#that makes it impossible for him to 'just help'

[flowersforbucky]

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[guiltyc0nscience]

⋆˙⟡ behind the frames, matt sturniolo

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis. in which while making out with matt, his glasses get in the way and you have to take them off mid make-out.

warnings. making out, matt with glasses (loml)

word count. 837 words.

authors note. i’ve been waiting to write about matt with glasses for so long.

the soft hum of the fan filled matt’s room, blending with the occasional muffled laughter from nick and chris who were in the kitchen. you were perched on his bed, leaning against the headboard, your legs stretched out while matt sat next to you, his knee bent and his other leg stretched out. his phone was in his hand, his thumb idly scrolling, but it seemed like he wasn’t paying attention to it. his glasses rested low on the bridge of his nose, catching the warm glow of the bedside lamp.

you couldn’t help but stare at him. the way his dark hair fell messily across his forehead, the way his glasses added a sharpness to his otherwise soft features—it was unfair how good he looked without even trying.

he must have felt your gaze because he glanced up from his phone, one eyebrow raising slightly. “what?”

“nothing,” you said quickly, but you couldn’t fight the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

he tilted his head, his lips quirking into that signature smirk that made your stomach flip. “doesn’t seem like nothing.”

you shrugged and rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

matt set his phone down, darting his tongue out to wet his lips as his smirk grew. “alright, spill it. what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

for a moment, you hesitated, but then you let the truth slip out. “just how good you look in those glasses.”

his eyes widened slightly, and then he laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “oh, yeah?”

you nodded, a little bashful but unable to look away from him.

before you could second-guess yourself, he leaned in, his hand settling on your thigh as he brought his face closer to yours. his lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, but when you didn’t pull back, he pressed in deeper.

the kiss was slow and unhurried, as though he wanted to savour every second of it. his lips were soft, and the faint smell of his cologne made your head spin. your hands reached out instinctively reached out, fingering tangling into his shirt as you tugged him closer.

matt shifted, his hands going to your hips and before you knew it, he was pulling you onto his lap. you straddled him without a second thought, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him.

he hummed against your lips, his hands sliding up your back and settling there, holding you close as the kiss deepened. his glasses pressed slightly against your face, a faint distraction from the way his mouth moved against yours. his fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

your hands slid up into his hair, threading through the soft strands and tugging lightly. he let out a quiet groan at the sensation, and it sent a shiver down your spine. you felt his breath hitch as you tilted your head, deepening the kiss even more.

but the glasses—they were still there, slightly crooked now from the intensity of the kiss. they pressed awkwardly against your nose, making you pull back for just a second. matt’s blue eyes opened, his pupils blown wide, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

“what’s wrong? did i do something?” he asked, his voice husky but soft.

“no, no. it’s just your glasses.” you murmured, your hands slipping from his hair to gently slide the black frames off his face.

matt blinked as you set them aside on the nightstand, his now-unobstructed eyes meeting yours. without the lenses in the way, his gaze felt raw, vulnerable, and so ridiculously intimate that it made your heart skip a beat.

“they were in the way,” you added softly, your thumb brushing against his jaw.

his lips quirked up into a small smile. “guess i’ll allow it.”

you barely had time to laugh before he pulled you back in, his hands cupping your face as his lips captured yours again. this time, it was more urgent, his kisses deeper, hungrier, like he’d been holding back and couldn’t anymore.

his hands slid down to your hips, his fingers digging in just enough to send a spark through you. you shifted slightly in his lap, and the movement drew a low groan from him, one that made your cheeks burn and your stomach turn in the best way.

"do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he murmured, his voice low and rough as his hands gripped your waist.

"what am i doing?" you teased, your voice breathless, your lips brushing against his.

he chuckled softly, the sound deep and almost wicked. "driving me insane," he muttered, his lips trailing along your jaw. his hands slid lower, gripping your hips as he pulled you even closer, the movement sending heat rushing through your body. "i can't stop thinking about you," he admitted, his voice dropping even further as his eyes met yours, dark with desire. "the way you kiss me, the way you touch me…i need you so badly. you don't even realize what you're doing to me."

the intensity of his words made your breath catch, and before you could respond, he kissed you again, harder this time, his hands guiding your movements as if he couldn't get enough. the rest of the world faded away as you melted into him, every touch, every kiss igniting something deeper between you.

[dollishmehrayan]

# CHRISTMAS TREE DECORATING AND CHAOS ── .✦ ( decorating trees with batboys ‘separated’! ⋆౨ৎ

a/n: I literally feel so happy genuinely now, I guess my mental health is getting better && anyways i have 64 requests to get to… i truly need to speed run through these but some I can’t do sadly 😭 so sorryy ᥫ᭡, tags: (batboys x fem!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

The king of enthusiasm: As soon as you suggest decorating the tree together, he’s all in.

“We’re going for the most extra tree Gotham has ever seen!” He wants it tall enough to touch the ceiling and glittery enough to blind someone.

He’s the guy who insists on climbing to the very top to put on the star, even though he wobbles dangerously on the ladder.

Sings Christmas songs (terribly off-key he’s also like tone deaf and beat deaf it’s a curse to hear him sing something at karaoke) while you decorate, complete with dramatic twirls and spins around the tree.

Accidentally tangles himself in the lights at least twice. “I’m fine, I’m fine! I was just… testing the durability!”

Insists on taking a million photos of you with the finished tree, calling you his “Christmas angel.”

When it’s all done, he dims the lights, wraps an arm around you, and whispers, “This might be my favorite Christmas ever.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

He pretends to be indifferent. “Decorating a tree? Sounds boring.” But the second you start, he’s invested.

He’s surprisingly good at untangling lights and getting them perfectly spaced on the tree. “What? I’ve got steady hands.”

Jason leans into more minimalistic decor deep reds, dark greens, and gold accents but he lets you take the lead. “You want glittery ornaments? Fine. But I draw the line at tinsel.” (he’s like those sad beige moms but with like dark traditional Christmas colors…)

Complains about how prickly the tree is the entire time but still helps you string popcorn garlands because he knows it makes you happy.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

He’s excited about decorating but is terrible at it. Tim tries, but he’s way better at figuring out the tech side of things (like synchronized tree lights) than actually hanging ornaments.

Spends 20 minutes untangling lights and another 20 trying to figure out why one strand isn’t working. “It’s science! There’s a method to this madness.”

