#so excited for the sprayed edges

[tscsunlover]

neil’s lowkey serving cunt in the raven king cover in the new special editions of the books with that stance

[dragonfruitflamb3]

They disintegrated 😔 RIP loop 😔 who's coming to the funeral

[six-improbable-things]

Now that I'm back at my dad's house for the next week, I can finally read for the first time in MONTHS. My TBR pile is 16 books, which sounds like a lot, but when you realize it takes me an average of 2 evenings to read a 500-page book, it's not so bad at all.

The unholy menace... And to make manners worse, my two MASSIVE white shelves (one 7.5 feet tall, the other one over 6 feet long) are both completely full. And the smaller grey one in the foreground would be filled by now too, if I actually started putting my unshelved books on it. (I haven't been, bc it wasn't supposed to stay in the middle of my floor, but I have no wall space to put it anywhere else, so ig it's staying there for now.)

[ilovefredjones]

YAYYYY my copy of the cursed melodies has been dispatched 🩷🩷🩷

[mixingandmelting]

I loved your posts about how the batboys act when they’re crushing on the reader, and I was wondering if you had any hcs on any questionable habits they’d have when crushing on the reader. I’d imagine bc it’s Gotham city and it’s dangerous they’d be quite protective they’d probably know what route you take to work, when you get home, etc. or really just anything else stupid or weird they’d do if they liked you 😂

Dick: Surprise

Up from where he’s perched on the roof, he coos at seeing your eyes snap right then to left.

“Just a step closer to the street lamp…” He mumbles, his patience already running thin in anticipation and excitement. And, bingo, you’re right where he wants you.

Pressing send on his phone, he quietly jumps down and lands right behind you as you stand there, checking the text you just received.

“What does he want now?” You grumble your breath, not all realizing the head that leans over your shoulder and stays right next to your ear.

“Who wants what now?”

“Eek!”

For a minute, it’s silent. Your face beet red with a hand covering your mouth. His eyes on you in disbelief. Then:

“Pfft-“

He bursts out laughing, laughing even harder when you smack his arm and tell him to shut up.

“Dick!”

“That’s my name.” He quickly tilts his head, dodging your fist.

It can’t be helped, him teasing you like this. He’s a vigilante in love, head over heels for you to where he changed his patrol route so it would be timed when you leave work and he could follow you around with the excuse that he’s doing his job whenever he gets caught by you. Surprise attacks? He tells you it’s his way of making sure you have your guard up when it’s actually a small bonus for himself since your reactions always manage to send warmth and happiness down his spine, knowing your attention is on him.

Also how else would he be able to spend more time with you on a daily basis?

Jason: Weaponry

Same time, same place. He blankly stands in front of the glass shelf, mentally debating what to get you.

He’s been playing bodyguard, walking you from work to your place every night (sometimes following you when he’s being Red Hood but you didn’t need to know that) only to find out up to earlier today, you were walking in the city with the highest crime rate in the dead night and unarmed.

“Do you even know any self defense? Own self-defense?”

“No…? Why would I?” The urge to facepalm felt so real, questions on how you got it this far in his mind.

“Have you… ever considered…?”

“Why when I have you?”

…Fuck.

He rubs his face with hand, trying to smother out the flames blazing under his cheek. Whether it was intentional or not, he hasn’t figured out yet. What he does know is that you’re so smooth and cheeky, mostly likely unaware how the simplest things you do can affect him so much. Precious and so darn cute that it becomes another reason for him to worry about you from the desire of needing to protect you and your adorableness in case anyone else were to notice and snatch you away because of it.

The shopkeeper's bell rings and his hand holds a plastic bag for a change when he exits the store. A pepper spray, a switchblade - some beginner friendly stuff. He was on the fence with the personal alarm that’s disguised as a keychain considering he already had a tracker on you just in case. But having another one might not be so bad, right?

Tim: Social stalking

“Amateurs.” He snorts to himself, listening to his siblings’ conversation over the coms.

The whole following around the city is such an old classic. GPS tracking with the latest cutting-edge technology? Sure, it’ll help with keeping track, finding places to go and, maybe, where to eat on the next hang out. But the real way to do things is to do what he does: follow every social.

Snapchat, Facebook, hell even Pinterest and Tumblr, he follows you on, your socials a cornucopia of your likes and dislikes whether it’s current or in the past. How else would he have known to get you Elden Ring or that one hoodie you’ve been eyeing the past few days? Also, did you really think it was a coincidence that he’d bring up going to that one new bakery last week during the time you suddenly craved for baked goods?

The best part about it is how he’s still connected to you even when he’s not physically there and can’t text you. Reading and liking every post you make about your day fills his heart, saving any photo you take on to his phone with a dopey smile especially if it’s of you. You’re just a button away rather than miles, making him think about you constantly.

So he mutes everyone on his end and goes back to the problem at hand, that is figuring out how to become mutuals. After all, you don’t know that he knows and follows you. But he really wants to comment on your posts, especially on the latest featuring you in a Red Robin hoodie while fanning over it in the caption.

Duke: Light fluctuation

Small orbs of light surround the two of you as you both walk through Gotham Park on a summer night.

“Woah, look at all these fireflies! I think it’s the most I’ve seen so far!” Your eyes sparkle, smiling with childish glee and excitement.

“Y-yeah, it sure does…”

Mentally, he screams. He’s sweating bullets, begging everything in the universe that you didn’t hear his voice crack.

It became a thing now where every time he’s with you, he’d subconsciously emote through his powers. Just the other day, he had to distract you from looking down at your shadow because there were heart-shaped shadows surrounding yours. Last week was worse. He was on patrol, saw you, and started glowing like a glow-stick. A fucking glow-stick. The only saving grace for that incident was the sun coincidentally shining behind him when he waved at you though he didn’t appreciate the texts he got in the group chat asking why he was emitting light brighter than said star.

Now there’s this, his powers completely filling the park. At least there are actual fireflies blinking here and there in between but he’s pretty sure ninety-percent of those lights are from him.

seeing you haven’t suspected anything, he starts to unwind and enjoy the walk. Until his phone vibrates.

A hand over his face, he groans when it’s a text from Bruce, annoyance turned into horror at the news clip his mentor has sent him asking if he knew anything about the light-dome phenomenon that’s occurring.

“Duke, you good…? You don’t look great…”

“Just peachy.” His voice pitched, struggling to suppress his tears of despair.

Damian: Following around

He refuses to be slandered by Drake. Unlike the other who failed to trick his team members with a stupid disguise (like seriously, the best name he could make up was Mr. Sarcastic?), he was able to follow the son of Superman undetected by acting as the latter’s substitute teacher AND bus driver

Also, the older male does realize they do this all the time regardless of civilians or criminals alike, right? It’s nothing much different to that. If anything , it’s killing two birds with one stone where he’s able to observe you while being available to protect you if anything were to happen by following you around.

It can’t be helped, when, in his opinion, you’re not aware of your surroundings. It’s one thing for you to not realize that he likes you but it's another when One too many times, there would be someone getting too touchy with you for his liking leading him to have to them away.

Hence the current situation where he’s leaning against a tree and putting away the mini sketchpad with another completed sketch of you in it.

“What’s so great about that book anyways?” He grumbles as he watches you read the same book the fifth time this week at the stump of the same tree he’s on.

He startles when you suddenly snap the book close.

“Da- Robin, I know you’re in the tree.”

“Tt.”

Dammit. He got caught again. With that, he jumps down while preparing to face your annoyance. At least you’re thinking this is the first time, neither denying or confirming how many times he’s done it so far.

[ceilidho]

'still wakes the deep' au

prompt: You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works. First Meeting masterlist

-

Choppy waters like Neptune’s eye meet your gaze when you look back at where you came from, the land on the other side but a beige striation on the horizon. 

“Afraid of heights, doctor?” your escort asks, his amusement borderline distasteful. It must stroke their ego to watch newcomers come aboard and flounder, gawking at the swells and waves crashing against the oil rig, each wave so cataclysmic that it’s a wonder the structure stays upright. A wonder of engineering, that is. 

The rig manager stands closer to the railing, staring without fear out into the ocean surrounding you. His sea legs are likelier studier than the ones that wash up ashore every fourteen days when he’s due for his OSHA mandated break. His knees don’t even buckle at the sight of the barnacles clinging nerve-wrackingly high up on the rig legs. Far too high up for comfort. 

“No, sir,” you reply, shaking your head. “Just water.”

He barks a laugh at that. “Plenny o’ that around here. Wouldn’y go leaning my head over the rail then, if I was you.”

You take another look down, balking at the frothy white streaking the latticework barrier around the jacket legs. No worries there; there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll be going anywhere near the rails. You’re too high up to know for sure, but you wonder if there are sharks plumbing the depths beneath the rig, excited by the noise and activity on board. 

You’d be shark chum if you went overboard. Beyond that, you’d be fish food; no sympathy from the sea to be found this far from land. 

“Where should I set up?” you ask instead. 

Sensing your eagerness to get started—and to get away from the edge of the rig—he gestures for you to follow him and sets off towards the door closest to you, leading you into the interior of the rig. “This way, doc—got a room already set up for ye. Cozier in there than out here.”

The first few days aren’t so bad after that. You spend the first day getting unpacked, your suitcase already waiting for you in your quarters, which doubles as your office, and then turn in early after prepping for the next day. 

As anticipated, you spend the next day hunched over the toilet bowl, stomach roiling from spending too long staring at the turbulent waters below. You’ve done this before but it never gets any easier. Despite your chosen field of research, you’re suited for dry land, not the sea. It’s the price you have to pay though. 

No coffee that first morning. Just tea to help settle your stomach. And it does for a bit—lets you get through your first day worth of tests without you upchucking while collecting water samples from the discharge point. You’ll save your indoor work for the days when the crests of the waves are high enough to spray the working deck. By dinner, your stomach is a little more settled, but still you elect to eat in your quarters instead of with the workers in the mess. 

You haven’t been on the rig long enough to have made any enemies, nor do you think that’s something that’ll happen during your brief time on board, but you definitely haven’t made any friends. It comes with the territory. The men that work on these rigs out in the middle of the ocean—even the ones on land, for that matter—tend to view your kind with distrust at the very least, if not outright hostility. 

It’s hard to blame them. The purpose of your visit isn’t to shower them with praises. You’re stationed on the rig for the next few days to collect data and samples to assess the environmental impact of the rig’s operations. It puts you somewhat at odds with them, the outcome of your work being potentially to the detriment of theirs. 

Some whisper the word like blasphemy. Government worker. They say it like you’re the Baba Yaga or a witch living in a cottage at the edge of the village, like uttering the word too loudly will summon you. There’s too much work to do around the rig for them to cluck their tongues like gossipy hens, but the men find time for it anyway. You’d roll your eyes if you were any greener. 

The truth is though, you’re used to it, and at this point in your career, you don’t have it in you to act like it’s such a shock that they wouldn’t give you the red carpet treatment. All you need is a hot cup of coffee, an office (or even just a desk) to write your reports, and some space to conduct your research without being badgered with questions.

Most of the men tend to blur together, a medley of fluorescent yellow hard hats and navy coveralls, respirators strung around their necks and goggles covering their eyes. It’s easy enough to mistake them for one another. 

Only one of them has managed to catch your eye so far, though you can’t say it’s for a particularly good reason. Of the lot of them, he’s the loudest. Which is saying something, considering that the crew tend to speak in shouts and hollers to make up for the crashing waves beneath them and the howling winds above them. He’s also among the tallest, broad shouldered and muscled—a former first responder or military, if you had to guess, though you keep your assumptions to yourself. 

You know better than to ask questions around him because you’ve learned in the short time that you’ve spent on the rig not to give him—Soap, they call him, or MacTavish when the rig manager is particularly pissed off—even an inch. 

It’s another crew member that gives you that heads up. “Din’y pay him any mind.”

“Who?” you ask, looking up from your work.

The crew member nods to the man posted on the other side of the main deck. “Soap. Bit of a showboat, that one. Always stirrin’ up the boys, gettin’ ‘em all riled up. Din’y let him distract ye too much.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You look back down at the data sheets in front of you. “I’m not worried though. He hasn’t been too much trouble.”

Famous last words. 

He isn’t too much trouble until he suddenly is; until he’s suddenly everywhere, always in your way somehow. Not so much underfoot as just always around the corner waiting with his stupid smug smirk that you’ve grown to despise and half-lidded electric blue eyes roving up and down the length of you. Aggravating you at every turn. 

Your first meeting is an accident. At least, it seems that way, and likely is—he seems too blunt for coincidences or chance meetings, happy to tell you to your face that he manipulated the situation in order to get you on your own. 

You’re wandering down one of the many circulatory hallways and slightly lost when a door suddenly opens, blocking your way. A jumpsuit-clad man twice your size walks out, his hair just brushing the top of the doorframe. Though you recognize him instantly, you’d never gotten close enough for the details to cement in your mental image of him. Up close, you get a better look.

The faint lines around his eyes and mouth betray either his age or the life he’s lived. Weathered; bronzed from days at a time spent under the sun. You’d noticed the mohawk earlier, but staring at the side of his head now, you can see the faint puckering of a healed wound splintering out from his temple into his hairline. Though the sides of his head are freshly shorn, the scar looks old—maybe a year, maybe more. 

When he notices that he’s not alone in the hall, his head turns in your direction and he stops, one foot still in the other room. Two thick brows go up at the sight of you standing there with your tablet clutched to your chest. 

“Hullo gorgeous,” Soap purrs, pupils suddenly pinpricks and your stomach drops. 

Because of course he would. You’d long figured he might be an arrogant piece of work from what little you’ve observed of him from across the rig, but you should’ve known he’d also be a flirt. He’s too good-looking not to be one. Tall and broad, with biceps the size of your head. You’re sure he rolls his shirt sleeves up just to feel them strain against the muscles of his arms. You certainly can’t help the way your eyes are drawn there. 

“Ah ken who ye are,” he says, taking a step towards you until the tips of his boots nearly touch yours. The door is still wide open behind him, swinging slowly towards the wall behind it. Soap towers over you easily, tipping his head to stare down at you. Your lips press into a tight line when his eyes drop to your chest, staring at the outline of your tits through your cardigan. 

“Okay,” you say through stiff lips.

“Yer that lass from the government. Ah thought ye'd be auld,” he jokes, shit-eating grin on his face. 

You nearly groan. It’s too early for this shit and you’re too tired from being up all night working on your report on the rig’s discharge water quality. 

“Well, I’m not,” you reply woodenly instead, altogether unimpressed with him. 

For as fit as he is, you’re not here to flirt or hookup, and you’re good at separating work and your personal life. If anyone manages to get under your skin enough to tempt you, it won’t be the man undressing you with his eyes while covered in a thin layer of grime and sweat. 

“Nae, yer no’,” he agrees, voice a low burr. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m John, by the way.”

“I know.”

“…It’s polite tae give yer name when someone introduces thersel's tae ye.”

“I’d rather you just call me doctor.”

“Doctor, eh?” Soap purrs, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Dae ye dae house calls, doc? Hae been feelin’ a wee bit feverish lately.”

You can’t help the way your cheeks heat at his comment. “Not that kind of doctor. Do you mind getting out of the way?”

“Jesus, I din’y ken ye’d be so fuckin’ prickly. Thought ye government workers were cheery a' the time.”

“Not when we have work to do,” you bite out, decidedly uncomfortable with his shameless perusal and eager just to get on with your day. “Can you move please? I have somewhere to be.”

All that does is force him to take another step closer, toe-to-toe with you now. You should’ve known he’d take that as an invitation. He reeks of grease and brine, the smell pungent and clinging to his skin and clothes. Almost like he sleeps and works in the same pair of coveralls instead of bringing his dirty clothes down to the laundry facility like everyone else at the end of the week. 

