the captain's belt.

Oscar bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that giving his name would probably be the last thing he ever did, no one survived a run in with Captain Sainz- it’s why no one knew for sure what he looked like. Oscar felt a little defiant, wanting to at least die with dignity.

Suddenly, a booted foot was planted against his back, Oscar fell forward with a groan as his face planted straight into the wooden floor of the ship, his hands still tied behind him.

“Answer when the captain speaks to you,” A voice said. He sounded French, maybe. Oscar struggled to place it exactly but as he turned his head to look at the man, he had an amused glint in his eye- as if he was enjoying Oscar’s guts for defiance.

“Oscar,” He grunted, gaze fixed on the man behind him- decidedly not at the captain. The man’s face lit up. Yeah, he was definitely enjoying this.

“Oscar? Not a very nobel name,” The man said with a smirk.

“I am not a nobel,” Oscar said, straining in his confines. The man behind him seemed to take pity, removing his foot from Oscar’s back to haul him back onto his knees. Oscar was faced with the captain once more, whose face was deep in a frown.

“What are you, then? You don’t look like you can fight,” The captain said, his eyes raking across Oscar’s figure, taking in the tattered clothing and overall dishevelled appearance.

Oscar bit his bottom lip, eyes meeting the captain’s once more. He tried not to let his voice shake as he spoke.

“Women are prohibited on our ships by the articles, sir, bad luck, you see?” Oscar said, looking almost a little desperately at the captain- praying he knew what he meant without having to explain.

“Are you seriously explaining pirate code to me?” The captain asked. He looked completely unimpressed and almost angered. Oscar winced a little, straightening his back.

“The men- they need…they are still men, and men have needs…”

The wave of silence crashed over them quicker than the ripples on the ocean. Oscar could see the tension in the captain's face and he heard a small gasp coming from his left- another of captain Sainzs crew.

“If I spare your life, will you be useful to me?” The captain asked, his gaze narrow and steely. Oscar swallowed thickly- he had done this ‘job’ for years now, a different crew would be no different. He knew how to please- how to be of worth.

“Whatever you ask, I will do, sir” Oscar said and he hated how his voice shook. When his previous ship was attacked, he thought he was saved. They flew the flag of the navy and Oscar felt his heart lurch in his chest when he spotted it. Freedom, at last, after 6 gruelling years. But no, it appears Captain Sainz had flown the flag of the monarchy as a ruse to capture their cargo. And it worked, with Oscar being captured along the way.

“You will help the men clean their weapons, you can start tomorrow morning,” The Captain said, and Oscar felt himself frowning.

“I thought-“

“You said you will do whatever I ask, correct?”

Oscar nodded.

“Well, this is what I am asking. Charles, keep him straight,” The Captain said, nodding to the man behind him. So Charles was his name, good to know, Oscar supposed. Charles gave him a smug grin before unsheathing his sword, cutting away Oscar’s binds with swift accuracy.

“Welcome aboard, matey,”