He’s the type to sneak a caffeine break halfway through while you keep decorating. “What? I need fuel to focus!”

Insists on hanging some nerdy ornaments—little Batman logos, Star Wars-themed ones, or even a tiny Robin figurine.

When you get frustrated with his lack of artistic flair, he pulls you close and says, “Hey, at least I’m good company, right?”

After it’s all done, he insists on dimming the lights and turning on the synchronized tree music. “Look at that. A masterpiece.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Initially acts like it’s beneath him. “Why would I waste time decorating a tree?” But he ends up being surprisingly good at it.

Damian has an eye for symmetry, so every ornament has to be perfectly spaced. “No, that one is too close to the red one. Move it.”

If you mention that decorating the tree is a nostalgic tradition for you, he softens immediately. “Fine. But this had better be worth it.”

He refuses to wear a Christmas sweater, but you catch him smiling when you put on a ridiculous reindeer headband.

Titus gets involved, carrying around ornaments and wagging his tail, which Damian pretends to be annoyed by but secretly loves.

When the tree is finished, he stands back with his arms crossed, pretending not to care. But when you beam at him, he quietly says, “It looks… nice. I suppose this wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

(He buys like 40 ft Christmas trees for the main ball in the manor and like that’s almost impossible to decorate without professionals)

The ultimate perfectionist. He has a very clear vision for the tree, but he tries to let you take the lead. “It’s your tradition. I’ll follow your lead… mostly.”

Insists on using the tallest tree that will fit in Wayne Manor and hires a team to bring it in.

He’s all about elegant, classic decorations white lights, glass ornaments, and a tasteful tree topper. But if you want colorful lights or quirky ornaments, he’ll indulge you.

Offers to lift you up to reach the highest branches instead of letting you use a ladder. “I don’t need you breaking your neck before the gala.”

Alfred brings hot cocoa and cookies halfway through, smiling at how relaxed Bruce looks around you.

When the tree is done, he turns to you and says, “It’s perfect. Just like this moment.” Then he pulls you into a rare, heartfelt kiss under the twinkling lights.

[puckstories]

Boyfriend Headcannons | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Fluff, that's it I think. Edited only once.

Summary; What I think Quinn would be like as a boyfriend (:

Word Count; 3.1k

Author’s note; Enjoyed writing this so much, also considering writing a nsfw version if anyone would be interested. As per usual, any thoughts or reblogs are greatly appreciated (: -Honey

Boyfriend Quinn, who absolutely lives for affection.

He’s not always the most vocal about it, but the way he craves your touch, your kisses, your warmth—it’s in the little things he does. Quinn has this quiet, relaxed way of seeking affection that makes your heart swell every single time. He doesn’t always ask for it with words; most of the time, he doesn’t need to.

You’ve learned to recognize his silent cues by now. Whenever he wants a kiss, he won’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he’ll simply stop whatever he’s doing and turn toward you, his soft hazel eyes locking onto yours, and then he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly, his lips gently pouting in that way that’s both completely endearing and impossible to resist. He’ll just look at you with that silent, expectant expression, waiting patiently for you to indulge him, because he knows you almost always do.

And how could you not?

Sometimes, he’ll be subtle about it—like when you’re both curled up on the couch, watching a movie. You’ll feel him shift beside you, and when you glance over, there he is, his lips pushed out just a little, eyes soft and hopeful, his attention fully on you. It’s a request, his gentle way of saying, "Come here, kiss me." You’ll roll your eyes playfully, but inside, your heart melts every time. You lean in, pressing your lips against his, and you can feel the contentment in the way his body relaxes, the way his hand automatically finds yours and squeezes, as if thanking you without a single word spoken.

Other times, he’s a bit more bold, more obvious—like when you’re cooking in the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables or stirring something on the stove. You’ll be focused on whatever task you have at hand, and you won’t even notice him sneaking up behind you. He’ll come up and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, and before you even have a chance to say anything, you feel it. He presses his lips to your neck, soft and gentle, and then pulls away just enough to turn his face toward you, lips already slightly puckered, waiting. He doesn’t say a word, but his intentions are clear.

You’ll try to ignore him at first, teasing him, pretending you’re too busy with dinner to give in to his unspoken request. But he’s persistent. He’ll squeeze you a little tighter, nuzzle into your neck, maybe even let out a small, exaggerated sigh to get your attention. And when you finally turn your head, there he is again—pouty lips, soft eyes, silently waiting for the kiss he knows he’s going to get. You give in, every time. You can’t help it.

"Okay, okay," you’ll say with a laugh, turning your head to press your lips against his, giving him exactly what he wants. The way his lips curl into a smile against yours tells you just how satisfied he is.

It’s not just the way he asks for kisses, though. Quinn is equally generous when it comes to giving affection, and he loves surprising you with it at the most random times. You could be in the middle of reading a book or scrolling through your phone, completely absorbed, and suddenly, you’ll feel his presence beside you. He’ll lean in, wrapping his arms around you gently, his hands resting at your waist as he pulls you into a tight hug. No reason. No explanation. Just because he can. Just because he wants to.

And it’s those moments that catch you off guard the most—the way he showers you with love so effortlessly, so naturally. He never needs an excuse. For Quinn, giving you affection is as simple as breathing. It’s the way he expresses his love, the way he reminds you how much he adores you, even without saying a word.

It's in the way, he loves being close to you. He always finds a reason to touch you—whether it’s holding your hand, resting his head on your lap, or draping his arm over your shoulders when you’re sitting beside each other. He’s not clingy, but there’s a need for contact that’s just so Quinn—that gentle, understated craving for connection. And you’re always happy to give it to him, knowing that being close to you is where he feels most at home.

When he’s tired, he’s even more affectionate. After a long day of practice or a tough game, you’ll find him seeking you out the moment he steps through the door. He’ll drop his bag, kick off his shoes, and walk straight to you, wrapping you up in his arms without a word. He won’t even need to say he missed you, because the way he pulls you close, burying his face in your neck, says it all. And when he’s feeling particularly worn out, he’ll simply press his lips to your forehead or your cheek, a quiet sigh escaping him as he relaxes into your touch.

And then there are the nights when he’s lying next to you in bed, the room dark and quiet, both of you just on the edge of sleep. That’s when Quinn is at his softest. He’ll roll over, pulling you closer, his lips brushing over your temple or your shoulder, and you’ll feel his gentle pouting, his silent plea for one last kiss before he drifts off. You oblige him every time, pressing your lips to his in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, and he’ll hum contentedly, his body relaxing completely as sleep finally overtakes him.