You tell yourself to stop staring at where his coveralls open to a sweat-slicked chest, dark hair poking up over the neckline, but your eyes don’t comply. A small cross dangles from a chain around his neck, nestled in the hair just above his pecs. 

“Good Catholic lass, are ye?” Soap asks, noticing the focal point of your gaze.

You scrunch up your nose at that. “No. I didn’t—it’s none of your business anyway.”

The stutter is where his eyes light up, a little gleam in the blue that lets you know you’ve caught his interest. Like seeing a storm well off in the distance and bracing for it anyway, knowing that you’re in its path no matter what you do. 

“A’right, doc, Ah'll leave ye tae it. Gotta get back myself anyway,” he says, rolling his shoulders back and standing up taller, and it’s only in that moment that you realize how low his neck had been bent in order to get closer to you. “Wait. I can’y let ye go lookin’ like that.”

You’re about to ask him what he means when he suddenly grabs you by the front of your cardigan and pulls you towards him, getting the grease on his hands all over the fabric. Your eyes nearly bug out of your skull as he pops the topmost button into its corresponding hole, the only one you’d left purposefully loose. 

The only reason you don’t snap at him to take his hands off you is because your tongue is a knot in your throat. 

“There we go,” Soap coos when the button is in, looking down at his handiwork all over the front of your shirt. “Lookin’ like part o’ the crew already.”

Your heart pounds in your chest long after he lets you go. When he steps to the side, the door flush with the wall by now, you dart around him, walking away as fast as your legs can carry you without sprinting. You ignore the way he belts out a laugh at your swift departure. Ignore the way your stomach cramps at the sound as well. 

He might end up being more trouble than you thought.

[glasvera]

Smut and fluff with marvel rivals iron fist (lin Lie) x fem superhero reader, please and thank you ❤️

I uh... went a lil crazy on this one LOL

我的月亮 (Wǒ de Yuèliàng)

Iron Fist x Fem!Superhero!Reader

Description: What better way to recover after a grueling fight with Chīyóu's demon army than a dip in a hot spring?

Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), brief combat, cursing, vaginal sex, standing sex, sex in a hot spring, reader has a moment of self-consciousness, lots of fluff and comfort, super lovey-dovey

A/N: Fun fact about me: I took Mandarin as a second language starting in middle school. I don't remember much of it (though I can ask you if there's a bathroom somewhere or when your birthday is), but it was really fun going back and recognizing things like words or grammar. I was basically the Chinese equivalent of a weeb in my younger years so this was a major throwback LOL

Word Count: 4.7k

Relationships between superheroes was… not something most would recommend. Passionate at best, and tumultuous and unpredictable at worst. You might go for weeks, months, without seeing one another, and it was a death sentence to allow that gnawing worry over the other’s safety to take hold of you.

It’s why you were so eager to be sent on a mission in Yúnnán Shěng. It was Iron Fist’s mission, to be fair, but your ability to fly would help give him the extra edge he needed, so he was quick to request your assistance. You spot him as you soar over the bustling tourist city of Kūnmíng, crouched on top of the spire of a lone temple. It’s quieter here, with the sound of chirping insects and wind ruffling the leaves of bamboo stalks the only things to pierce the relative silence of the night.

“There you are, wǒ de yuèliàng,” he greets you as you come to hover by his side. Your heart flutters and you blush at the nickname he’s given you. My moon. 

“You know I will always come when you need me, Iron Fist.” It almost pains you to call him by his hero name, but you knew just as well as any superhero that it was always better to be safe in public even if you seem to be alone.

He smiles gratefully, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know. Doesn’t change how happy it always makes me to see you, though.”

You flash him a brilliant smile in turn. “Perhaps we could take advantage of the scenery once our mission is over?” you suggest, batting your eyelashes at him and giving him pleading eyes.

He snorts a playful laugh at your display before tugging your floating form towards him for a quick kiss. “Let’s see how things go first. I’d hate to get you all excited for a hike only to have to carry you the whole way,” he teases with a cocky grin before brushing his nose against yours affectionately. You stick your tongue out at him in response and blow him a raspberry, which he quickly pulls back to avoid as he wipes the spray of spittle from his face. “Hey! I’m only kidding!” he protests with a jovial laugh.

With your hands on your hips, you cock your head to one side and quirk a brow. “If anyone’s gonna end up being carried, it would be you, you know. I can fly, after all.”

His laughter dies down, and he regards you with the softest hint of concern in his eyes before they flicker down to watch as he wrings his wrists together. “Well, let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that at all, okay?” His gaze meets yours once more, and you can see the worry that crinkles between his brows. “I’d rather not see you get hurt at all.”

Your expression softens, and you place a comforting hand on one of his broad shoulders. “I know, wǒ de lòng.” The gentleness of your voice soothes him, and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. My dragon.

“Your pronunciation has gotten better,” he compliments before reaching out and caressing your cheek.

“I had a pretty good teacher,” you respond with a cheeky smile that he’s quick to mirror.

Your tender moment is broken by a monstrous roar in the distance followed by devastating crashes and screams. Both of you snap your heads towards the source of the sound. Whatever it was, it was big. 

“What did you say we were fighting again!?” you exclaim even as you whip behind him and hook your arms around him, lifting you both into the air. Shockwaves nearly throw you off course as this monster continues its rampage, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. You inhale deeply before propelling the two of you like an arrow straight through the wind currents that dare to fight your trajectory.

“Demons,” he responds, his voice straining to be heard over the roaring winds. “But it looks like Chīyóu isn't playing around this time.”

“Does he ever?” you groan.

Closing in on your target, you can really see just how ugly this thing is. Gigantic, vaguely humanoid, with decaying skin stretched taut across its emaciated skeleton, it roars into the air before pummeling its scythe-like arms into the ground below. It doesn't seem to care about the smaller demons that flock beneath it, destroying foe and ally alike.

“How did it get to be so massive!?” you shout in disbelief. You'd been unfortunate enough to see Chīyóu's army in the past, but they usually looked more like the infantry below.

“Don’t know, don't care. At least, not until I pummel this thing into the earth!” he replies confidently. “Take care of the small fry, would you? I've got the big one.”

You know better than to protest. He is the stronger out of both of you, and your airborne agility would give you enough of an edge to dodge any stray swings from the big guy while you take care of your foes.

“Okay. I trust you… but come back safe,” you urge before soaring up high enough to launch him at his target. He climbs up the demon's large frame with ease, running up his torso before laying into him with blow after blow straight to the face. You can’t help but smirk as you hear it cry out in pain even as you propel yourself back down towards your smaller enemies.

“Alright… who wants to go first…?” you taunt as energy crackles in your palms.

-----

Not surprisingly, you're done with your fight long before Iron Fist has finished his. You desperately want to help, but you weren't unscathed, panting heavily as you hover nearby. It had taken more out of you than you'd expected; they were far more coordinated than they should have been. Thankfully, your injuries were limited. You were simply exhausted, forced to use your power beyond your normal limits to keep up with each and every demon that launched and swiped at you. 

Iron Fist seemed to be doing fine. It was simply a very tough fight, but it was one he was slowly winning. You felt the energy pulsating off of him as he summoned the blade shards from his fists, and the demon cried out in agony as his punches grew faster, deadlier. It wouldn't be much longer now. Suddenly you hear a loud and sickening crack!, and slowly, stumbling, the demon lets out a final, guttural groan before plummeting to the earth. Iron Fist wears a triumphant grin, and you begin to fly towards him to catch him before he joins the demon's descent.

He lands into you with an “oof!” as you steady him, hugging him tightly with your arms wrapped around his chest. “See? Not a problem at a--!”

But your victory is interrupted by the sudden shockwave caused by the demon's body collapsing to the ground. You're too exhausted to react in time, and it sends both of you hurtling through the air as you let out a startled cry. The force of it knocks you miles away, holding on tight to one another and spinning towards an unknown destination. You begin spiraling towards the ground, trying and failing desperately to stop your momentum, and panic rises in your chest.

“Y/N!? We're gonna crash!”

“I know!” you snap back. “I'm trying!”

You're pretty sure your life is beginning to flash before your eyes as the rocky mountainside gets closer and closer. Frantically, you pour all of your willpower into the energy pooled within you, using whatever you have left and centering it so it coalesces at the soles of your boots. It’s just enough to generate a bit of friction, and finally you find yourself slowing before touching down safely on the ground.

Wide-eyed and shaky, you nearly collapse before Iron Fist catches you and helps you stay upright. Even under his mask you can see the way his brow creases with worry.

“Th-that was… that was close,” you stammer out. “S-sorry.”

Seemingly a little less disoriented, he chuckles. Once he’s sure you can stand on your own, he cradles your face in his hands, and those brown eyes gaze warmly into your own. “Hey, we’re alive. That’s what matters.”

A trembling titter passes through your teeth, and you shut your eyes and lean into his touch. After a long sigh, you nod. In the silence that follows, a soft, distant trickling sound catches your ear, and your eyelids flutter open to find its source. Liè hears it as well, and a knowing smile draws upon his lips.

“So, about that sightseeing you wanted to do…” he begins, and you give him a curious look. He’s up to something, but you have no idea what it could be.

“I don’t think I’m in any state to be sightseeing right now--”

He puts a finger to your lips and you hush immediately, feeling your cheeks warm in response. His hands fall from your face before he suddenly scoops you up into his arms, bringing a startled yelp from you before he begins bounding down the mountain.

“H-hey! What are you--!?”

But as he carries you over the rounded stones and lush foliage towards the base of the mountain, that trickling sound grows louder, and you gasp as the leaves part to reveal a hot spring bathed in the light of the full moon. Even at its edge you can feel the humid warmth of the steam seeping into your weary body.

“Ever bathed in a hot spring before?” he hums, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail down your body as he holds you.

“No, I can’t say I have,” you respond honestly, feeling a heat born from something other than the nearby steam.

He lowers you to the ground gently before taking a few steps forward with his back facing you. His fingers get to work unwrapping the yellow bandages coiled around his arms, letting them flutter down like ribbons onto the stone beneath you. Next, he unties his mask, discarding it in a similar fashion, and then you hear the clinking of his belts before the thud of leather hits the ground.

“Liè…?” you whisper, not trusting your voice fully as he continues to undress before you. He merely turns his head towards you and smirks, and with a rustling of fabric he stands shirtless before you. Moonlight glistens and illuminates his defined muscles, rippling with every movement he makes, and your breath catches in your throat.

“People don’t typically bathe with their clothes on,” he teases, making it sound like the most obvious explanation in the world for him stripping so sensually in front of you. When you still don’t seem to make any sort of move, he turns to face you. The two of you had never… well, you’ve never even seen him shirtless like this before. You try not to let your gaze linger overlong at his broad chest or travel down too low to see the V of his hip bones disappear beneath his trousers--

The pad of his index finger finds your chin and lifts your head to look at him. “My eyes are up here, yuèliàng,” he chides with a snicker. Though, his own eyes find themselves flickering down to your lips.

“You’re so unfair,” you accuse with a breathy laugh.

“Says the one still fully clothed,” he retorts with a purr as his arm wraps around your waist.

You brace a hand against his bare chest, reveling in the warmth of his skin as your tongue wets your bottom lip. “I didn’t realize it was a race,” you tease. Self-consciousness floods your thoughts at the realization of what was happening, and unwittingly your fingers tense against him. Concern softens his expression, and the hand at your chin caresses your cheek.

“Y/N…?” He smiles tenderly. “Are you nervous?”

Your eyes flicker back up to his. “I’ve just… you and I, we’ve never…” Unable to find the words, your voice trails off, fading into the sounds of the bubbling spring. “What if I’m not…?”

“Not what?” he inquires, searching your eyes for the answer you seem unable to give him. The hand at your waist rubs soothing circles into the small of your back.

It grows more difficult to maintain eye contact, so you find yourself staring instead at where your fingers rest upon his skin. “Not… not good enough? Pretty enough? I don’t know…”

“Wǒ de yuèliàng…” he murmurs softly, shaking his head and embracing you into an almost smothering hug. “Zài wǒ xīnzhōng nǐ shì rúcǐ měilì. Nǐ hěn wánměi.” His breath whispers against your hair as he buries his nose into it. Your Chinese is limited, but you don’t have to understand much of it to know what he’s trying to tell you. Beautiful. Perfect. It wrenches at your heart. You’re misty-eyed when he pulls away, resting his hands on your shoulders. “But if you’re not ready--”

You silence him with your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands slide down your sides and rest at your hips, and strong fingers grip you tightly. When you pull away, he regards you with hooded eyes and parted lips.

“I… I’m ready,” you breathe out. “But… do you mind turning around while I undress?”

Liè chuckles but nods wordlessly, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to your forehead. He turns back towards the hot springs, shimmying out of his boots and pants and giving you a tantalizing glimpse of his toned ass before he disappears beneath the spring's waters.

You take a deep breath before divesting yourself of your superhero suit, fumbling a bit with the buckles and zippers. Your hands are trembling with nerves when you hook your thumbs into your panties and drag them down your thighs. If only you could see Liè's face; his skin is flushed, and his eyes are squeezed shut to help him resist the temptation to sneak a peek at you. He's just better at masking his nerves than you are.

Steeling your resolve, you exhale shakily. “Okay, I… you can turn around now.”

The water sloshes with how quickly he moves, and despite the humidity of the hot springs, he grows parched at the sight of you. Your arms and hands drape demurely over your breasts and between your legs, and you look away shyly under the intensity of his stare. The moonlight bathes your skin in its silvery splendor, and the trees behind you seem to almost bend around you and frame you perfectly in their lush foliage. 

“Wow…” he breathes quietly, at a loss for any other words. He steps towards you, making his way to shallower waters as his chest and hips reemerge in a cascade of water droplets, seemingly unperturbed by his own nudity. His cheeks turn a deep pink as he drinks you in. “Nǐ hěn wánměi.” You are perfect. He brings his hands up to cradle your face and stare deeply into your eyes. They're warm, wet from the spring, and the feeling is oddly grounding while droplets trickle down your cheeks. Slowly, your arms fall to your sides. You bat your eyelashes at him with the tiniest of smiles. 

“You're one to talk,” you tease, your gaze flickering back down as your fingertip traces along his collarbone and follows the contours of his pectoral muscles.

The ego boost brings a cheeky grin to his lips, but he doesn't indulge it further. Instead, he brings your faces closer together and kisses you deeply, hungrily, groaning when his hands begin to wander. They tangle in your hair, wrap tightly around your back, grip at your waist… he's determined to feel every inch of you, and quickly the fire within you urges you to do the same to him. A surprised squeak sounds in your throat when he grabs your ass, kneading the plush of your skin in his palm.

“Liè!” you gasp as his lips press at the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, and finally nipping and sucking at the column of your neck. He lifts you by your rear, earning a giggle from you before you wrap your legs around him, and walks you back into the water to envelop you both in its steamy embrace. His arousal rests hard and hot against your stomach, and desire replaces any remaining reservations you had. All you could think about now was him, of his skin on yours, his lips hot and wet on your neck, his broad shoulders beneath your fingertips. 

With the water to help support your weight, he holds you against him with one hand as the other trails back over your ribcage, resting beneath your breast before cupping it and squeezing gently. Breathy moans slip from your lips and grow louder as he leans down and takes the stiff peak into his mouth. His tongue flicks up and down over the sensitive bud.

“Yes, oh…”

He hums against your skin, gazing up at your face with blown pupils. Every expression, every melody you sing because of him, is intoxicating.

“Mm… how did I get so lucky?” he muses while pressing tender kisses in the valley of your breasts. “To have such a beautiful, strong woman in my arms, singing me her praises…” He adjusts his hold on you, sliding you down just a bit and bringing you face to face again. The water laps soothingly against your bare skin. Your eyes flutter closed when the backs of his fingers brush gingerly along your cheekbone.

“I hear being the Immortal Iron Fist helps one's chances,” you giggle, and he scoffs in mock offense. Your smile widens and you press your forehead to his. “But being Liè, my dragon, my…” You choke on your words for a moment, but only a moment.

“My love…” 

You feel your face heat up at your own words, but they were words long coming. “... that's all it takes. All I've ever wanted.”

“Yuèliàng,” he exhales sharply, the term of endearment a reverent hiss upon his lips. Those same lips crash upon yours once more, and your arms wrap eagerly about his neck. His brow furrows, and between kisses he whispers those sweet words. “Wǒ ài nǐ.”

You grip the black hair at the nape of his neck tightly, but not nearly so tight as the hold this man has over your pounding heart. Your mouth slants over his, kissing him deeper, delving your tongue between the seam of his lips. He meets your efforts eagerly, curving over you as your back arches and your chest presses against him. One hand finds the small of your back to draw you impossibly closer. When he pulls away from your devouring kiss, you're both panting for air. 

“Let me make love to you,” he begs breathlessly. His nose nudges yours affectionately and his brow creases. “Please.”

Never in a million years would you say no to that. You kiss him tenderly before nodding softly. “I want you, Liè. All of you.”

He groans and rolls his hips, his evident desire sliding along your heat and drawing a gasp from your lips. You were no virgin, but he was thick, and your mind was long gone with fantasies of how he would feel inside of you. Not that you would have to wait long for those fantasies to become reality, of course; he peppers your face and neck with kisses while he continues to grind against you. His hand reaches down for a handful of your ass, guiding your hips as you join him in the search for that delicious friction. The hot spring water only makes your movements easier, and on more than one occasion he nearly slips right in. When the bulbous head presses up against your clit, you whimper and your thighs tremble, and you can feel yourself growing wetter even without the spring's help.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. He holds you still, and you brace your hands on his shoulders while he begins deliberately guiding the head of his cock up and down your slit. Your hot, slickened folds are too inviting to resist, and slowly, torturously and slowly, he sinks the tip into your heat. You steady your breathing and force yourself to relax the tension in your body at the sudden intrusion. His hips rock into yours, finding it hard to breathe himself as he stretches you out inch by inch.

“Liè, oh gods--” you hiss before your jaw goes slack with a moan. He’s sheathed himself in you completely, and you've never felt quite so full. He stills inside you instantly as worry etches his features.

“Are… are you okay?” he stammers out, tenderly cupping your cheek. It’s obviously difficult for him to keep himself from rutting into you like a wild animal, and you feel his cock twitch impatiently while your walls clench around him.

“I-I’m fine,” you breathe out. “You're just, um… shit… you're so big…”

His concern fades instantly and is replaced with a cocky grin much more becoming of his handsome face. A groan of approval growls in his throat and he’s grinding into you again, the water splashing gently with the movement, angling his cock back and forth with shallow thrusts.

“Is that so…?” he muses coyly. His thumb traces your bottom lip. “I hope that won’t be an issue.”

You keen as every move he makes leaves his cock dragging languidly back and forth against that perfect spot. “N-no, I--”

He interrupts you by taking your lip between his teeth and tugging on it softly. A staggered breath whispers from you.

“Good,” he purrs. He sucks on your bottom lip before darting his tongue out, inviting you to part your lips and let him in. A devouring groan hums and vibrates from him into the kiss. Your tongues dance sensually, feverishly, and he starts thrusting into you with renewed vigor. Shutting your eyes tight, you tangle your fingers in his short black hair, and your high pitched whimpers pour into the kiss.

It's easy to forget the battle you had fought not even an hour ago. It certainly doesn't feel like he was fighting for his life against a demon twenty times his size. His seemingly endless stamina ripples through bulging muscles to help him piston in and out of you. His movements favor precision over speed, deliberately drawing back and making sure you feel every inch before he slams back into you.

You're so lost in pleasure, but when he pulls away and stares into your eyes your breath hitches in your throat. There's so much adoration in those brown eyes, so much love and affection reserved for you and you alone. Your hands draw back to cup his face gingerly while he bounces you up and down.

“Liè…” you breathe softly. He turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm.

Half-lidded eyes blink slowly, lovingly at you. “You feel perfect,” he praises. 

“Mm…” you moan with a dreamy smile, “More, Liè, please.”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Can you hover in the water?”

You blink curiously at him. “I… yes, of course, but--”

“Just do it, trust me,” he states with a coy smirk. 

Your hands fall from his face to rest at your sides, and it takes a surprising amount of concentration to summon the energy to fly, even if you're just hovering in place. Whether it's due to exhaustion from the earlier battle or simply that he's fucking you so well… it's hard to say. After a few moments, he feels your weight lifting from his firm hold. His thrusts pause, and he huffs out a laugh when you whine at the loss of stimulation. 

“Keep your legs up like that. Hold onto my shoulders if you need to. Otherwise,” he pauses, cocking his head to the side and flashing you a cheeky smile, “...just remember that you asked for this, yuèliàng.”

You barely have time to ponder what he means by that before both of his hands grip you by the waist and his hips slam into yours. A soundless scream leaves your jaw agape as he pours every bit of his strength into his thrusts. Despite the roughness of it, you can feel the way your cunt squeezes him tighter, sucking him in every time his cock drags back out. Skin slaps against skin, and it takes every last bit of concentration and willpower you have to keep yourself aloft. The hot spring's waters splash and spray about with the frantic pace he sets, disturbing the peace of the night with the cacophonous symphony of your lovemaking. 

Now that he doesn't have to hold you up himself, one hand rests on your stomach as his thumb seeks out your clit. A shock of pleasure courses through your body that leaves your toes curling. Aided by your slick and the warm water, the digit glides effortlessly in circles, and soon he's timing it perfectly with every deep thrust of his length. You find your voice again even if all you can muster are broken moans. 

“F-f-hah-uh-ugh-uck!” you babble, each stammer coinciding with the hammering of his cock deep within you. It chisels away at all sense, leaving you raw and vulnerable but hotter and hotter. It burns and licks as the fires of pleasure spark brighter and more intense. Nails dig into his shoulders to keep you from wobbling mid-air.

“Shit,” he curses, hissing in pleasured pain at the feeling. “Gǎnjué zhēn dì nàme hǎo ma?” Does it really feel that good? His breathy teasing is accompanied by a confident smile even as he grits his teeth with the effort of fucking you. 

His tone tells you all you need to know even if you don't recognize all the words. The low, possessive growl in his voice leaves you a whimpering mess, and you feel yourself creeping closer and closer to the precipice.

“Liè, oh, f-fuck--!” you gasp. “Right there, yes!”

An airy chortle hums in his chest between grunts. “Nǐ zhēnměi.” He takes your breast in his palm before tweaking the bud between his fingertips, and he leans in to kiss and suck at your neck. The sensations overwhelm you as your moans and whimpers grow higher and higher in pitch. His movements are messy, more instinctive than deliberate, as he gets closer to his own release.

“Yes, yes, oh, yes--!”

He can’t help himself from biting down at the sensitive spot he’s discovered at the crook of your neck, and it has you seeing stars. You send him into a frenzy with your sweet song, a siren calling him and begging him to ravage you utterly and completely. And gods, does it feel better than anything you’ve ever felt. Your body feels like it’s floating even beyond the literal sense of your powers, cresting higher and higher and--

“Cum for me, yuèliàng.” His voice is right there at your ear, a low, seductive growl, and the cord within you finally snaps.

“Liè!” you scream, your body convulsing in a mind-shattering orgasm. His thrusts falter as he feels you clamp down and flutter around his cock. A broken groan cracks in his throat and he doubles his efforts, pistoning into you relentlessly as you cry and babble out moans from the overstimulation.

“F… Fuck, Y/N, I--shit!” He quickly pulls out of you before taking himself in hand, cursing and exhaling guttural moans as he strokes himself feverishly beneath the water’s surface. He maintains eye contact with you the entire time, drinking in your half-lidded expression. With a final string of huffs and grunts he cums with a cry of your name, emptying himself into the spring. His forehead falls against yours, out of breath, pulling you into his arms as the two of you come down from your high.

You slump back down into the water and allow yourself the comfort of his embrace. He starts pressing slow, lazy kisses to your lips, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, drawing giggles from you that bring a goofy smile to his face. The peace of the night returns, and the only sounds around you are the bubbling of the spring and the soft, chirping chorus of insects and amphibians about. Your heart feels full, warm, and your eyes find his as you gaze at him reverently.

“I love you,” you whisper.

His doe eyes soften before he gives you a deeper, more insistent kiss. “I love you too.”

[bunny-jpeg]

shut up and put your money where your mouth is

max verstappen

tags: smut/pwp, driver!reader, rivals au, bickering/fighting, married in vegas, drinking, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, hangovers, 2.5k words

a/n: happy las vegas gp everyone!

wheel to wheel. toe to toe. cheek to cheek.

this was the dance you did with the three time world champion. the rivalry that put mclaren and red bull up against one another. and in the lead up to the las vegas grand prix, it was you and max's world and everyone else was just living in it.

"you should smile more." he said at the bar in one of the casinos on the strip. he pinched your cheek and you wanted to bite him.

you replied shortly, "i'll smile when you give me something to smile about. don't think i forgot the last race." you were barely edging max in points with the season wrapping up.

he just smiled, "i know you'll be smiling when i bring it all home in a few weeks. don't you worry." then pinched your cheek once more.

damn max verstappen.

the rivarly started years ago. max was the youngest rookie and you were a few months older than him. along with being the first female in far too long. the hype around your arrivals to the sport caused you two to step on each other's toes. both of you felt an overbearing responsibility to be the best. your father breathed down your neck on the track just as much as max's did down his.

and even after years in the game, you were both painfully in each other's orbit. so much so that your dear teammate oscar once said, "i'm pretty sure if you two weren't in formula one you'd be married by now!"

you replied with a laugh, "oh please, i'd never! not in a million years." but last vegas was the city of opportunity, and before an exciting weekend you went out for a few drinks with your rival. and as much as the city has opportunity, it was still sin city.

enough gin and tonics for max to feel a little more relaxed. and enough cranberry-vodkas to leave you feeling warm all over. what sent you over the edge with him was his flushed face and him undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. your eyes raked over his almost exposed collarbones and you shifted in your seat.

you swallowed and took another hearty drink, which only fueled a sexual fire in your belly. you felt something hot run through you at the sight of him. you looked away to try and not think too hard about it. you played with the gold chain around your neck.

max leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at your neck, "did i buy that for you?" he put his arms on the table and his expression was drunken as he said, "wearing what i bought you?" he laughed, "if i know you'd wear it. i would've bought you a ring."

you felt heat rise in your cheeks more, "i think people would get the wrong idea. we're supposed to hate each other. the headlines would be insane, max verstappen buys ring for his rival."

he chuckled, "well, you are my favourite." he swallowed and darted his gaze quickly, "my favourite rival." then took another hearty sip of his drink.

you licked your lips, "just a rival?" you asked softly. the liquor emboldened you and you let go of your necklace. in a moment of weakness you reached for his hand and asked, "not even friends?"

max swallowed, "not friends."

you felt ice wash through your core at his words. a tightness in your chest prevented any words from coming out.

max realized in his drunken haze that he only said half of the sentence. when you pulled your hand away, he was desperate to grab it back. shock crossed his expression, "no, no! not like that!" liquid courage made him say the words, "not a friend. a lover."

the words tumbled out of your mouth, "verstappen... i'm saying this on the most certain terms... take me. fuck me. do whatever you want to me." you swallowed.

-

you held the trophy over your head. you beamed with pride after your country's national anthem. you did it, you won the first race of many. as max then sprayed you with champagne, there was a single thing on his mind.

you'd be his one day.

-

you made it to the elevator with max in tow. you were headed to his room. you held his shoulders who he held you to kiss you deeply.

"as good at kissing as you are at racing." you giggled.

"oh, are you giving me a compliment? never heard that before." he smiled at you. he had you by the waist.

"don't get used to it. if you don't make me cum, then i'll never let you live it down." you held his face for a moment, "i will tell everyone that the great max verstappen can't make a woman cum."

he pressed you further against the wall of the elevator, "oh don't worry, i'll make you feel good."

the elevator dinged and you both stumbled out of it. max trapped you against the door while he loomed over you and tried to open it. it was hard to kiss your heated skin and open a door at the same time. on top of being drunk.

"focus on one thing." you groaned.

"if i do then i'll be fucking you in the hallway. and wouldn't that be the scandal of the season." his words struck something in you and when the door was opened, you were pushed inside.

when you caught your footing, you got your heels off. max wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up. while you weren't stick thing (couldn't be in formula one, not with all that force), but max was simply stronger. he got you both over to the bedroom before he cornered you. you squirmed and he said, "stop moving or i'll drop you." and soon got you onto the king sized hotel bed.

he undid al the bottoms of the shirt and got his belt off as well, he stripped those from himself along with his slacks. in just an undershirt and his briefs in the end, he got onto the bed with you. the dress would've been torn off of you if you weren't fast enough. max groaned when he shoved his face between your soon bare breasts.

"just like i imagined." he groaned. his hands were at the waistband of your panties, "fuck. i need more." and while he got your panties off, you got your bra off.

"you really are excited." you shuddered as your hand up under his shirt. his shoulders were framed by the straps of the undershirt. he looked a little more domineering, which only raised the heat in your body.

"how could i not be? look at you!" he purred before he got the white undershirt off along with his dark briefs.

both of you were naked and tumbled fully onto the bed together. you kissed him once more until you ended up on your stomach with your face in the pillows. max admired your strong back. being a driver meant exhibiting a strength which you presented in spades. strong in so many ways, which was an aspect that pulled max in.

enamored was a term he could use. but that implied it was casual, but max's feelings were far from casual. you were next to the blood in his veins. the spark in his life, the heat in his soul.

he lined his cock up against your soaked cunt. he felt drawn to you, like a siren's call. he couldn't help it, he had been needing this for a long, long time. he sank into you and you felt the excitement of pleasure rush through you as you laid out in the bed.

"at least a decade in the making." he groaned, "ten years, ten years i've been wanting you." he felt a moan leave his lips. two drunks fucking in an expensive hotel room. two multi-million dollar drivers rutted together with a hot passion between you two.

"fuck, don't make me feel old." you buried your face further into the covers and arched your back further. pleasure bloomed through you. you could never truly hate max. it wasn't in you.

max leaned in to kiss you on the centre of your back as he moved against you. his hot breath against you warm back, he felt the thrill of pleasure as he worked you slick cunt. your pussy felt like a dream, while drunk, you still felt perfect. you let out a soft moan as he moved.

"fuck."

"please, max."

"i know."

you were near certain that this was what the entire grid was hoping for. you knew that people shipped you two together. you see the edits, the reddit threads, the fan art, the fan fiction. and you knew the paddock talked.

you gripped the soft pillow under your face and you whined a little bit. the wooden headboard rocked against the white wall of the bedroom. you hoped that checo's room wasn't on the other side. you'd never hear the end of it.

max wrapped his strong arms around your middle and continued to fuck you. he moved against you. his cock bullied against your g-spot and you were left breathless. you wanted him, you wanted him in ways you never thought you'd ever admit.

max lit a fire in you. to push yourself harder an further, you were only as strong as your ability to match max. and your rival made you the best. you clutched onto the pillow and felt a stagger in your heart. your mind was filled with pleasure, but also the liquor. in some way, vodka only made things feel more intense.

you felt it race through your body as the two of you fucked on the soft bed. the slogan from vegas was true, anyone could get lucky here. and you got rather lucky with max.

he held onto you tighter, his strong arm around your middle as he rutted against you. it was a protective feeling to you and you loved the feeling. you guessed that he was a protective force in your life, no one bothered you with max around.

you hissed into the pillow and you felt the surge of intense want. this was a feeling you wanted to feel again, again, and again. you held on tightly and the immense heat just dragged you into the depths of pleasure.