Quinn never needs to say much when it comes to affection—his actions speak louder than words ever could. The way he seeks out your touch, the way he silently asks for your kisses, the way he gives so freely of himself—it’s all a testament to how deeply he loves you, how much he cares about you.

Boyfriend Quinn, who always does the little things for you.

It’s in the smallest, most thoughtful gestures that Quinn shows his love, the kinds of things that make your heart swell and remind you just how lucky you are to have him in your life.

Take winter, for example. As soon as the first snow starts to fall, Quinn’s mind is already on you—making sure you’re taken care of, even when it comes to something as simple as the driveway or your car. He hates the thought of you standing out in the freezing cold, shivering as you scrape ice off your windshield in the early morning before work. So, whenever he’s home and able to, Quinn is always up before you, dressed in his thick jacket and boots, quietly heading outside while you’re still bundled up in bed.

By the time you’re awake and getting ready for the day, the driveway is already clear, the snow neatly shoveled into piles, and your car’s windshield is free of snow and ice. It’s not something he ever makes a big deal about—he doesn’t even mention it, really. You’ll only realize what he’s done when you look out the window and see the work he’s put in, your breath fogging up the glass as you smile to yourself, heart warmed by his thoughtfulness.

You always try to thank him, but Quinn just waves it off like it’s no big deal. "I don’t mind," he’ll say with that soft smile of his. "I just want to make things a little easier for you." And that’s the essence of Quinn—he’s always thinking about how to make your life better, how to take even the smallest burdens off your shoulders, whether it’s clearing the snow or making sure you don’t have to start your day on the wrong foot.

Then, there are the flowers. Every week, without fail, Quinn makes sure to pick up your favorite flowers when he’s out. It’s not a grand gesture, not some big bouquet delivered to your door—just a simple bunch of fresh flowers that he knows will brighten your day. Sometimes, they’re the ones you’ve always loved: delicate peonies, bright sunflowers, or soft, fragrant roses, depending on the season. Other times, he surprises you with something different—wildflowers from the local market or a mix of colors that remind him of you.

The best part is always when he walks in with them, his face lighting up just as much as yours does when he sees your reaction. He loves the way your eyes widen and the way your lips curl into that smile he adores, the one that makes his whole day feel brighter. "You didn’t have to do that," you always say, even though you both know how much you love it when he does. And Quinn just shrugs, placing the flowers on the kitchen counter or the dining room table with an easy grin.

"I like seeing you smile," he says simply, as though that’s all the explanation he needs. And it is—because, to him, these little moments of joy he brings into your life are worth everything.

It’s the same when it comes to things like the dishes. Quinn is the type of boyfriend who doesn’t just pitch in around the house—he takes care of the things he knows you hate. Like dishes. You’ve always hated doing them. It’s that one chore that gets under your skin, and you’ve made it no secret that scrubbing pots and pans is not your idea of fun. Quinn knows this, and so even on nights when he’s the one who cooked dinner, he’ll always make sure to handle the cleanup, too.

"Go relax," he’ll say, waving you off when you try to help. "I’ve got this."

You’ll protest, of course—after all, he’s already done the cooking, and it doesn’t seem fair for him to do it all. But Quinn is stubborn in the best possible way. He’ll roll up his sleeves and start running the water, ignoring your half-hearted attempts to convince him otherwise.

"You hate doing dishes," he’ll remind you with a smile, "and I don’t mind them. Plus, you always do so much for me." And that’s Quinn—always thinking about balance, about making sure you’re taken care of. He knows how much you appreciate the little things, and to him, doing the dishes after dinner is just another way of showing he loves you.

And then, there are the texts. When Quinn’s away for away games, his schedule is packed, and the time zone differences don’t always work in your favor. But he never lets that stop him from staying connected with you. No matter how busy his day gets, no matter how late it is, he always makes sure to send you a good morning and goodnight text, without fail.

Sometimes they’re simple—“Good morning, baby. Hope you have a great day.”—just a little reminder that he’s thinking about you, even when he’s miles away. Other times, they’re more playful—“Wish I was in our bed, I miss your icicle feet”—a teasing note to keep things light even in the middle of a long road trip. And when he’s too tired to string together a full sentence, it’s just a quick “Miss you” with a heart emoji, but that’s all it takes to remind you how much he cares.

He’ll always send these texts right before he crashes into bed, no matter how late or how exhausted he is. And when you wake up in the morning, knowing he’s already thinking about you from wherever he is, it never fails to make your heart skip a beat. It’s the small things like this that mean the most—how, even in the chaos of his life, Quinn makes sure you know you’re never far from his mind.

Boyfriend Quinn, who loves taking you on dates.

Whenever he has an off day, the first thing that crosses his mind is you. He always makes sure to check in with you first, sending you a quick text during the day or giving you a call, gauging how your day is going and whether you’re feeling up for it.

"How's work today? Not too tired? Feel like going out later?"

You never have to guess if he's planning, because you know Quinn's always thinking about how to make the most of his time off with you. It’s his way of creating balance in his life, something steady and beautiful amidst the chaotic whirl of hockey schedules, travel, and games. And even if you’ve had a long day at work, the thought of spending the evening with him—of getting out of the house, hand-in-hand, with nowhere else to be but together—always gives you the energy to say yes.

Most of the time, the two of you keep things casual, finding comfort in the familiar. Your favorite go-to is a small diner just a short drive away, the kind of place that feels like a second home. The staff knows your names, and there’s always that corner booth waiting for you two, tucked away enough for a little privacy. It’s not fancy, but it’s yours. The menu is simple—burgers, fries, milkshakes—but it never fails to hit the spot after a long week. There’s something cozy about it, something that makes you both feel grounded. You’ll sit across from each other, sharing fries and talking about everything and nothing, laughing over inside jokes that no one else would get.

But occasionally, Quinn likes to change things up. There are times when, instead of texting you about grabbing dinner at the diner, he’ll tell you something a little different: “Dress fancy tonight. I’ve got a surprise for you.” You can almost hear the excitement in his voice, even over text.

When Quinn decides to take you somewhere nice, it’s an event. He puts thought into every detail, planning a reservation at a restaurant you both love but don’t visit often—maybe that elegant spot downtown with the candlelit tables and soft jazz playing in the background. He’s a romantic at heart, even if he doesn’t always show it in obvious ways. On those nights, he wants to make sure everything feels just a little more special.

One of the best parts is the little ritual the two of you have before your fancier dates. Even though you live together, Quinn always insists on getting ready in the guest bedroom, leaving you to get dressed in the room you share. It’s his way of adding an element of surprise, a way to keep things exciting. He loves the idea of seeing your outfit for the first time when you come downstairs, just like on your earlier dates, when everything was still new.

The guest bedroom becomes his own little prep space. He’ll spread out his suit jacket or freshly ironed button-down on the bed, taking his time to make sure everything looks just right. Quinn isn’t the type to obsess over his appearance, but on these nights, he pays a little extra attention to the details—whether it’s making sure his tie is perfectly knotted (though, he rarely wears one anymore) or his cologne is subtle but present. He knows how much you love when he dresses up, and honestly, he loves seeing that look in your eyes when you see him standing there, ready for the night.

Meanwhile, in your shared room, you’re just as focused, choosing the perfect dress and making sure your hair and makeup are done to perfection. There’s a thrill in getting ready separately, knowing that in just a few minutes, you’ll come downstairs and have that little moment of reveal. It’s a simple tradition, but it always makes the evening feel a bit more magical.

When you finally step out of the bedroom, your heart always flutters with anticipation. You make your way downstairs, and there he is—standing by the door, looking impossibly handsome in his suit or tailored shirt, his eyes brightening the moment they land on you. It’s like time stops for a second. Quinn’s not one to gush, but the way his lips part slightly and that small, slow smile spreads across his face says everything you need to know.

"Wow," he’ll say softly, his eyes taking you in as if he’s seeing you for the first time. "You look... amazing."

You can’t help but smile back, your cheeks warming at the compliment. "You clean up pretty well yourself," you’ll tease, though you can’t deny how much you love seeing him like this—dressed up, standing there with that look of admiration in his eyes.

He steps forward, closing the distance between you, and without a word, he’ll reach for your hand, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss—just a little gesture to avoid messing up your lipstick, but one that makes your heart skip a beat every time. It’s these small, quiet moments of affection that make Quinn’s love feel so real, so genuine.

And then, off you go, stepping out into the evening together, hand in hand, as the world seems to fall away. The restaurant is just a short drive, and the conversation flows easily between you, filled with laughter and teasing. When you arrive, the ambiance of the restaurant is perfect—low lighting, the hum of quiet conversations around you, and the soft clink of glasses and silverware. But for you, the real magic of the evening isn’t just the atmosphere or the delicious food—it’s the fact that you’re with him, that Quinn has gone out of his way to make this night special for no reason other than wanting to spend time with you.

Throughout the meal, he’ll reach across the table, his fingers brushing against yours, or he’ll lean in to whisper something that makes you laugh, that private smile playing on his lips. He loves these moments—the ones where it’s just the two of you, away from the rush of life, enjoying each other’s company in a way that feels intimate and timeless.

And when the night is over and you’re both back home, the magic of the evening doesn’t fade. Quinn always makes sure to cap off the date in the sweetest way possible. He’ll pull you in close, his arms wrapping around you as he presses a kiss to your forehead, whispering something like, "I had fun tonight," in that casual, endearing way of his.

[jmliebert]

Astarion Comforting You When You’re Sad

Astarion notices immediately when something is off. he’s usually the distant type, but with you, it’s different. seeing you upset is somehow unbearable

he approaches with a mix of impatience and concern, furrowing his brows as he says, “heavens, can you finally tell me what’s going on? or must I truly lose my mind trying to guess?”

doesn’t back down until you open up. for all his teasing, he won’t leave your side until you tell him what’s troubling you—even a little

if you try to brush off your feelings, he chides you: “darling, you’re awful at hiding things from me. don’t even try.” and it almost sound like a threat

but in reality he's just genuinely worried, and doesn't know how to cope with it

when you finally let it out, what starts with his characteristic intensity melts into something tender. his gaze shifts from piercing to understanding, something dangerously vulnerable flickering in his eyes as he listens

he’s uncharacteristically gentle. he holds you as you cry, his hand tracing soothing circles on your back. there’s no sarcasm, no biting humor- he's just being there for you

he could make a quip, sure. but he stops himself. he wants to be the person he once wished for during his times under cazador’s iron grip

so Astarion speaks softly, his words brimming with wisdom and the weight of centuries of experience. in those moments, you see just how old he truly is and how much he’s been through

if words aren’t what you need, he offers silence instead. he sits with you, holding your hand, as if to remind you that you’ll never be alone—not like he was, not ever

his touch is feather-light as he brushes away your tears, his thumb gliding gently across your cheeks. he caresses your hair, his other hand grazing your swollen lips as if lost in thought

and then comes that smile—the rare, quiet one he saves only for you, it hold a silent promise you see...

he draws a hot bath for the two of you, insisting it will help. with your head resting on his chest, you feel his arms around you, holding you close and your body unbend slowly

the water is warm, your pulse thrumming softly beneath your skin, and the scent of your blood is impossibly tempting. hunger gnaws at him, sharp and insistent, but he doesn’t say a word. wouldn’t dream of it—not when you’re like this

at night, he watches over you, cradling you softly and wishing you would never be sad like this ever again. if it were possible he would take all this pain of yours and bear it himself

because he loves you so much

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

hello dove, you can find more of my works about astarion ♡here♡

[falling-leafs-sunrays-wingspan]