"please, max. i want you. fuck, i didn't know i could want a rival so badly. you're as much in my soul as the engine of my car. ever since we met, i knew you'd be a force in my life. i need you more than i need anyone else. fuck." you rambled, muffled by the covers, and max loved it.

you were always delicate with your words and to hear profanity leave your lips so freely made max run hotter. the way you spoke as you lost all rationality in your head.

he had an effect on you, even on the grid and you wanted to kill him. you never did, not when he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes. he was your weakness, hence why you were rivals. the pleasure continued to mount, the feeling was electric. it made you hold on tightly, your back arched as he worked your body. you felt on cloud nine, not a care in the world. the want rolled through you and you moaned his name out loud once more.

"fuck, max!" you came around his cock with your nails dug into the pillow. he pressed himself up against your back and continued to fuck you with a feverish face.

the bed creaked under the both of you and the over stimulation made your head swim. you felt the heavy rush and he only kept moving against you. sweaty chest up against your sweaty back. thrusting against you, the pleasure built up in his brain.

the pleasure reached its peak and max slammed his cock as deep into you. he tried to get as deep as he could get and it made you climax once more. he rode out his orgasm, and soon he slowed to a stop. he felt racing in his chest. he wiped sweat from his forehead then kissed your back.

"max."

he pulled out and laid out next to you. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest. he peppered your face with sloppy kisses and you melted at his tender touch. even with his caring touch, his words caught you off guard, "fuck, let's get married."

and as you got lost in his eyes, you nodded, "sure."

-

the sun come morning burned and you turned over to look away from the window. you cracked open your eyes and the hangover weighed on you like a heavy blanket. you were met face to face with max, who was asleep beside you.

your eyes went wide and you pulled away from him. your chest tightened as you pulled the sheets closer to your chest. your heart leapt and you swallowed. when you looked down at your shaky hands, you saw a ring at your left hand. a shocked noise left your lips at the sight of it.

the ring was a gold band with a small diamond. you swallowed, there was no doubt what it was. you got very drunk and you got married. a nagging feeling of who you married was soon answered when you saw max shift and he had a matching gold band on his ring finger.

this was only confirmed when you opened instagram. and the post you were greeted with was of your hastily put together wedding. you looked happy as you kissed him. it felt like the rest of the platform was in a tizzy over this sudden wedding.

a sports reporting outlet had the caption, "mclaren's princess has tamed the bull!!" with a photo of you at the alter, your lips against max's. the next post read, "verstappen ties the knot with long time rival before the las vegas grand prix." you stomach sank and the reality was a cold splash of water.

post after post, reactions from what felt like everyone. you only came back to focus when you felt max's arm drape around your waist.

"max, we're in trouble..." you swallowed.

he slowly opened his eyes. he held onto you tightly for a moment before he kissed at your side. his expression was dreamy, still asleep as he let go of you. his expression changed suddenly when he noticed the ring on his finger. his eyes went wide before he took your hand and saw your ring.

"oh..."

"max, say something." you tried again, your voice tight. you felt the immense anxiety through you. what would the fia say? what would the press say? what would every other goddamn driver say?

it was bad enough people speculated for years about you two, but to have it come to reality was terrifying. but max didn't seem as scared as you.

he looked at you, only to shift closer. he kissed your side once more then said, "well, good morning then, mrs. verstappen." <3

[from-izzy]

[17:07] | enhypen park sunghoon

Sunghoon grunts at the reminder of your true visit, yet still makes love to your collarbones to cherish every second with you. “Not yet…” he pleads that time will go slower. 

pairing » enhypen park sunghoon x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship au, (not so) secret relationship au, non-idol au

genre » fluffy fluff with slight suggestive themes (nothing like this), lovesick and cute sunghoon, boyfriend sunghoon, reader helping with sunghoon's sister's dinner dance prep!

word count; estimated reading time » 1293; ~5 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » getting caught during making out by sunghoon's sister, kissing on lower abdomen/body, sunghoon lifts reader, reader implied to be smaller than sunghoon

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 enhypen masterlist

my debut to enhablr...? i see clips of sunghoon and heeseung and they make me wanna get into enha 🥹 i'm sure the fandom knows that sunghoon has a sister but i didn't use her real name for this fic; it just makes me more comfortable in this way. hope you all enjoy!!

You don't usually knock on the Park’s residence house since Sunghoon would usually open it for you as per his invite, or help you sneak in through the side window. But today is a bit different since today is Serin’s dinner dance at her school, and she asked you for help with makeup and outfits. In a heartbeat, you agreed, especially since the event has been a special one for you since the day Sunghoon asked you to be his.

Sunghoon knows about you coming over to help his sister, but knowing that your visit today isn't for him puts a frown on his face. His relationship with you is still private, which is something that you both want at the current moment. But after a year of dating, he can't wait to formally introduce his once best friend to his family who is already very fond of you. 

“Thank you so much for coming!” The door opens to reveal the younger girl. “Come in!”

You chuckle at her excited nature. You know Serin has been a delightful one since a long time ago, and you're glad to be part of a wonderful event for her. A few steps into the house, you see Sunghoon by the couch, resting his chin on his arm as he pouts at you. 

“Hey,” you greet him casually, sneaking in a wink behind Serin.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes away playfully, turning around to the television as he sulks and sinks into the couch. 

“Oppa! Don't be rude!” Serin defends you. “But whatever, guess I'll have her to myself.”

If it was anyone other than his beloved sister saying those words, Sunghoon would cling to your side, sweep you off your feet and claim your lips with his. “Whatever,” Sunghoon dismisses her with a hand wave. 

Upstairs, Serin had all her makeup and dress options ready for your second opinion. It wasn't long until you chose the one you thought suited her the best, helping her change and adjusting it to fit nicely on her body. Just as so, it didn't take long until your numerous hair and makeup suggestions were chosen by her. 

“You're gonna be the prettiest girl in the room,” you blend the pink blush across her cheeks. 

“Of course, I am. You're the one giving me the makeup after all,” you chuckle at her words, adding the finishing touches and setting spray onto her face. “Don't tell Sunghoon this, but I'm going with a date.”

You gasp at the information. “Really?! That's so cute! Let me see a picture!”

Serin skips over to make sure the bedroom door is locked before sitting on the edge of her bed, patting the empty space beside her for you. The younger swipes through the many pictures in her gallery, recounting the main parts of that day spent together. 

You know what it feels like to be attracted to someone. To like someone, and ultimately, to be head over heels in love with someone. Looking through the pictures of her and her partner for the dance, you could tell that it wasn't puppy love or a short-lived crush. How'd you know? Her eyes sparkle with minimal lighting as they cuddle in the picture tells you everything her heart feels.

“Don't tell Sunghoon please,” a pout overtakes her face. “You know how protective he is, and I promise I will tell him soon.”

You squint your eyes in suspicion, humming in contemplation. The younger pleads once more, a pinky out hanging in the air, waiting for yours. In the end, you gave in, knowing well that you weren't going to not agree from the start. You understand where she's coming from since your brother is the same as well.

“Alright, go get the rest of your things ready!” You nudged your shoulder against hers and excused yourself from her room. 

As soon as the door clicks securely shut, your fingertips on the metal knob don't even get a chance to properly let go when they're replaced with warmth instead. A hand grasps the side of your waist, pulling you next door where the meaning behind another click of this door differs greatly. 

You yelp at the soft tug, a hand protecting the back of your head when your body hits the door. The room is barely lit, only the moon and the street lights shining through from the still-opened curtains beside you giving the luminance enough for you to face your blushing boyfriend. 

Sunghoon sighs deeply with how he manages to finally have alone time with you successfully without getting caught. His lips finally attach to yours, drowning out the giggling and pleasurable moaning slipping out from the both of you. Your eyelids flutter shut, brushing against his skin gently as he shudders at the way your nose nudges his as you kiss him feverishly. As the situation escalates, the hood around his head falls, giving your hand access to his beautiful locks.

The grip on the side of your body tightens only slightly as your boyfriend pulls you closer to his chest that your hands rest on. Sunghoon leaves your lips, travelling to your ears to huskily whisper, “Hi baby girl,” he kisses your ear after, kissing along your jawline and neck as you gasp at him.

“H-Hoon-” you hiss at the pressure he puts on a sensitive part of your neck, messing and tugging on his hair. “Your sister is going to be ready at any time now.”

Sunghoon grunts at the reminder of your true visit, yet still makes love to your collarbones to cherish every second with you. “Not yet…” he pleads that time will go slower. 

The hand behind your head joins the other side of your body, slithering down to the back of your thighs as Sunghoon kneels, continuing to trail his kisses to your clothed stomach. With a swift motion, he carries you by your thighs, standing up and walking towards his bed. He never spared a moment where his lips didn't touch your heated body. There was no time for your heart to calm its racing pace, the adrenaline of staying quiet hitting you both. 

Now seated on his bed with you straddling his built thighs, you take this moment to fully open your eyes, seeing the white light shine upon his red cheeks. His palm cups the apple of your cheeks, foreheads resting as you catch your breaths. 

“Can't get enough of you,” he mutters. “I just want and need you all the time…”

Sunghoon is cute when he's lovesick like this, your cheeks instantly heating more than before at his confession. You hum, “I love you, Hoon.”

“I love you much more.”

His orbs sparkle upon yours sincerely for a second until his open lips come closer to claim yours again. You're millimetres apart when the door opens unexpectedly behind you. Your body reacts first, jumping away from Sunghoon, pushing him flat onto the bed as you pull your clothes to straighten the creases of the makeout. 

Serin covers her eyes even if you both are detached, the split second burning into her memory. “I knew you guys were together, but I didn't know it was getting spicy here!”

Sunghoon’s body springs up from the mattress, “You knew yet you still came in?!”

“Wait, that's what you're worried about?!” you exclaim with wide eyes at your boyfriend. “You knew all this time?!” Questioning the grinning sister at the door.

“I know I just kind of exposed you, but don't expose me!” Serin shouts as she retreats to a safer part of the house.

“What does that mean?!” The clueless brother runs out to interrogate his sibling while you're left dumbfounded at what just happened in the last few seconds. 

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 enhypen masterlist

tags: @k-films @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @haneul-and-clouds @sunlightwoo @hursheys

[alexispunkkk]

baby fever

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: husband!andrew garfield x fem!reader

- summary: seeing andrew with your friend's child and on screen with a daughter gave you a massive case of baby fever.

- warnings: unprotected sex, pregnancy mentioned, smutty as hell, nipple play/sucking, established relationship, rough sex

- word count: 3.1k

- author’s note: second fic on here omg i'm so excited! thank u for all the likes and reblogs or wtv they are called, i'm still trying to figure out this app lol.

—————————————୨ৎ

You’ve seen all of your husband’s films, and they didn’t usually get to you too bad. It’s perfectly fine for him in your mind to have an on-screen relationship or even sex with another woman for a film because it's all scripted, but his latest was truly different. 

Andrew’s newest work – We Live in Time – obviously both broke and softened your heart and made you sob an uncontrollable amount. Despite the somber nature of the film, the rest of it was utterly heartwarming and just so domestic.

Not just the relationship and marriage aspect, but seeing him as a father. A girl dad, if anything. 

The sight of him and Florence playing with and carrying around their adorable on-screen daughter did things to both your head and your body. Ever since watching the film at it’s first screening, you couldn’t possibly get the thought out of your head:

Andrew giving you a child, helping you grow life; Andrew being the most wonderful father to the beautiful little boy or girl that you hypothetically birthed. 

The baby fever tugged at your mind for a bit, but died down in the months following the film’s release. You thought it was gone for good, but it crashed down on you ten times harder than originally at the simple sight of your husband playing with your friend’s little girl.

Your ovaries were practically screaming at you in seconds, your body begging you to let him put a child in you. Nothing sounded better to you right now than being all pregnant and swollen because you knew you’d be carrying his child. 

Getting home from your friends, after seeing him be so gentle and caring with your friend’s child, you couldn’t get the thought out of your head. The two of you showered and got cozy for bed, and of course Andrew noticed the lingering sense of distraction or thought on your face.

“You okay?” He checked, taking off his Omega watch and setting it on the nightstand while sat on the edge of your bed, giving you a borderline concerned look.

“Mm-hm.” You nodded simply, turned over away from him on your side. The scent of his fresh cedar shampoo and that amber cologne he sprayed on after the shower filled the air, helping you sense him just as he began to slide into bed and cuddle up behind you.

A pair of strong, familiar arms slid around your waist from behind, his scruffy chin coming to rest on your exposed shoulder with a quiet sigh. 

“I know you too well, baby. You can’t fool me tonight,” He whispered and peppered a few gentle kisses to the cold skin in an attempt to get you opened up, his slender fingers moving under your tank top and tracing the skin of your stomach ever so gently. “You’re all distracted since we got there earlier.”

He was too engrossed in the scent of your hair and cold, soft skin to see what exactly it is you’re distracted by now.

It isn’t until he notices your phone screen that he realizes what your mind is so preoccupied with. He was about to speak and ask again but the second his mouth opened, he heard the quiet giggling of an adorable baby coming from your phone.

The open-mouthed expression crossing his face instantly morphs into an amused grin when he puts it together and sees what’s going on. He buries his face deeper into your neck, chuckling softly and mumbling just under your ear. 

“Sweetheart.” He starts, trying not to laugh. This isn’t the first time this has happened – he’s dealt with your extreme swings of baby fever from time to time – just not anytime recently. “What’s that? You lookin’ at baby videos again or just happen to be shopping for onesies?”

His comment earned a quiet snicker from you, getting all giggly and shy when he points it out and finally notices. You scroll to the next video, acting like nothing’s up, as if your entire feed isn’t strictly baby after baby.

“Just scrolling. It’s nothing.” You cheese to yourself, reaching down to take his hand off your stomach. You lift it up to your mouth, pressing soft kisses to his knuckles for that usual bedtime comfort. 

Andrew does nothing but sit there and laugh, letting you take his fingers and do whatever it is you want with them. 

“Uh huh. Just scrolling, I’m sure. Just a coincidence, then?” He sneers into your hair, inhaling deeply to get as much of your beautiful scent as he can. Even if his nostrils seem to have built up a resistance against it from smelling it so often. 

The baby videos catch his eye as well, he just can’t help it. Anyone would get a little soft upon seeing a video of the most adorable baby girl giggling away in a onesie. Plus, it’s crossed his mind recently, and he doesn’t entirely hate the idea of thinking about a baby soon.

You simply nod and keep quiet, immersed in the little world in your head where the cute baby on the screen is yours, and you and Andrew are taking perfect care of it. 

“Come on, I can practically hear the cogs in your mind turning. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.” He lightly grazes his cold nose against your ear, a shiver shooting down your spine at the proximity of his voice into your ear.

In a moment of hesitation, your body flips over to face him, the two of you becoming a tangled mess of limbs in no time. His hands instinctively wrap around your waist, resting on the warm skin of your lower back to tug you closer while he murmurs sweetly against your forehead.

“Looks like your baby fever is back, sweetheart. Written all over your face.”