(you inspired me, i am not disagreeing, it just looks different in my head) Kevin is so obsessed with Exy that he would see this as the best decision, Kevins favorite Exy team is the Trojans after all and not the Ravens and therefore i believe that making the best decisions for the game like the trojans do is way more important to Kevin than being number one as Riko always was, being the best does not mean being number one but being your best self, improving your own capabilities and for Kevin that doesn't mean being captain but being the best striker, i think you see it best with his discussion with neil about perfect goals, for neil it is about outsmarting the other players and for that he needs teamwork, he is extremly observent and understanding of other people which makes him the perfect captain neil can put his own beliefs and needs back to guide his team to win, if need be he can be a dealer, passing to Kevin or anyone with better chances, he can be a backliner obv, he is very appreciative of the work the goalies are putting into the game, being the last defense and protecting their backs, neil listens to the goalkeepers, asks for their opinion and brings different styles and ideas together to make them work, while for Kevin the backliner and goalies are an afterthought, he is playing against himself, perfecting his aim, making impossible shots which makes him a force to recon with but not a good captain because his view of the game is very narrow, i think he is learning to be a better team player and he is an incredible striker but he needs a team to get the ball to him to use his abilities and his narrow and unflexibel nature makes it very hard for him to captain others, i think neil and kevin are both extremly talented just in other ways and neils ability to adapt and include is what makes kevin so strong which is why they win the championship and not to partologize but this feels like an autism character with incredible strengths not being able to do it in other ways and to adapt which is very frustrating because it is the best and only way for kevin to be and he could be so good if the others would just adapt to him and having someone like neil there to help him fit in with the rest of the team is such a blessing for kevin that he would follow neil everywhere and their combination is so satisfying because they can push each other in the right direction and improve together which is so beautiful

i can’t stop thinking about wymack making neil captain over kevin. that must’ve left kevin with the most complicated mess of emotions. because yes, objectively, he knows that neil will make the better captain. they have the same amount of passion and drive, but neil’s better with bringing people together and making them really feel like a team. kevin gets to have a break, in some ways. he’s finally getting cut some slack. BUT ALSO. there’s no way it doesn’t feel like wymack’s choosing neil over him. there’s a new number one. even among the ragtag foxes, kevin isn’t the best. even to his own father, kevin isn’t the first pick

[misswynters]

Just Because

ekko x fem! reader

requested by @inguuuuu

a/n. the boy deserves flowers 💐

Ekko wasn’t expecting this at all.

He wasn’t expecting the soft sound of your footsteps behind him as he tinkered with his latest project. His focus solely on the delicate machine in front of him. He wasn’t expecting the sudden hush in the air, a shift that made him look up from his work. His brow furrowed slightly as he met your eyes. You stood in the doorway, holding a delicate bouquet of flowers. They bright, vibrant, and impossibly beautiful. You were grinning like you were hiding a secret, and Ekko blinked in surprise.

“Uh... What’s this?” he asked, glancing between you and the bouquet, his voice still lingering with confusion.

You stepped forward, your smile widening as you gently held the flowers out to him. He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he was supposed to take them. But there was something in your eyes that made him reach out.

“Just because,” you said softly, your voice carrying that warm, comforting cadence that always made his heart skip a beat. “No reason at all. I thought you’d like them.”

Ekko blinked again, but this time, his expression softened. He glanced down at the flowers in his hands. They consisted of lilies, daisies, and something bright purple that looked almost like wildflowers. The colors were so vibrant, they looked like they were bursting with life. It wasn’t just that they were beautiful; it was the thought behind them that had him feeling a little overwhelmed.

“I—I don’t really get flowers,” he admitted quietly, a little self-conscious about the whole situation. “I mean, I usually see people giving them to... well, to girls. Not so much to guys.”

You chuckled at that, the sound like music to his ears. “And I’m not a girl?” you teased, winking at him as you slid onto the workbench beside him, your hands resting casually on the edge.

Ekko shook his head in amusement but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Yeah, you’re not,” he agreed, his fingers still wrapped gently around the stems of the bouquet. “But... why flowers, though? I mean, it’s not like I did anything to deserve them.”

“You’re why,” you said softly, turning slightly to meet his eyes. “I thought you could use a little brightness today. You work so hard all the time, and I just wanted to remind you that you’re appreciated. No special occasion. Just... because.”

Ekko’s smile softened as your words sank in, the sincerity behind them hitting him like a wave. He’d always been the one to show his affection through actions. Building and fixing things, helping others, however hearing you say those simple words meant so much more than he expected.

“Well, damn,” he said after a moment, his voice rough with emotion. He took a deep breath, looking down at the flowers again. “I wasn’t expecting that. But... thank you. Really.”

You grinned again, happy that you’d made him smile. “You’re welcome, Ekko. It’s no big deal. I just thought you might like them.”

There was a pause as Ekko took in the beauty of the flowers, his thumb brushing against one of the petals as if he were processing the gesture. Then, he looked back at you, his expression thoughtful.

“I mean, if I’m honest... I wasn’t really expecting to get anything like this, especially not from you,” he admitted, still holding the bouquet with reverence. “You’re always so... I don’t know, strong. Like you don’t need things like this.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile pulling at your lips. “Are you saying I’m too tough for flowers, Ekko?”

He smirked, but there was something soft in his eyes. “Nah. You’re just... not the type to do things like this. It’s nice, though. Really nice.”

“I just wanted to surprise you,” you said with a shrug, your voice soft and genuine. “I don’t always have to be the one to receive surprises, you know? Sometimes I like seeing the way your face lights up when you’re surprised. It makes it 100% worth it.”

Ekko’s heart gave a little flutter at that, the way you were looking at him making him feel a warmth he couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t just the flowers. It was how you knew him. How you understood him in a way that no one else really did. The vulnerability in your gesture made something stir within him. He placed the bouquet gently down on the table beside them, then took a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. He wasn’t sure what he was doing at first, but the words came anyway.

“Well... thank you,” he said again, but this time, it was softer, more intimate. “I... really appreciate it.”

Before you could respond, Ekko reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. The movement was slow, like he was unsure of what exactly he wanted to say next.

“You’re more than just the person who surprises me with flowers,” he continued quietly. “You’re the one who makes me feel like I can take on the world, even when it feels like I’m losing. I just... I don’t know how you do it. But I’m really lucky to have you around.”

Your breath caught in your chest, caught off guard by how open he was being. The way Ekko usually expressed himself was more through actions than words, and hearing him be so vulnerable. It made your heart ache in the best way.

“Aww...” you whispered, your hand reaching up to rest gently against his wrist. “You’re more than enough. I’m lucky to have you too.”

He smiled then, soft and almost shy, as he leaned in a little closer, his forehead touching yours for just a brief moment. The world around you faded into the background, the scent of the flowers, and for a second, everything felt perfect.

You pulled back slightly, still grinning, but this time, there was a playful glint in your eyes. “So,” you said, your voice light, “what are you going to do with them?”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, his playful smirk returning. “Well, I think I should probably put them in water before they die, don’t you think?”

You laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s a good start.”

He chuckled, giving you a quick wink as he grabbed a nearby empty glass and began carefully arranging the flowers inside, though the whole time, his mind was still reeling from your gesture. It wasn’t just about the flowers—it was about you, and how you always seemed to know just what he needed, even when he didn’t.

As he turned back toward you, holding the flowers carefully in his hands, you could see how much the little surprise had meant to him. His usual carefree confidence had been replaced with softer ambiance. He was quieter now, more contemplative, but still smiling.

“You’ve really got a way of making everything better, you know that?” he said softly.

You couldn’t help but smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I’m glad. I like making you smile.”

Ekko looked down at the flowers again, then met your gaze, his expression full of warmth. “Well, mission accomplished.”

You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, a silent thank-you for everything. You knew that this little gesture was just a small thing, but for Ekko, it was the kind of moment he would carry with him, a reminder that sometimes, even the smallest surprises could change everything.

taglist: @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights @chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct @celineandtulips @stuckinaoaktree @fxxvz @jadziulaa @luclue @1intrustivethoughts @finnsky666 @blkmystery @serena6728 @mvistl @kaedeprinz @alientee @ametheslime @turquoizxe @emforjin @ekkosh

[muletia]

you've mentioned pegging optimus until he's rambling about getting pregnant, but I NEED u to go more into detail about it. literally foaming at the mouth at the idea of almost taunting him "hmm, any deeper and I'll get you pregnant". him just losing it and begging to be sparked, so u fuck him until he's drooling and borderline incoherent, but still moaning about getting knocked up 😊

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦 ✧˖°

pegging tfp optimus would fix me actually

cw: valveplug, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!optimus, pegging, l-bomb, breeding kink, reader uses a strap

word count: 750

He feels too much. Too intensely. Processor has long dismissed logic, replacing coherent thoughts with mindless, shapeless ones resembling tangled threads. Now, there is no responsibility; the stress of gnawing problems has been replaced by pure ecstasy. Feels it everywhere, even at the tips of his digits, which scrape at the berth in search of a nonexistent anchor. His pedes behave similarly. Thighs tremble from the overwhelming pleasure you so generously bestow upon him. He knows he is not making your task easier, but he cannot stop the quivering — proof of how thoroughly you have ruined him.

“You’re doing great, darling,” you praise him, even though Optimus is just laying beneath you looking pretty. This time, the pleasure is all his. “Keep it up, and perhaps we’ll truly end up with a child.”

At the mere mention of having offspring with you, his back arches, and his helm tilts back. Once again, he makes your work harder; feels it in the sudden change in rhythm deep within his valve. But he cannot help it. Besides, you quickly prove how perfectly harmonized you are by adapting to him. You move closer, pressing your hips more firmly against his. Your thighs meet his, smearing themselves with transfluid — a testament to the length of your shared indulgence.

“[Name], ah…” he tries to speak, but it does not come easily. Processor fails to align with his voice box. “Please…”

He cannot finish the sentence when you suddenly pick up speed, thrusting with full force into his poor, battered valve. It looks swollen and is utterly filled with blue fluid, which drips off your fake cock, but this poses no obstacle for Optimus. Despite the sweet torment, he does not want it to end. Not until he is certain that new life will be created within him, ignoring the absurdity and impossibility of it all.

“What’s the matter, darling?” you ask. Is it cruelty, or are you teasing innocently? He cannot tell, but he does not hold it against you. As long as you are inside him, you can do anything you want.

“[Name]…” he tries again. “Nhnn, I beg you… ah! Please, give me a sparkling! Hah, please! I want… I-I want to be sparked…”

Tears pool in the corners of his optics. You are also certain that the glistening substance around his mouth is his equivalent of saliva.

Holy shit. The great Optimus Prime reduced to a begging, drooling, mindless wreck. Thanks to you. The sight before you is entirely your doing. All it took was once mentioning the topic of children and pregnancy, casually letting it slip during the climax that you would love to have a child with him. As a fantasy, a byproduct of diving too deep into domspace. And he took the bait, completely enchanted by the idea of you knocking him up, even though he knows it is impossible.

Well, for such a sight, it was worth feeding his delusions.

“Since you are asking so nicely…” you murmur.

Your eyes meet, and at that moment, you grab the blue armor plates on his hips and push the silicone cock deeper until you are pressed tightly together. Optimus roars, overwhelmed by you, but he still seems to draw closer, craving more. He wants to become one, to unite in the most intimate way.

“I… I love you,” he mumbles. Your gazes cross again.

“Oh yes, I’m getting you pregnant, big boy.”

You move your hips again. This time faster, leaving no room for doubt about your intentions. You will break the laws of biology if you must.

He feels you relentlessly pumping his own transfluid back into him, as if to assure him you will fulfill his illusory wish.

“Ah, yes! T-thank you, thank you…” he whines. His back arches again, digits claw ferociously at the berth.

He does not know how much longer he can hold out before his body gives up entirely and he won't be able to move even his optics. But he wants to savor this. The fleeting moment, because he does not know when the next one will come. And your kindness, your willingness to tend to him and satisfy his warped, corporeal needs.

“I want… I want a sparkling, ah! with you,” he moans, lost in the subspace. “Give me one, nhnn [Name], I beg you!”

“I love you too,” you pant.

More transfluid spills from his valve, but Optimus gives you no sign to stop, still focused on his mission. Babbling nonsense about pregnancy and having offspring. Preferably several.

[littlelamy]

𝒽𝒾𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈

“rafe,” you hissed, shoving at his chest as he grinned down at you, cocky and unapologetic. “my parents are going to be here any second.”

his hands lingered on your hips, thumbs tracing slow circles through the soft fabric of your sweater. “so?” he teased, leaning in closer until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “they don’t have to know what we were doing five minutes ago, do they?”

“five minutes ago?” you scoffed, attempting to duck away from him, only for his grip to tighten slightly, keeping you pressed to him. “you mean when you decided it’d be funny to leave this on my neck?”

rafe’s laugh was low and warm, his breath tickling your skin as he pressed another kiss—thankfully less biting—just below your jaw. “you’ll survive, baby. it’s christmas. they’ll be too busy stuffing their faces to notice.”

you swatted his arm, heat rushing to your cheeks. “this isn’t funny!” you hissed, pulling away and hurrying to the hallway mirror.

sure enough, there it was. the faint, but prominent mark stood out against your skin like a neon sign, practically screaming: we were definitely making out in the kitchen.