He’s right on point with that, but you’re not ready to admit it just yet. The idea of having a baby with him is so highly anticipated in your mind but the conversation leading up to that decision wasn’t as simple.

“...Yeah.” You reluctantly agree, voice a soft whisper against his neck while his chin comes to rest on top of your head. 

You’re almost overwhelmed by the upcoming conversation but the feeling of one hand stroking down the back of your hair and the other tugging on your thigh to hike your leg up over his body soothed those nerves. Nothing ever has to be that serious with Andrew, he’s always able to calm you down and make even the most serious of discussions so tender.

“Yeah? Is this just, like, a quick baby fever phase, or something you’ve actually been considering? You’ve gotta talk to me, y’know.” He tried to be as gentle as possible to coax the not-so-easy answers out of you and figure out what you’re thinking.

You sigh and give him a soft smile, feigning annoyance and rolling your eyes at the question. But the mock annoyance doesn’t last long, as your head buries right up into his neck to inhale his intoxicating scent and try to calm down.

“I don’t know. I’m ovulating, I can’t believe anything my mind is trying to tell me about a baby.” You chuckle quietly, your nose ghosting against his jaw ever so softly. “I kind of… maybe want one.”

He sighs back, scratching gently at the base of your neck with his long fingers. “If it’s any help, I think you’ll be a great mom. The world needs more of your genes, too.”

The soft words and the tiny kisses you feel beginning to press against your hair send you in a complete 180. The hesitance was gone at the slightest touch of his fingers – possibly because of that previously mentioned ovulation – but also from the overwhelming urge to let him just fill you up and get you so pregnant.

“Yeah? You’d be the greatest daddy. It was all I could think about earlier when I saw you with those kids today.” You admit in a rushed whisper, letting go of all the shame and worries you had regarding the idea of a baby. “Seeing you with a little girl made me want you to fill me up so badly.” 

Andrew thought there would be a bit more of a serious discussion before this, but you seem to be jumping right into the fun part. The way your quiet voice and fresh breath ghosts over his throat causes a quiet groan to choke up in his throat, freezing him in place so he has to take a moment to collect himself.

“Hm. Can’t say I hate anything related to burying myself inside of you. Especially if it means not using any prophylactics.” He responds in equal fervor, the tiniest concern still bugging him so he just has to ask. 

“You sure, though, sweetheart? This is a huge decision to be making, we haven’t even talked.” He asks, voice getting quieter and shakier while you’re already tugging at his t-shirt. “Baby…”

His shirt is off in seconds and you’re on top of him before he even has a chance to breathe, your lips making heated contact with the skin on his collarbone. Absolutely no time is wasted before your own tiny tank top is off at the hands of Andrew, exposing your soft skin. Your nipples harden under his touch and the brisk air of the bedroom, earning a groan from the man underneath you.

“We can figure it out tomorrow morning if we regret it, I don’t care.” You gasp and try to inch closer, lips landing wherever they can while his hands work earnestly over the skin on your pretty breasts. “Want a baby in me. Just.. at least need to feel you finish. I’m craving it so bad, Andy.”

The previous gentle whispers and grazes are replaced with gasps and firm grasps at each other’s skin and clothing, getting everything off without a second thought. It’s like something possessed the two of you, the baby fever turning you into captivated messes for each other.

“I can do that.” Andrew chortled, pulling the sweatpants from your hips to leave you in the pretty pair of black panties that he loved so much on you. 

The weight of the shared decision hung in the air. Not necessarily heavy, but more grounding, like a reminder of the extraordinary journey you chose to step into with him. 

Once his boxers were off and discarded without a care across the room, your lips met in a fervent, sloppy kiss. In only a moment your tongue was stuck deep into his mouth, not just kissing him but sucking on his tongue in the lewdest, most vulgar possible way.

The eager and sincere sucking got a groan out from deep in his throat, pulling you back into the reality of the moment. Your tongue left his, moving to trail down his neck carefully while your hand moved down to pull your panties off. You couldn’t even handle having them on for another moment.

Andrew sighed at the feeling of your wet cunt rested on his stomach, his hazy eyes opening to take a nice gaze down at your body while you straddled his waist. The simple sight of the wet patch forming on his lower belly from how you were already dripping made him need you now.

Normally, he’d think to ask if you were okay first, check on you a million times to make sure you felt good, and take his time to let you adjust. But tonight something primal overtook both of you, not wasting any time at all. 

“Please. Need your cock. Inside. Now.” You gasped against his neck when his thumb came in contact with your aching clit, bucking against his hand like the needy mess you were. 

“So needy for me. Can you say that again for me, baby?” He groaned, grabbing your hips with no effort to be careful, lifting you up and sitting you on top of his already throbbing cock. Precum dripped out from the tip but was gone soon enough at a simple swipe of your finger along the tip.

You sat on top of his cock, but the absence of it actually inside of you made you whine.

“Andrew. M’not joking, please.” You whined again in utter desperation for the feeling of his warm length to fill you so right and stretch you out, but his hands kept you in place for the moment. He kept quiet, biting his lip in focus while he took his cock and gently brushed it against your slick.

Feeble moans slipped from both of your mouths at the slight contact on just the tip against you, making you need more. More, more, more. Andrew did love to tease you, but he knew now wasn’t the time to mess around and rub against you like that. You’d pounce any moment now to get him to put it inside.

You knew it was finally time when his hands moved from the sides of your waist and down to give your hips a loving tap. You know what that means: to lift up. He only suspended you for a moment before absolutely slamming you back down onto him, your hips meeting and his cock being buried inside you without warning or giving you any time to adjust. 

“Andr-” You started to groan in slight pain from the initial contact, but the feeling was replaced in seconds with the overwhelming pleasure he took his time to give you. His hips pushed up to meet yours passionately and desperately, squeezing you so hard and pushing you down to get the perfect angle in the depths of your pussy.

“Shh, baby. Giving you what you asked for. Just-” His voice was huskier than normal during sex. He’s normally so gentle and slow with you, but the visceral need to fill you up with a baby right now couldn’t handle that slow of a speed. He just wanted to cum as quickly as possible. “Just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah? Let me make myself a daddy.”

You didn’t protest one bit, shutting up at his command and sitting back while he guided your body down onto his, pushing harder than he maybe ever has during sex. Initially, you thought the erotic words spilling from his mouth would be the hottest thing of the night. But his mouth made contact with your right breast, swaying that opinion with no room for argument.

“Oh, Andy.” You whimpered, body arching and writhing every way to try to feel his pulsing cock as deep as humanly possible inside your wet cunt. His mouth sucked at your tit, teeth gently grazing the nipple and feeling it harden under his attention.

“Can’t wait to see these full of milk.” He mewled, letting his mouth come off of the right breast with a loud pop, switching to the other side. 

You never really thought of it that way, but the idea of pregnancy with Andrew was unbelievably hot. Normally it didn’t sound like such a sexy thing – swollen feet, morning sickness – but he made everything better. The thoughts of morning sex while he held and caressed your big belly, taking perfect care of you and the upcoming baby, were overpowering and all you could manage to focus on in the same moment he was balls deep inside of you.

Andrew, again, wasn’t being a gentleman. He’s fucking you dumb at this point, getting as deep as possible and hitting your favorite spot with each rough stroke. Whimpers spilled from your throat uncontrollably while the only noises heard from Andrew were the muffled groans against the skin of your tits in his mouth.

Just like he was rooting for, he felt the familiar stirring and tensing up in his gut.

“Baby, baby. Mmph- m’gonna cum soon.” He groaned and gave up on your breasts because he could hardly focus, wrapping his arms entirely around your body so you could be chest to chest during the last moments. “You sure about this? I can finish in you, right?”

You didn’t even allow yourself to listen to or process his words, nodding mindlessly like you were entirely drunk on pure lust. But he didn’t complain, obviously – it made his job a lot easier.

“Love you. Gonna- oh. Gonna make you the prettiest mommy, give you the most beautiful baby.” Groans escaped from his throat uncontrollably, his heading falling limply back while his hands squeezed at your hands with no remorse. There’ll for sure be some bruising tomorrow. 

As much as you wanted to, to make the moment more special, you couldn’t get out a single word. He’s got you completely numb and dumb in his arms while you look pretty and take him deep.

“There. Right there.” He growled into your ear, the most genuine of moans you’ve ever heard from him accompanying the filthy words while his release filled you up entirely and coated the inside of your pussy.

He rode it out slowly but pulled out to not overstimulate you, only now realizing how carried away he got that he didn’t bother checking on you or anything. It took a few moments for both of you to even catch your breath enough to breathe but he went right back to classic Andrew once he could speak. 

“Oh, sweetheart. Are you okay? I didn’t go too rough, did I?” He began worrying far too quickly, knocking you out of that gorgeous aftershock of the sex and making you snort. The moment was ruined, to an extent, but in an arguably beautiful way. 

“No, baby.” You whisper and fall down limp against him, head finding the familiar spot in his now sweaty neck to catch a break after the intense sex that you certainly are in no way used to. It wasn’t his typical well mannered self, but there was absolutely no issue in that – it may have been the hottest sex you’ve ever shared. “Okay, maybe a little. But it was fantastic.”

Both of you managed to calm down after a bit, the realization of what you’ve done finally hitting you in the afterglow.

“Oh.” He whispered, holding you as close as possible so you feel your intense heartbeats against one another. “I might be a daddy. Oh.”

[prettynpinkputhy]

18+ getting frosted by jjk men 🧁

🎀Warning🎀:Absolute filth, language, degradation, praise, penetrative sex, breeding, oral, etc

💗Satoru Gojo💗“fuuuhh…” his crystalline eyes flutter and roll as your spit drenched hands twist his length. You suck at his sensitive tip, swirling your skillful tongue around its mushroomed perimeter. Stares deep into your eyes, the lines in his face scrunched with effort to hold back, not wanting this little slice of heaven to end. He Can’t take the overstimulation anymore and yanks his cock back, letting his load spray aimlessly at your bare tits.

💗Toji fushiguro💗 “Open your mouth, doll. stick out your tongue. Mmm S’fucking hot” slaps your lips with his throbbing heavy cock. Sloppily slides his thick heft all over your face, smearing your lips, nose and chin with your frothy saliva. Pulls out to slap your cheeks before stuffing your mouth full again. fists his shaft till he spurts all over your flat eager tongue.

💗Choso Kamo💗 “Mmmph, Ugnnn fuck ah right there, bite me harder, like that like that. Don’t stop mmm!” He babbles brainlessly before diving back into your perfectly displayed pussy. He loves 69’ing with you. Being able to pleasure each other simultaneously made his cock threaten to explode at any moment. He laps at your slit with long languid strokes, using the tip of it to flick your throbbing nub. Tries to warn you he’s close but can’t speak around you grinding back into his face. “Mmmph!” The sound vibrates your cunt as he unleashes pump after pump of thick cum on your chin and neck.

💗Suguru Geto💗“That’s it, work for it. Don’t be lazy, fuck me back. You wanted this so take it.” His huge hands dig into your waist, pushing and pulling your ass back and forth on his dick. Stares down completely mesmerized by how the plump flesh jiggles with every thrust. Can’t help but to slap it hard, loving the red heated handprints he leaves behind. cool air hits your most vulnerable area as he spreads you apart, wanting to see how well you’re taking him. His thumb massages circles around your tight ring as he pistons in and out. You cum clenching around him like a vice and it sends him over the edge. Hisses as he withdrawals at the last sending to shower your blushed ass cheeks with his hot cream.

💗Nanami Kento💗 “There is no better feeling than being this close to you. You’re so beautiful like this. Ah I’m too excited, I don’t want to hurt you. Fuck baby, forgive me.” He presses warm open mouth kisses down your neck and shoulders as he holds you impossibly close in missionary. This is his favorite position with you. Being able to wrap you in his arms and watch every emotion he made you feel was the sexiest thing in the world. His thrust are long and patient. Pushing your thighs back and sitting up, he rolls his hips right against that mind bending spot deep inside you. His thumb presses against your clit, massaging it in achingly slow circles. His other hand twists and tugs your nipple. Your head snaps back into the pillows and you drench him in your love juices. He feels you squirt around him and can’t help but to follow suit. Pulls out of you and grabs the hilt of his twitching cock, aiming it at your stomach. It gushes wads of semen, icing your skin like a pastry. “Someday I’ll fill this cute tummy with my babies.”

💗Ryomen Sukuna💗“let’s test your limits!” He laughs maniacally pounding into your swollen rose tinted lips. Spit dribbles down your chin and neck, his hand clutches the base of your throat—feeling how deep he’s going. Your best is about two inches past your uvula and today he wanted to push it even further. He Wants his entire monster sized cock sliding in and out your slick hot throat. Tears prick your eyes as you gag around his punishing thrust. His eyes are wild as he grins down at you nearly crying around his dick. His fingers grip your hair roughly as his hips move at a blurring pace. “I won’t hold back, don’t you dare spill my seed, mortal!” Yanks your mouth all the way down as he expels jet after jet of his demon cum down your throat.

[23victoria]

slow motion

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut (wrap it before you tap it), cussing, fluff, i think that’s it

authors note: it’s been a min so i need to get something out to you guys!! hope it’s not bad and ignore any typos! ALSO SO PROUD OF OSCAR!!! HE DESERVED THATS WIN!! LOVE HIM SM!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

wanna be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

“What the fuck, why would they do that?!”

The frustration coursed through you as McLaren’s decision to box Lando first flashed across the screen. Oscar was leading the race, on the brink of his first victory, and yet they chose to pit Lando first. It didn’t make any sense. Every nerve in your body was on edge as you watched the race unfold. The radio messages about switching positions were maddening. It felt like McLaren was orchestrating the race rather than letting it happen naturally.

Finally, when the order came for Lando to let Oscar through, you felt a mixture of relief and lingering irritation. This was Oscar’s moment, his hard-fought victory, but the team’s strategy had cast a shadow over it, making it seem as if it was a gift rather than something he had earned.

When it was time for the podium celebration, your heart swelled with pride. Watching Oscar spray the champagne, his face illuminated with joy, was everything you had dreamed of. The crowd’s cheers echoed in your ears, and you could hardly contain your excitement. He had done it. He had won his first F1 race, and you were bursting with happiness for him.

After the celebrations, you and Oscar are on the way to the hotel. "McLaren needs to get their stuff together," you told him, shaking your head. "They almost ruined it with their strategy. But you, babe, you were amazing out there. You earned that victory."

Oscar smiled, a tired but satisfied look on his face. "Thank you. I can't wait to go home and sleep."

You shook your head playfully. "Oh no, we have dinner tonight. We're celebrating, sorry not sorry."

He groaned, half-jokingly. "Can't we just stay in?"

"Absolutely not," you insisted, laughing. "We're going to have a nice dinner, drink, dance, and celebrate your victory properly."

The dinner party was a nice turnout. Friends and fellow racers gathered around, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement and congratulations. You and Oscar mingled, shared drinks, and danced, reveling in the celebratory mood. Laughter and cheers filled the air, making the night unforgettable.

On the way to the hotel in the car, you couldn’t keep your hands off Oscar. The excitment from the victory was still coursing through both of you, and your desire for him was at an all-time high. You leaned in, kissing his neck softly at first, then more urgently, as your hands roamed over his chest. He tilted his head back, giving you better access as you whispered dirty words into his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

"You're so amazing, Oscar," you murmured, your voice low and seductive. "I can't wait to get you back to the hotel."

He groaned softly, his eyes darkening with desire. "You're driving me crazy, Y/N."

"Sit on the bed," you instructed him, a mischievous glint in your eye.

As soon as you reached the hotel room, you pushed him inside, locking the door behind you. "Sit on the bed," you instructed, your voice commanding yet playful.

Oscar obeyed, his gaze never leaving yours. You slowly began to undress, swaying your hips seductively as you removed each piece of clothing. His eyes followed every movement, his breath hitching as you revealed more of your skin.

Clad only in your lingerie, you straddled his lap, feeling his arousal pressing against you. You ground your hips against him, eliciting a deep moan from his lips. Your hands roamed over his chest, teasing and caressing as you kissed him deeply, your tongue exploring his mouth.

He reached out to touch you, but you pushed his hands away playfully. "Not yet," you teased, moving his hands to his sides as you continued to dance for him. You could feel his arousal growing beneath you, adding to the heat between you.

Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You pushed him onto the bed and climbed over him, your hands deftly unzipping his pants. You kissed his neck, nibbling on his skin as your hands roamed his body, teasing and tantalizing.

You pushed him back onto the bed, crawling over him with a mischievous glint in your eye. Your fingers deftly unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. You kissed down his chest, trailing your lips lower and lower until you reached his hard length. You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach.

Oscar's hands tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as he groaned with pleasure. "Fuck baby, that feels so good," he breathed, his voice husky with desire.

You slowly sucked his cock, taking your time to pleasure him until he was teetering on the edge. Then, you pulled back kissing his tip, climbing back up to straddle his hips. You guided him inside you, both of you gasping at the sensation. You moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely. Then, you began to ride him harder, your movements becoming more urgent as the pleasure built between you.

Oscar's hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he helped guide your movements. You rode him slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, your moans mingling with the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You leaned down to kiss him, your lips meeting his in a passionate embrace. Your tongues danced together, the kiss deepening as your bodies moved in perfect harmony. You felt his muscles tense beneath you, his breath hot against your mouth as he groaned with pleasure.

"God, you feel so good," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands roamed up your back, pulling you closer as you continued to move together.

You began to ride him harder, your hips moving with increasing urgency. The friction between your bodies was intoxicating, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Oscar's hands moved to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, Oscar suddenly flipped you onto your back, taking control. He thrust into you with a new intensity, his movements faster and harder than before. The change in angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you cry out his name.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss as he drove into you. "You're mine," he growled against your mouth, his voice raw with passion. "Every inch of you."

"Yes, Osc," you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "I'm yours. Always."

His pace quickened, his hips slamming into yours with a relentless rhythm. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin. His name fell from your lips in a litany of pleasure as he brought you closer and closer to the brink.

"Come for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice a low, sexy growl in your ear.

His words sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, a powerful orgasm ripping through you. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him. Oscar followed soon after, his own release hitting him hard. He buried his face in your neck, groaning your name as he filled you with his warmth.

You lay there together, your bodies entwined, both of you breathing heavily as you came down from the high. Oscar gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with love and satisfaction.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice tender.

"I love you too, baby," you replied, pulling him into a soft, lingering kiss.

✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens

✿ .° • oscar taglist • °. ✿ : @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel l @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @flowerpetalk @oledoledoffen

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Summer Talks {Blurb}

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Fred lets you know what he's waiting for

WC: 980

Warning: Use of Y/N-

Summer at the Weasley’s was always delightful. Everyone was outside in the sun, spraying each other with muggle water toys or swimming in the lake. It was always so cozy, and full of life, your favorite place to waste hours of your time.

“Hey, {Y/N}! Going in already, dear?” Mrs. Weasley called out to you and you rang out your hair and jogged up to the porch and grabbed the towel George threw at you. Giving him a bright smile and a swift thank you as you covered your swim suit clad body.

“Mhm! I'm going to freshen up!”

Mrs. Weasley nodded, her warm smile never fading. “You’ve been in the water for ages! Make sure to grab a snack before dinner; I’ve just baked a fresh batch of treacle tart.” She called back, her eyes glinting with excitement.

As you turned to head inside, you caught sight of Ron and Hermione engaged in a playful and rather sarcastic argument about who could build the best sandcastle down by the lake. Harry was nearby, laughing and attempting to mediate, but it was clear he was being drowned out by the two.

When you caught his eyes he gave an exaggerated sigh and you just shook your head, hurrying up the steps to the room you had been staying in for the past few days. Charlie’s old room. Though, you were annoyed to find that someone was currently occupying the in suite bathroom Molly had assured you would be yours for the summer.

You rapped lightly against the door, hearing the faint sound of water running and muttering something to yourself. No one answered.

Carefully, you opened the door and peaked in, furrowing your brow in confusion before you saw the shower had been on. Was on.

“Hello?” You called again, not knowing exactly what you expected, until you heard a voice call back.

“{Y/N}?” Fred called back and opened the curtain. You quickly dropped the edges of your towel and covered your eyes with a shocked gasp, only to hear him laugh. Carefully, you peaked through your fingers and gave a loud and annoyed groan to see he was showering in his swim trunks.

You leaned down to grab your discarded towel, only to roll it up and throw it at him. “You cheek! This was supposed to be my private bathroom!”

“Hey, hey! Play nice, you'll bruise my best asset.” He huffed and you rolled your eyes. “Get over yourself.”

He laughed and shrugged, taking your towel and tangling it in his wet hair as he turned off the shower head. You turned to walk into your room and sat on Charlie’s old bed, while Fred leaned in the bathroom doorway and let the towel fall to his shoulders.

You did your best not to watch as his hair dripped and hit the hard wood flooring. How he gave you that loose cocky little smirk he always seemed to wear, like the bottle of absolute sunshine he was. You leaned your head in your palm as he walked over to sit beside you.

“So, {Y/N}, it's been a while. Some would say you're avoiding me.” He teased and you bit your cheek.

“I always am, Fred.” You cheeked and smiled at him, he looked up at you from where he leaned on his elbows, tilting his head and giving you a pretty obvious look up and down.

That wasn't new.

“Keep it in your pants, lover boy.”

Fred chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I can’t help it if you look good in that swimsuit. It’s a compliment, you know.” He flashed you that grin- the one that could make anyone’s heart race.

You rolled your eyes again, but you couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto your face. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Weasley.” You muttered, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

“Is that a challenge?” He chuckled, leaning closer. “Because you know I love a good challenge.”

You shook your head, trying to maintain your composure. “Oh I know you do. How's Angelina? Heard you lettered her a few times since I've been back.”

He rolled his eyes back and gave an exaggerated groan, before he sat up and ran his fingers through his head. Giving you an amused look. “Stop that.”

“No, I'm serious.” You insisted. “I heard from George that you two have really been hitting it off. Good for you two.”

He gave a disbelieving laugh and looked you straight in your eyes. Holding the look for a moment before his smirk turned far more gentle, but still insistent. “You know that it's me and you getting married, yeah? My mom would kill me if it was anyone else.”

You felt your heart race at his words, your cheeks warming as you tried to process what he had just said. “What are you on about?” You managed, trying to sound casual, but the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed you.

Fred leaned back, his expression shifting to a mix of playful seriousness. “I mean it! You and me, it’s been me and you since we were tots.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You really think so? What about Angelina?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Angelina is dynamite. But she's more into me but.. younger.” He smirked and you furrowed your brow in confusion, before your eyebrows shot up.

Oh George you prick.

“Now, George did tell me something interesting.”

“What's that?” You mused and turned to look at him again.

“You and Wood. What's going on there?”

“Oh, are you jealous?" You teased and rolled his jaw.

“I don't get jealous. I don't need to.” He stood up and began to walk backwards, sending you wink as he walked to the door. “You have fun with that fling. Call me when you're ready for your husband.”

[wwooyology]

Until Forever | P.JS

↳ this is an add on to this fic here!! you do not have to read it to read this one, but it would make more sense if you do!!

「pairing」 : fiance!jay x fem!reader 「word count」 : 5k

「synopsis」 : it's father's day and you and your daughter make a secret plan to surprise jay with a nice dinner to come home; however, neither of you had expected him to return home early, but it doesn't change much. jay is just happy to have his little family together for a special day.

「genre」 : fluff... like tooth-rotting fluff, dad!jay

「warnings」 : kissing, mentions of pregnancy, petnames (baby, babe, princess, love, baby girl, bug, sweets...), down bad jay, minor cussing, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : this is something I wanted to write for a while, and well, I couldn't think of a better time than fathers day! I loved writing my first dad Jay fic, so making an add-on to it actually makes me really happy, but I hope you enjoy it. happy father's day to those who celebrate and to those who don't well... I'm your daddy now hehe

The warm summer sun was shining through the small kitchen window above the sink as you and Minji stood at the counter with mixed cake batter. The young girl was standing on her little stool next to you, trying to crack an egg, but she couldn't, which caused her to start getting frustrated. She just wanted to help you bake a cake for Jay for Father’s Day, but she had been struggling to crack the same egg for a few minutes, and you didn’t want to interrupt her. However, when Minji goes to throw it down, you intervene and take the egg from her little hands.

“You can’t throw the egg, love,” You laugh softly, cracking the egg and dumping the inside contents into the bowl with the other ingredients.

Minji pouts as she watches you mix the batter, her hands holding onto the countertop. She is amazed by how easy it was for you to crack the other egg before putting it into the bowl as well.

“Why is it so hard for me to crack the egg, mama?” She asked, eyes tearing away from the bowl to look up at you as a smile tugged on the corner of your lips. Even after two years of her calling you that it never ceased to make you smile, loving to hear the words fall from her lips.

You dusted your hands off with a rag before turning to face the little girl. Starting to bend down, you realized that you couldn’t go down as far as you once used to with the baby bump that had formed on your stomach. Getting comfortable with one hand gripping the countertop edge, you opened your mouth to speak to the little girl, but she was quick to interrupt, panic on her face.

“No, mama, stand up. You’re going to squish, sissy!” She exclaimed, her eyes moving from your face down to your swollen belly. You couldn’t help but laugh at how worried she was.

“Min, the baby is okay, I promise.” You smile at her softly before dusting some of the flour off of her shirt. Now, how about I finish up with the cake so we can get it in the oven? Then we can decorate it while I start dinner, okay?” A smile grew on the little girl’s face as she nodded her head, excited to make the cake look pretty for her daddy.

Patting her head softly, you pull yourself back to your feet with a huff, grab the bowl, and whisk to finish mixing. Minji watched with intrigued eyes, not saying much as you made sure there weren’t any clumps left in the batter before grabbing the cake pan.

Spray the pan with cooking spray to make sure the cake won’t stick to the sides when you try to get it out. Then grab the bowl and start pouring the batter inside. Once all of the batter was scraped out of the bowl, reach over Minji and sit it inside the sink, then grab the cake pan.

“Stay right here, Min, I don’t want you to get burnt.” You instruct the young girl, and she tilts her head quizzically before muttering a small ‘Okay, mama.’ After making sure that she was going to stay in her spot, you walk over to the preheated oven and open the door before sliding the pan in. When it was fully inside, you closed the door and set the timer. Dusting your hands off once more you looked back at Minji who was still watching you with curious eyes, you looked at the clock. 

Jay shouldn’t be home until later in the evening, so the two of you should have more than enough time to decorate the cake and finish cooking dinner before he returns.

After the cake was done baking in the oven and fully cooled off you and Minji started to decorate it. You covered the entirety of the cake in frosting before grabbing a variety of sprinkles, decorative icing, and edible flowers to lay them before Minji so she could decorate.

“Alright, sweets, figure out what you wanna use while I finish off the frosting.” You pat down a few strands of her hair before turning back to the cake and grabbing the spatula.

Minji leans down until her chin rests on the counter, watching as you smooth out the frosting. Her eyes then fall onto your belly, and a small pout forms on her lips.

“How much longer is sissy going to be in there?” Minji asks as she lightly pokes your belly, resulting in a soft kick from the baby that was growing inside of your womb. You smile softly, setting the spatula down to cup the small girl’s face, brushing some stray frosting off of her face with your thumb.

“She still has a few more months until she gets here, Min,” you tell her with a smile, moving your hand from her face but not looking away.

Minji’s bottom lip jutted out, “Why can’t she come sooner?”

“Well, if she were to come now, she would be really sick, and we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” You watched with a fond gleam in your eyes as the little girl shook her head violently, slight panic forming in her eyes.

“No! I want her to be healthy, so I can play with her.” She exclaims, causing you to laugh softly, shaking your head. You then tell her that she will have to wait just a little bit longer after she’s born to play, which results in the young child sighing before yet another pout forms on her lips.

The both of you then go back to decorating the cake, talking about anything the girl could think of or humming a tune that has been stuck in your head.

However, after a few moments of not hearing a peep from Minji you looked over at her, seeing a troubled look on her face. Stopping what you were doing so you could turn all of your attention to her, “What’s wrong, bug?”

The moment that Minji turned her head, allowing her teary eyes to meet yours. Seeing the tears that were pooling along her waterline made your heart lurch. You reach out to cup her small cheek in your palm, thumb wiping a stray tear that had broken free.

“Are you and Daddy going to forget about me when sissy gets here?” Her voice shook as her bottom lip trembled, making your heart hurt. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel like you or Jay would forget about her when the baby got here.

“Aww baby,” You cooed softly, crouching down once more despite the discomfort so you were at eye level with her. Reaching out, you tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, looking at her with such fondness, “We’re not going to forget about you, even after the baby gets here.” You offer her a small smile, tilting your head slightly. “She’s going to need a lot of attention, but your dad and I will never forget about you, no matter what.”

Minji sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her hand before holding out her other hand, her tiny pinky sticking up. " You promise?” she asks.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you wrapped your own pinky around her’s, “I promise.” The both of you seal the word as the pads of your thumbs meet.

Unbeknownst to the both of you Jay stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he watched the two of you go back to decorating the cake. His eyes gleamed with adoration that if anyone had been looking in from the outside they would say that he quite literally had stars shining in his eyes. One would say that he was lovesick, the other would say he was a fool, but Jay didn’t care. If loving his fiance and children made him a love-sick fool, then so be it.

He watched the two of you discuss where to put the small edible flowers on the cake for a few more moments until he finally pushed himself off of the door frame. Walking further into the room, he watched his footsteps so the floorboards wouldn’t make too much noise.

“How are my favorite girls?” His voice filled the room, causing both you and Minji to jump. Turning around quickly, with your hand over your heart, you looked at Jay with wide eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be home until later.

Minji looks over at her dad with a huge smile on her lips before jumping from the stool, almost tripping, scaring the life out of you and Jay. However, she catches herself before making a beeline for Jay.

“Daddy!” She screamed as she ran into Jay’s awaiting arms, wrapping her arms tightly around Jay’s neck as he wrapped his around her smaller body. When he picked her up, Minji started to giggle, burying her face in Jay’s neck.

“How was your day princess?” Jay asked the small girl as she pulled away to look at him with wide, twinkling eyes. She starts to tell him about all of the stuff that you and her had been doing all day causing a smile to spread on your lips, watching the two of them. “Have you been listening to your mama?” Jay pokes her belly causing Minji to burst out in a fit of giggles before nodding her head and looking over at you just as you started to walk towards them.

A silly smile spread on Jay’s lips as he watched you waddle over to the two of them, your hand lying softly on the top of your baby bump. It still baffles him to this day that you have given him a second chance, even if it has been three years since then. Now he’ll get to call you his wife soon and you’re carrying his child. He will probably forever wonder whether or not this was all some dream, but if it was, he hoped it was one that he would never wake up from.

“She’s been good, she’s always good, Jay.” You smile softly as he wraps his arm around your waist the moment you’re within arm's reach.

“I’m just worried about leaving her alone with you right now,” He tells you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head as you wrap your arm around his torso. You rolled your eyes playfully before looking up to meet his gaze.

“I’m seven months pregnant, Jay, not handicapped.” 