“relax,” rafe drawled, leaning against the doorframe, his smug expression only making your frustration worse. “you’ve got, like, a million scarves. just wear one.”

you glared at him through the mirror, snatching the closest knit scarf from the rack. “this is your fault,” you muttered, winding it around your neck.

“and you love me anyway,” he said easily, crossing the room to press a kiss to your temple.

you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as you shook your head. “you’re impossible.”

“and you’re gorgeous,” rafe shot back, his tone softer now, fingers brushing against your jaw. “seriously, babe, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

before you could respond, the sound of the front door opening filled the house, followed by your mom’s cheerful voice calling out a greeting.

“oh God,” you muttered, panic bubbling up again.

rafe just grinned, giving your hip a reassuring squeeze before guiding you toward the living room. “merry christmas, baby. let’s go charm your parents.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

credits: @dollywons for the png!

[23victoria]

𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝔂 𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓳𝓪𝓬𝓴

​​pairings: 𝓯1 𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

synopsis: 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓪𝓭𝓶𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷

word count:

authors note: 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓼𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮, 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓵 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓾𝓭𝓸 ;)

𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽?! CLICK HERE!

F1 MASTERLIST F1 CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST

Lewis

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but watching Lewis chop down a tree was more attractive than you could’ve prepared for. His beanie sat low over his braids, and his tailored winter coat somehow still showed off his lean figure as he worked. He was taking his time, pausing every now and then to adjust his grip on the saw.

“You okay over there?” he called, catching you staring.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you replied, lips pressed together to keep yourself from grinning too wide.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re making it very hard to focus on Christmas right now,” you said, pushing off the car to walk closer.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to sawing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Says the man chopping wood like he’s auditioning for a holiday romance movie,” you teased, standing just close enough to admire the way his muscles moved under his coat.

When the tree finally toppled over, Lewis turned to you, his smile soft and inviting. “So, what do you think? Still distracted?”

“Very,” you admitted, stepping into his space and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Think you can distract me more?”

“I’ll try,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you.

Charles

Charles was doing his best, really. He had one hand on the axe and the other bracing the tree, his face scrunched up in concentration. The axe was slightly too big for him, but he wasn’t giving up.

“Almost there!” he exclaimed, breathless, his accent wrapping around the words as he gave the tree another swing.

You leaned against the side of the car, your head tilted as you admired him. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and the sleeves of his sweater were pushed up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms. God, the forearms.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured, eyes sweeping over him appreciatively. “Take your time, baby. No rush.”

He glanced back at you, chest heaving, a strand of dark hair falling into his face. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“No reason,” you replied, biting back a grin as you watched him plant his feet and take another swing.

When the tree finally came down, Charles threw his hands up in triumph, laughing. “Voilà!”

“Very impressive,” you teased, stepping closer to loop your arms around his waist. “You know, you look really good with that axe.”

His eyebrows raised. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “Good enough to make me forget about decorating the tree.”

Carlos

Carlos had insisted on chopping the tree down himself, despite your offers to help. He had his jacket unzipped and his scarf hanging loosely around his neck, clearly starting to warm up from the effort. His strong hands gripped the axe expertly, his movements steady and deliberate as he worked.

“Looking good, Sainz,” you called, leaning casually against a nearby stump.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “I always look good, cariño.”

“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed, your gaze fixed on the way his biceps flexed with each swing. You weren’t even trying to hide the fact that you were ogling him.

Carlos noticed, of course. “You’re not even looking at the tree.”

“That’s because I’m looking at something much more interesting,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

With one last swing, the tree fell, and Carlos turned to you, resting the axe on his shoulder. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re too attractive for your own good,” you replied, stepping closer and tugging lightly on his scarf. “Think we have time to christen the cabin before we decorate?”

His grin widened. “You read my mind baby.”

Max

You stood back, bundled in your warmest coat and scarf, watching Max work with the hand saw on the pine tree trunk. His jaw was clenched in determination, blond hair messy under his beanie, and his broad shoulders moving rhythmically with each pull of the saw. The man was efficient—grunting softly every now and then, his strength on full display.

“Almost there,” he muttered, glancing at you for just a second, flashing a confident smirk.

“Mhm,” you hummed, biting your lip and crossing your arms. You weren’t even cold anymore, not with the way he looked like some kind of outdoorsy calendar model.

When the tree fell with a soft thud, Max stood up and leaned against the trunk, wiping sweat off his brow. “What do you think?” he asked, breathing hard.

What you thought was that he looked so damn good doing that, you wanted to drag him into the cabin and forget about the tree altogether. “Yeah… looks great,” you murmured, trying to keep your cool.

Max narrowed his eyes knowingly. “You’re staring, schatje.”

“Maybe I like what I see,” you shot back, smirking.

“Careful,” he teased, stepping closer with that cocky swagger of his. “We might not even get the tree inside if you keep looking at me like that.”

Lando

Lando wasn’t exactly the most experienced with an axe, but he was determined to prove himself. He stood in front of the tree, beanie crooked on his head, and his tongue sticking out slightly as he swung the axe.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” you asked, hiding your amusement.

“I’ve got this!” he said confidently, though the axe got stuck in the trunk on his next swing.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him, his cheeks red from the cold and his hair peeking out from under his beanie. “Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured, mostly to yourself. He might’ve been struggling, but damn if he didn’t look good doing it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lando asked, catching the tone in your voice.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, though your grin gave you away.

Lando narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Not at all,” you replied, stepping closer and brushing some snow off his shoulder. “In fact, I think you look pretty hot right now.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh. Well. Thanks.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now hurry up before I get too distracted to wait for you to finish.”

Oscar

Oscar insisted he could handle chopping the tree himself, even though you’d offered to take turns. His cheeks were already pink from the cold, the soft rise and fall of his breath visible in the winter air as he focused on the task. His grip on the saw was firm, and his jaw tightened in determination with each pull.

You stood nearby, bundled up in your jacket, unable to stop staring. He wasn’t showy or dramatic like some of the others might be—Oscar’s charm was in how quietly capable he was, how his calm confidence made it impossible to look away.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured under your breath, leaning against a nearby stump as your eyes trailed over the way his arms flexed with each movement.

He paused mid-saw, glancing up at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, biting your lip to hide your smirk.

Oscar tilted his head, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You’re staring at me, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” you teased, crossing your arms as you walked closer. “My boyfriend looks very attractive chopping down a Christmas tree. What am I supposed to do, not look?”