“I know, but I’m still gonna worry regardless.” He stared down at you, taking in your features. The way your hair that was pulled back into a messy bun was starting to come undone resulting in a few stray pieces falling and framing your face. The small specks of frosting that somehow got onto your cheeks, then your pretty pink lips that were coated in a thin layer of lip gloss. Noticing his gaze, you reached up to move a strand of hair that had fallen out of place, snapping him out of his little trance. Smiling softly, he leans down to kiss the top of your head once more.

Minji started poking his shoulder, trying to gain his attention, “Daddy, guess what?” Jay turned his attention back to his daughter as she smiled widely at him, her small body shaking in excitement. “We made a cake for you!” She exclaimed, pointing over at the unfinished cake that still sat on the counter.

Smiling, you looked over at her before moving to meet Jay’s gaze once more as he looked over. “It’s not done yet; we weren’t expecting you to be back so soon.”

“Ah well,” Jay chuckled, tightening his hold on the both of you, “I managed to get boss to let me off early so I could spend the rest of the day with my favorite girls.”

His words made your heart twist. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but just hearing how he would much rather spend every waking second of the day with you and Minji made you realize that you truly had picked the best man alive.

Minji wiggles her way out of Jay’s arms before grabbing his hand and dragging him over to where the cake was, leaving you to stand there and watch with a fond smile. The young girl went on to explain everything about what the cake looked like and how she wanted to decorate it for him. She then looked up at him, her face as bright as the sun saying that she hopes that he likes it when she finishes it.

“I love it already, Min.” He promised, patting the top of her head before she climbed back onto her stool to finish decorating.

You watch for a moment long before turning and walking over to the stove to finish cooking dinner. Noticing movement from the corner of his eye Jay looks over at you, seeing you pick up the ladle, your other hand propped on your hip. 

With one last pat to his daughter's head, he makes his way over to you, grabbing the ladle from your hand, causing you to look up at him.

“I’ve got it, bug; you should help Min finish the cake.” He looked at you with a soft smile, but you knew that arguing with him would just be useless, so you just shook your head, a smile pulling on the corner of your lips. Moving out of the way you allow him to take your previous stance, but you don’t move very far, eyes still on Jay, watching as he gets back into his element.

Seeing that you hadn’t gone anywhere and still stood in the same place Jay turned his head slightly before reaching a hand out to lay his palm flat on your swollen belly. His thumb rubs your skin soothingly through the fabric of your shirt as you move your hand to lay it on top of his, the light gleaming off of the diamond that laid on your ring finger.

Pulling your attention away from your hands, you let your eyes trail up until they met his, searching his orbs as the light reflected off of them. You had always loved his eyes. They always seemed dark at first glance, but upon closer inspection, they were a shade of your favorite chocolate, a beautiful color in your eyes.

“Thank you.” Jay breaks the silence; however, his words just leave you staring at him confused. You open your lips, asking what he meant and he just smiles sweetly, his gaze full of such love that it leaves you weak in the knees. “I am beyond thankful for you, bug; you’re always there for Minji and me. Thankful for everything that you have done for us. And I will forever be thankful that you gave me another chance because now I have the family that I’ve always thought about.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping to keep the tears that had pooled in your eyes at bay. His words made your heart flutter, beating against your ribs in such a manner that you were sure that your face was red. Your hand moved faster than your brain, smacking his chest softly with a playful glare adorning your face.

“Stop trying to make me cry, asshole.” You grumbled lowly, not wanting Minji to hear you.

Jay couldn’t help but laugh before laying the ladle down so he could turn and engulf your smaller body in his arm, pulling you as close as he could with your pregnant belly in the way.

He presses a kiss to your forehead with a smile, “I’m sorry, love.”

Just then, a loud crash was heard throughout the whole kitchen, causing you to jump in Jay’s arms. Small curses left your lips, causing him to chuckle. Before the two of you looked over at the little girl, who was looking down at the fallen bowl with wide eyes, the spatula not too far from it. There were small specks of frosting all over her face and a few bigger splotches around her mouth and chin.

“Whoops.” As soon as the word fell from Minji’s lips, both you and Jay burst out laughing, the little girl not too far behind you.

The two of you then separated, moving towards Minji to help clean her up. “I’ve got her,” you told Jay. He was quick to grab your upper arm, ready to protest, but you turned and pressed the pads of your fingers to his lips, shushing him. "You just cook dinner; I’ve got her.”

Jay grabbed your wrist, pulling your fingers away from his mouth before placing a gentle kiss on the skin of your palm, muttering a small ‘okay’ before releasing his hold.

He watches as you walk over to the sink to grab a clean rag from the drawer next to it before wetting it with warm water. You then turn to the little girl as she tilts her face towards you, already knowing what was coming.

“So, did you like the frosting?” You teased her, gently wiping the leftover frosting from her cheeks. 

Minji giggled but nodded her head nonetheless, “I did! It was really sweet, though.” The girl exclaimed with a tight-lipped smile as you wiped down her chin.

Once her face was completely wiped off, you moved to pick up the bowl off the ground, but Minji was quick to hop off the stool, shouting that she’d got it. A sweet, wide smile spread on your lips as you watched her scoop up the bowl and spatula in her arms before turning and handing them to you.

Jay watched from the side with an adoring gleam in his eyes, knowing that Minji was already going to be a great big sister despite the almost six year difference.

“Thank you, love.” You thanked the child as you took the dishes from her outstretched arms and placed them in the sink to wash later.

The two of you then go back to decorating the cake—well, more like Minji is decorating it, and you’re just there to supervise so she doesn't make too big of a mess while Jay finishes dinner. The only sound filling the comfortable space around the three of you was the soft tunes that Jay was humming.

~

After dinner was done Jay gathered all of the dishes, ignoring your protests for him to let you do it. Realizing you weren’t going to win this fight, you just opted to help him clean them, which even took a bit of convincing. Finally giving in, Jay allowed you to dry the dishes off before placing them back in the cabinet. Even Minji found a way to help by standing next to Jay and pointing out all of the spots that he missed on some of the dishes, causing you to laugh softly as Jay faked a shocked expression every time.

He’d do anything if it meant that a smile would fall on either of his girls' faces.

Once the dishes were finally done, Minji started to hop around the dining table with a huge smile on her face. She then came to a halt in front of you, grabbing your hand and looking up to meet your awaiting eyes.

“Can we get the cake and presents out now?” she asked hurriedly, gently swinging your arm, causing you to chuckle and nod. However, Jay looked at you with wide, shocked eyes.

“You didn’t have to get me anything; being with the three of you is more than enough.”

You roll your eyes softly, “No, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Plus, Min has been excited to get you something.” You tell him, and the little girl by your side starts to nod her head violently, causing you to let out a small laugh. " Plus, it is your special day after all.”

Jay relented with a sigh, knowing that he wouldn’t be winning this fight, definitely not with the excited look that adorned his little girl’s face. So he sat down at the table, watching as the two of you walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later with the gifts in hand.

Coming back to the table, you took Minji's gift and set them both down on the table in front of Jay. Minji then clung to your side, her head resting on the side of your tummy, eyes on her dad as he thanked both of you.

Jay grabs the gift from Minji first, pulling out the stuffing paper and reaching inside. A wide smile pulls on his lips as he pulls out a cute coffee mug that was littered with little doodles that Minji had scribbled on them. Jay took a few moments to inspect every drawing on the cup, seeing butterflies, puppies, her name, as well as both yours and Jay’s names, as well as a bunch of other random doodles. With a stupid smile on his lips, he sat the cup down before grabbing the homemade card that she had made for him. He once again took his time reading it, relishing in the way that despite Minji being only five her spelling and handwriting were amazing.

When he was done reading the card, he sat it down next to the cup before turning to look over at Minji, who still had a hold of your hand, eyes on him. Jay held a hand out for the small child, and she rushed over to him without an ounce of hesitation, wrapping her arms around him.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” She exclaimed, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him with a toothy grin.

“Thank you, baby girl.” He returned her goofy smile before pressing a kiss on her forehead, causing her eyes to flutter close, but the smile never left her lips. 

Once Jay pulled away from her, Minji climbed onto his lap, quickly getting comfortable before looking over at you. Walking over, you place your hand on the back of Jay’s chair, watching as Jay reaches forward, grabbing the other small gift bag. 

Jay throws a quick glance at you when he pulls a small ring box out, his eyebrows furrowed. He has a small feeling that he already knows what it is, or, well, more along the lines of what it could be. Your lips curl inward, trying to fight off the smile as you usher him to open it.

Opening the small box, Jay’s eyes go wide as he sees a ring sitting inside. However, it wasn’t just any ring. No, it was the right that he had been contemplating getting a few months back but decided not to. He was sure that you didn’t know about it, knowing how you are when he refuses to buy anything for himself, so how did you find out?

“What? How-”

You let out a laugh, hand moving to his shoulder, “Babe, you have a bad habit of not closing tabs when you’re done with them.”

Jay just chuckles with a small chuckle, “Yeah, you’re right.” He agreed before looking back down at the ring when he noticed how antsy Minji was in his lap. Asking if something was the matter she just shook her head before pointing to the piece of jewelry and telling him to look at the inside. 

Confused, he takes the piece of jewelry out of the case before inspecting it. His eyes then go wide when he realizes that there are names inscribed on the inside of the band. Minji and Joonhee. Both of his little girls’ names.

“I knew how much you wanted something with the girls’ names on it, so when I saw the ring, I found a perfect solution.” You smiled sweetly at him as he looked up at you with literal stars shining in his eyes, making your heart flutter.

“Thank you, baby.” He spoke softly, biting back tears, but then he realized that he hadn’t seen your name with the girls’. “But where’s your name?”

You shook your head, telling him that you weren’t sure about adding your name, so you decided not to. Jay waved it off before saying that he’d go within the next few days to add your name.

“I want all of my girls’ names on there. Especially my wife and mother of my children.” His voice was sweet along with his words which easily brought tears to your eyes. You had wondered what you had done in your past life for you to deserve such a caring man like Jay.

You weren’t able to hold your tears this time resulting in them starting to fall down your cheeks.

“God dammit, Jay, I told you not to make me cry.” You curse him, trying to wipe the tears from your face, but it proves pointless as more just replaced the ones you had wiped away.

Jay chuckles softly before laying the ring back inside the box and grabbing Minji to pick her up once more. Hoisting the little girl on his hip as he stood, he wrapped his other arm around you, pulling your body into his, creating a small group hug.

“I love you both so so much.” He whispered, inhaling through his nose to keep his own tears at bay before pressing a kiss to Minji’s forehead. The little girl squealed with giggles, smiling at Jay when he pulled before leaning forward and pressing a kiss of her own on his cheek.

“I love you too, Jay, so much.” You responded to him as his eyes fell back on yours.

He leaned down, sealing your lips with his in a soft, gentle kiss, his hand on your jaw, angling your face for better access. After a few moments, the both of you pulled away with smiles adorning both of your faces.

Then you remembered the cake, quickly wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks, and smiled brightly at both Jay and Minji.

“Alright, who wants cake?” As soon as those words fell from your lips, Minji exclaimed loudly that she did, wiggling in Jay’s arms, causing you both to burst out laughing once more.

~

When the three of you were done with the cake, you all settled in the living room. You were lying between Jay’s legs, your back pressed against his chest, while Minji was curled up in your lap, using your baby bump as a pillow while the three of you watched movies.

It wasn’t too long before Minji fell asleep on your lap, her arms hanging loosely at her side while her face was smooshed against your belly. You cooed softly, brushed the hair out of her face watching her sleep for a few moments until a yawn tore through your lips.

“I think it’s time to call it a night; what do you say, bug?” Jay asked softly, his lips pressed against the back of your head.

Before you could even speak, you were cut off by a yawn answering Jay’s question. Laughing softly he maneuvered his way out from behind you so he could pick the sleeping child up.

“Noooo…” Minji whined sleepily as Jay pulled her from your lap, but as soon as her head laid on Jay’s shoulder, she was out once more.

Both of you laughed quietly before you moved to get off the couch, but Jay was quick to hold his hand out. Smiling up at him, you placed your smaller hand in him, allowing him to hoist you to your feet with little to no struggle.

You thanked him before the three of you made your way to Minji’s room to settle her before making it back to your room.

Settling down in bed, Jay reaches over to lay his hand on top of your baby bump once more. However, this time, the baby kicks, causing the both of you to laugh softly. He then leans over, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Your hand finds his cheek, thumb brushing his skin gently, realizing his warmth.

Pulling away, he lays his forehead against yours, breathing softly through his nose, “Thank you, again, for everything.” He thanked you for the nth time that night causing you to giggle softly before reaching forward to cup his face in both hands, kissing him once more.

“I would do anything and everything for you Jay,” You smiled as he sealed your lips in yet another kiss, all of his love and adoration seeping out as he kissed you deeply this time.

Pulling away, he moved down to your belly, fingers caressing the skin that was peeking out from the bottom of your, well, his shirt. You watched with soft eyes as he placed gentle kisses on the curve of your stomach.

“Don’t keep your mom up all night, alright.” He whispered against your skin, causing a silly smile to spread on your lips as you ran your fingers through his hair.

The two of you lay down after turning the lights off. Jay’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. He then kissed your shoulder, trailing his lips up until he got to your ear.

“I don’t know how I became the luckiest man on earth, but I will never take it for granted.” He whispered softly, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I promise that I will do whatever it takes to make sure you and our daughters are taken care of.” He then kissed the top of your head, “I love you so much, baby,”

You mumbled a soft ‘I love you too,’ sleep already consuming your mind as you were encased in Jay’s warmth.

“Good night, my love.” He whispered as you closed your eyes, falling asleep with your hand lying over his.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[everrinsly]

a/n; thank you for all the sweet, kind comments! i really like this version of suna. i finally finished this i started in uni haha when i had terrible back pain

and also every time i visit the motherland (not often :(, i always have to smuggle back some salonpas (they are for pain relief, comes in spray or patches), also reminds me of when fukunaga says nice toss, salonpas

blurred lines, best friend vibes.

kiss it better... with salonpas with suna. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

post-game suna is exhausted... and needy for salonpas, your touch, and maybe a kiss?

more suna here!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐🖤📱

The front door clicks open just after midnight. 

It’s quiet, almost cautious, but so heavy with the weight that always comes home with Suna after a game.

You're curled on the couch, the TV droning quietly with the low hum of some late-night ad reel. 

The sports channel had been playing his game earlier—replays, commentary, all the fast cuts and booming excitement worthy of national coverage. But it’s long ended, now reduced to a loop of shampoo commercials and cheap car deals.

Still, you leave it on.

You just liked the noise, the flicker of the screen, the soft glow casting shadows across the apartment. It made the place feel less empty, the sense that the apartment wasn’t completely still, and maybe less like you were waiting (even though you were). 

So when you hear heavy footsteps and a duffle bag dropped with a dull thump, your pulse reacts before your mind does.

He doesn’t say anything. He never really does when he’s wrung out from the celebrations, where the adrenaline’s burned out and his body finally realizes how hard it worked. 

You wait, heart thrumming quietly. And sure enough, a few seconds later, Suna rounds the corner and pads slowly into the living room. 

He’s in his EJP jacket—half-unzipped, exposing the edge of his gold jersey and the wet sheen on his collarbone. His hair is damp and messy, curled slightly at the ends (he probably gave up halfway through drying it).

He smells faintly like locker room sweat, floor resin, that tired musk of post-game exhaustion; but underneath it all, he smells like him, something so distinctly familiar, safe, warm… like home. 

His eyes land on you, hazy and unreadable.

“Hey,” you whisper softly, voice barely above the hum of the TV.

“Mm.” He nods and slinks toward you, dropping onto the couch besides you. 

You flinch a little when his head tips to the side and lands on your lap, heavy and warm and wholly unbothered by personal space. One arm dangles off the couch beside your legs and the other is awkwardly around your waist, pressed between your back and the cushion. 

He exhales long and slow. “Dead,” he mutters into your thigh.

You smile, hand hesitantly moving to brush through his hair, gentle fingers combing out the sweat-dried strands. “Looked like a tough match.”

“My whole body feels like it got hit by a truck,” he grumbles against your skin, lips ghosting where your shorts ride up your thigh. “Everything hurts.”

You scratch his scalp in sympathy. “You did dive into the bench during the third set.”

“Saved the ball,” he deadpans.

“Nearly broke your shoulders.”

“But I looked hot doing it.”

You laugh softly. God, he’s so—you don’t let yourself finish the thought.

(But yeah, he did look hot. There were already fan edits online that you definitely didn’t save to your phone... definitely not). 

“You should’ve left that save for Komori. He was lunging for it behind you.”

“He wouldn’t have made it,” he replies, twisting his face to look up at you now, brows furrowed in focus that meant he’s still analyzing, still replaying everyone’s moves in his head. “We had a shitty formation during that play.”

You hum softly, not agreeing or disagreeing, just letting the silence sit between you for a second. Then, with a small sigh, you lift your free hand and smooth it over his forehead, pushing his bangs back. 

“Stop thinking so hard,” you say, voice laced with fondness. “It’s just a thought... from lil’ old me, who doesn’t play volleyball and mostly watches games through 4K.”

That earns you a half-smile, lazy and crooked. You continue to run your fingers through his hair, and he closes his eyes for a second, like your touch is heavier than it is, grounding him.

There’s a beat of silence before you pick up the banter again. 

“You also didn’t even shower yet, stinky,” you tease. 

“You still let me use you as a pillow though.”

“You always use me as a pillow.”

He looks smug. “‘Cause you’re comfy.”

You roll your eyes, fingers drifting lower, brushing along the curve of his neck until they find the thin silver chain resting against his collarbone. You trace it lazily, just touching, feeling.

He groans softly. "Keep doing that."

You know his signs—when he’s too tired to joke, too sore to sit up, too worn out to hide how much his body aches.

So you say, soft and careful, “Want me to put some Salonpas on your back?”

Suna doesn’t answer right away. He just shifts, turning a bit to rest his cheek against your inner thigh, face angled toward your stomach. His eyes are half-lidded, lashes casting shadows. 

He breathes you in before he speaks. “Only if you kiss it better.”

Your fingers freeze in his hair. “Absolutely not.”

“Cold.”

Your heart is doing something strange, fluttery and traitorous and too loud for a moment like this.

But you cover it with a scoff and reach for the little drawer on the side table, where you keep all the ‘just-in-case’ things: band-aids, lint rollers, and of course, Salonpas—because of course you do; you’ve lived with him long enough to expect these nights. 

You’re halfway through peeling open the box when you hear him murmur, voice low and drowsy. “Not the patches.”

You pause. “Hmm?”

He shifts again, tilting his head just enough to glance up at you from his spot in your lap. His lips curl in that faint smirk that always makes your chest feel tight.

“Use the spray,” he says, voice light. “Feels better when you rub it in.”

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. “You mean it feels better when I touch you.”

He doesn’t even pretend to deny it, only shrugs. “Don’t be weird about it.”

You let out a quiet, flustered huff, ducking back into the drawer and digging past the clutter for the familiar blue can. Your fingertips close around the cool metal, and you hold it up with a pointed look.

“Gross behavior,” you mutter.

“Not gross,” he mumbles into your thigh. “Just honest.”

You roll your eyes and pat his cheek, signaling for him to fully turn. When he shifts face down on your lap, you tug his jacket and jersey up by the hem. 

He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch, just lets you pull it halfway up his back until the cool air hits skin.

And then your breath catches.

His back is a mess of tension—taut lines and overworked muscles, a constellation of bruises blooming faintly across his ribs and shoulder blades, and deep, dull splotches where he must’ve collided, where he must’ve hit the ground hard.

It’s the kind of damage that doesn’t show on the scoreboard.

You swallow, pressing your lips together. You hadn’t realized he’d taken this many hits today.

You hesitate with the can in your hand, eyes scanning the bruised dip of his waist.

And for a second, you forget the banter, the teasing back-and-forth that always makes these nights feel easier. All you can feel is that soft, aching throb in your chest: the part of you that wants to press your hand to every mark and ask if it hurts, the part that always hurts with him, and for him, even when you try not to.

Then, before your brain can catch up with your mouth, something small but so honest slips out.

“…Just one,” you whisper. “One kiss.”

It’s barely louder than a breath. You’re not even sure he hears it.

But then his back rises and falls with a slow exhale, and the smirk in his voice is unmistakable.

“Thought you said absolutely not.”

You glare at the back of his head before softly pinching his ear. “Do you want the kiss or not?”

“I want ten.”

“You’re getting one.”

You lean down before you can change your mind, pressing a soft kiss just beside the worst bruise along his upper back. It’s barely anything, just the lightest warmth of your mouth against his skin, but it's enough for him to let out a sigh.

You shake the can, the rattle filling the space between you, and then spray a gentle stripe down the curve of his spine. He stiffens at the initial contact.

But when your hand meets his skin—gentle, deliberate with care, spreading the spray in soft, gliding circles—you feel it.

The way his breath holds. The way his muscles relax. The way his body eases.

He wants your hands on him even when he doesn’t hurt; he needs your touch more than he lets on.

“You always want to be spoiled,” you murmur, smoothing your palm over the tension at the small of his back. Your voice is quiet, but the affection in it sneaks through anyway, soft around the edges.

“Only by you,” he replies casually. His voice vibrates low against your thigh, slightly muffled, but the weight still lands sharp.

You freeze for a split second, not at what he said because he’s always saying things like that, but at how easily it slips out, how much it doesn’t sound like a joke.

Your hand lingers where it rests, fingers spread lightly over the dip of his spine. His skin is warm beneath your palm, the faint rise and fall of his breath slow, steady, too calm for the way your heart is tripping over itself.

You shouldn’t. You always say that. And then you do it anyway.

You lean forward and press one more kiss—just one—below his shoulder blade. It's slower this time, softer. Your lips drag a little against his skin, and you stay there, lingering for a beat too long.

His breath hitches, just slightly.

“Fuck yes, angel,” Suna mumbles, voice a little hoarse, like it caught in his throat.

You pull back, cheeks warm, and immediately reach for his hair again—fingers threading through the dark strands before giving a firm tug in retaliation, not too hard but just enough to make a point.

"I'm gonna rip you bald."

"...Kinky."

[riddlesrizzler]

Tackled at the Tailgate

summary: Who knew tailgates could be romantic? characters: frat bro! mattheo. sweetheart! reader. frat boy! slytherin boys warnings: mentions of alcohol word count: 1.7k

By the time the morning light spilled across the lawn of Sigma Nu, the world had already shifted.

Sunlight broke through the clouds in soft golden beams, casting a honeyed glow over the dew-slick grass, which shimmered like it had been kissed by stardust overnight. The entire street pulsed with an undercurrent of excitement-a barely-contained buzz in the air, like the seconds before a storm breaks, only this storm smelled like beer, cheap cologne, fresh-cut grass, and something distinctly electric.

Banners flapped in the breeze, fraying slightly at the edges, their bold letters spray-painted in colors that had long since faded from too many seasons of tailgate glory. Empty cans rattled down sidewalks like windblown tumbleweeds, pushed by the same breeze that carried the bass thrum of music into the sky. The Sigma Nu snake, regal and coiled, stared down from every flagpole and cooler with a smug kind of pride-an unspoken dare to any other frat who thought they could compete.

Mattheo Riddle stood at the edge of it all-silent, composed, watchful. His broad shoulders tensed beneath a charcoal gray hoodie already dusted with grass stains and pollen, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing strong forearms inked with memories and mischief. He sipped slowly from a red Solo cup, watching pledges scurry with folding tables and speaker cords like ants desperate to impress their queen.

He didn’t speak often during tailgate setup, but when he did, his voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

“If that table wobbles,” he called, not even looking up from his drink, “and she spills anything-you're walking home from this tailgate.”

They knew exactly who she was.

And then-like a scene written by fate-she arrived.

Her glitter-dusted Jeep pulled up in a swirl of sunlight and dust, the engine humming like the opening chord of a favorite song. She stepped out like the universe had slowed down to watch. Cooler in one hand, sunglasses perched on the tip of her nose, a cropped Alpha Delta Pi jersey tied at the waist, and white sneakers so clean they glowed. A dainty gold necklace glinted at her collarbone, catching the light with every step she took.

The Sweetheart of Sigma Nu.

The crowd shifted as if pulled by her gravity. A few girls waved, a few boys tripped over themselves trying to offer help, and one pledge abandoned an entire stack of plates just to grab her cooler. She moved through it all like she was born for this moment-composed, radiant, the kind of beautiful that didn’t feel real unless you were lucky enough to see it in motion.

Mattheo’s smirk betrayed him before his words could. He didn’t move to greet her. He didn’t need to. She was already walking toward him.

“Morning, Sweetheart,” a voice called.

“Morning, boys,” she replied, her laugh dancing through the air like wind chimes.

She passed Mattheo with a sideways glance and the ghost of a smirk-one he knew was meant only for him. And when she winked, like a secret shared across a battlefield of red cups and dented coolers, something settled in his chest. Something heavy. Something familiar.

By noon, the party was in full bloom. The Sigma Nu lawn had become a tapestry of noise and motion and color. Cornhole bags flew lazily through the air, music spilled from truck beds and balconies, and someone had tied gold streamers to the backs of barstools just because it looked festive. The air smelled like sunscreen, hot dogs, and something that would become nostalgic in later years.

The porch was a patchwork of peeling paint and sun-faded frat pillows, but she made it look like a throne.

Tucked into the corner of a battered couch, legs folded beneath her like a cat in the sun, she had Mattheo’s Sigma Nu hoodie wrapped loosely around her shoulders-its sleeves pushed up to reveal delicate wrists stacked with beaded bracelets and a faint smear of glitter along her forearm. Her cheeks were flushed with heat and laughter, eyes half-lidded behind oversized sunglasses as she sipped lazily from a half-empty Solo cup.

The chaos of the tailgate buzzed around her-music pulsing from the lawn, someone yelling about a lost frisbee, Blaise singing off-key into a broomstick-but she sat above it all, untouched and glowing. Like she belonged to a slower, sweeter world tucked just out of reach.

Mattheo returned from the grill, balancing a paper plate in one hand, condensation dripping from a cold can of Sprite in the other.

“Figured you’d forget to eat,” he said, holding out the plate.

On it: a cheeseburger-perfectly seared, still steaming, bun slightly smushed at the edges-and a handful of chips with no napkin in sight.

She blinked up at him, lips parted in surprise. “Wait… did you just voluntarily bring me food?”

“I know,” he said, deadpan. “Call the Pope.”

She laughed as she scooted over, patting the seat beside her with the heel of her palm. “Did you make it?”

“Watched it cook. That’s close enough.”

He dropped down beside her, his thigh brushing hers. The couch groaned under his weight, the springs protesting like they knew exactly what kind of tension they were holding.

She peeled back the foil all the way, the smell hitting her immediately-grilled onions, melty cheese, that warm toasted-bread comfort. Her stomach growled audibly.

Mattheo smirked. “Told you.”

“Fine,” she said, breaking the burger in half and handing him a piece. “You can stay.”

“Lucky me.”

They ate in companionable silence for a moment, the kind that only came with familiarity-the kind built on midnight study sessions, long walks back from parties, and whispered confessions on rooftops no one else knew how to find.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, laughing when Mattheo offered the corner of his sleeve.

“Gross,” she said, but used it anyway.

“I’m a man of many talents,” he murmured.

“Apparently. Grill master. Sleeve provider. Sweetheart handler.”

His expression softened, gaze dipping to her lips before he quickly looked away. “I don’t handle you. That would be impossible.”

She smiled down at the burger like it was suddenly the most interesting thing on earth. “You’d be surprised.”

A gust of wind tugged at the streamers tied to the porch rail. She shivered, more from the weight of the moment than the breeze, and instinctively curled closer to him. The hoodie smelled like him-cologne and soap and bonfire smoke, earthy and warm and unmistakably him.

He leaned back, arm stretched lazily across the back of the couch, fingers barely grazing her shoulder.

“You always show up like that,” he said suddenly.

“Like what?”

“Like a goddamn movie scene. That Jeep rolling up. That laugh. The sunglasses. The glitter.” He turned his head slightly, eyes finding hers. “You wreck the whole party in three seconds flat.”

She didn’t answer right away. She couldn’t.

Instead, she looked down at her half-eaten burger, heart thudding against her ribs like it wanted out.

“I never know what to say when you talk like that,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, just as soft. “You’re already the best part of my day.”

The game played on somewhere in the background, Theo screaming at the radio, Blaise doing a keg stand for no reason other than the crowd had started to chant his name. Enzo ran laps around the lawn with a Sigma Nu flag billowing behind him like he was leading a charge into war.

But on the porch, time folded in.

And for a moment, it was just them. Sharing a burger on a broken couch, wrapped in sun and shadows and something that felt dangerously close to forever.

But Mattheo stayed seated, eyes on her.

Until the football came flying.

It landed with a soft thud beside her sneakers, rolling to a stop like it knew it had found the most important person on the lawn.

“Oh no,” she said, holding her drink like it was fine china. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re playing,” Theo shouted. “House rule!”

“I bruise like a peach,” she argued, already laughing.

“Two-hand touch!” Blaise yelled back. “We’re not monsters!”

“Let me guess,” she said, standing. “If I’m playing, Mattheo is too?”

Mattheo arched a brow and drained the rest of his drink. “Obviously.”

The teams formed quickly, lines drawn in the grass with crushed cup borders and sun-faded frat shirts.

Mattheo stood behind her as quarterback, fingers brushing her waist to guide her forward.

“Run left,” he whispered near her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “I’ll find you.”

She shivered. Not from cold.

The game was glorious chaos-wild laughter, tangled limbs, and the kind of fake competitiveness that comes from people who know each other too well. She juked left, then right, her laughter ringing out every time someone missed a tag. Her cheeks flushed with sunlight and adrenaline, her eyes bright and wild.

Then she ran straight into Mattheo’s arms.

He caught her easily, one hand around her waist, the other bracing her fall. They tumbled into the grass like a moment suspended in amber-time slowing as they landed in a mess of limbs and breathlessness.

She was beneath him, wide-eyed, laughing. Grass tangled in her hair. The sun turning her into a painting.

“Did I win?” she breathed.

He smirked, leaning over her, weight balanced on his elbows. “You always do.”

She stared up at him, and for one long moment, the party faded-voices distant, the world blurry around the edges.

He brushed a blade of grass from her cheek.

“Do you ever think,” he murmured, “we’re just… meant to end up in moments like this?”

Her breath caught. “You mean sweaty, grass-stained, and slightly concussed?”

He laughed, soft and full. “Something like that.”

The cheers called them back-Theo yelling about penalties, someone screaming about a pizza delivery.

Mattheo stood and offered her his hand.

She took it.

Their fingers threaded together, instinctive now.

As he pulled her to her feet, their laughter trailing behind them like confetti in the wind, neither of them noticed the way the sun dipped lower, casting everything in a golden haze.

It had started as just another tailgate.

But the way he looked at her-like she was a secret only he knew, like she was already his and just didn’t realize it yet-told a different story.

One that wasn’t finished.

One that was only just beginning.