His cheeks flushed, and it wasn’t just from the cold this time. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though his smile betrayed him.

“You love it,” you shot back, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Finish up so I can drag you inside and show you just how much I appreciate your hard work.”

Sebastian

Sebastian looked like something out of a winter magazine as he worked, his green jacket snug against his frame and his woolen hat perched perfectly on his head. He made chopping down the tree look effortless, his movements efficient and controlled as though he’d been doing this his whole life.

You stood off to the side, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to suppress the utterly indecent thoughts running through your mind. Watching him chop wood should not have been this attractive. And yet.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed softly, tilting your head to admire the way his muscles shifted beneath his jacket with each swing of the axe.

Seb turned, catching your gaze, and a knowing smile spread across his face. “What’s that sound for?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, though the way you bit your lip gave you away.

“Nothing, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, resting the axe on his shoulder as he walked over to you. “You’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked, shamelessly letting your eyes sweep over him. “You look so good doing this, I’m starting to forget why we even need the tree.”

Seb chuckled, his gloved hand reaching out to tug you closer by the waist. “If we don’t decorate the tree, it won’t feel like Christmas,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Decorating can wait,” you murmured, tugging lightly on his scarf. “I have other priorities right now.”

Jenson

Jenson looked like he belonged in a holiday commercial as he worked, his scarf casually thrown over one shoulder and his jacket unzipped just enough to hint at the sweater underneath. He was taking his time, not rushing, his movements deliberate and precise as he wielded the axe with ease.

You stood nearby, watching him with an almost embarrassing amount of focus. His silver hair caught the sunlight, and the way his body moved with such confidence and control was doing things to you. Things you probably shouldn’t admit aloud.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed appreciatively, your eyes shamelessly glued to him.

Jenson straightened, brushing snow off his hands as he turned to you with a smirk. “What’s with that look on your face?”

“What look?” you asked, feigning innocence even as your cheeks warmed.

“The one that says you’re not thinking about Christmas anymore,” he teased, resting the axe against the tree as he walked over to you.

You shrugged, tilting your head as you gave him a once-over. “Can you blame me? My boyfriend looks like he walked straight off the set of a Hallmark movie. How am I supposed to focus on the tree?”

He chuckled, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “So, what you’re saying is, I’ve distracted you?”

“Completely,” you admitted, running your hands up his chest.

Jenson leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Good. Because I’ve been thinking about ways to distract you since we got here.”

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 @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @teti-menchon0604 @bxtosa @fadingcloudballoon-blog @whatevenisthisxxxxx @anamiad00msday @luula @jimcarreyfann42 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @goldenroutledge @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris18-blog @flowerpetalk @paucubarsisimp @its-elias-world @magixpracticality @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206

[jungwnies]

ASKING YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND TO HELP YOU DECORATE THE HOUSE FOR XMAS 🎄

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : genre : fluff ୨ৎ : tws : light kissing, nothing heavy ୨ৎ : word count : 3094

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : it's finally xmas season & this one was so fun and cute to write i love it >.<

ʚ・max verstappen

it was a couple weeks before christmas, and you were sitting on the floor, a box of ornaments and tangled lights in front of you. max was on the couch, scrolling through his phone, looking entirely too relaxed for someone about to be recruited for decorating duty. you glance up at him, already preparing your argument.

“baby,” you say, dragging out his name a little.

he doesn’t even look up at first, just gives you a hum. “hmm?”

“i really want to decorate the house for christmas. the tree, the mantel… everything.”

that gets his attention. he finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “decorate? like, the whole house?”

you nod, trying not to laugh at his expression. “yes. it’s our first christmas here together, and it’ll be fun. please?”

he sighs like you’ve just asked him to do the impossible, setting his phone down and leaning back. “i’m going to be terrible at this,” he mutters, already standing up.

you grin and pat the spot next to you on the floor. “you’ll survive.”

turns out, he wasn’t exaggerating—max is hilariously bad at decorating. the lights are a disaster. he pulls them out of the box, only to end up with a massive tangle in his hands. “how does this even happen?” he grumbles, holding up the mess. “these things are worse than a bad strategy call.”

you laugh, reaching over to help. “just give them to me before you make it worse.”

then it’s the ornaments. he starts off just randomly putting them on the tree until he gets oddly picky about the placement. “you can’t put two gold ones right next to each other,” he says, moving one.

“since when do you care about ornament placement?” you tease.

“i don’t, but this looks wrong,” he says, smirking.

when it’s time for the star, he insists on lifting you so you can put it on top. “don’t fall,” he warns, steadying you with both hands.

“you’ve got me,” you reply, laughing.

later, as you both sit back and look at the finished tree, he shrugs like it’s no big deal. “it’s not terrible,” he says, but the small smile on his face tells you he’s secretly proud.

you let out a soft laugh and give him a kiss on the cheek, "it's perfect considering this is our first christmas together."

ʚ・lewis hamilton

it was a chilly december evening, and the house already smelled faintly of cinnamon and pine. you were standing in the living room, a box of decorations at your feet and the christmas tree still bare in the corner. lewis wandered in, his beanie still on from walking roscoe outside, and gave you a curious look.

“baby, you planning to do all that by yourself?” he asked, nodding toward the box.

“was kind of hoping you’d help,” you said, looking up at him with a playful grin.

he chuckled, stepping closer and taking off his beanie, his curls springing loose. “you know i’m terrible at this kind of thing, right?”

“you’ll be fine,” you said, pulling out a strand of lights. “besides, it’s about the effort, not perfection.”

he raised an eyebrow, a skeptical smile on his face. “you sound like you’re setting me up to fail.”

but, to his credit, lewis dove right in, untangling lights with the focus of someone preparing for a race. “these things are like tire warmers,” he muttered, holding up a hopeless knot.

“i don’t think pirelli makes christmas lights,” you teased, reaching over to help.

once the lights were on the tree—after much adjusting and a few laughs at lewis’ questionable wrapping technique—you moved on to the ornaments. he took his time with each one, carefully inspecting them like they were trophies, even asking about the stories behind a few.

“this one’s cute,” he said, holding up a small handmade ornament. “you make this?”

“when i was a kid,” you admitted, a little embarrassed.

he laughed gently as a slight smile spread onto his face. he help the ornament carefully, placing it near the middle of the tree. “it deserves a good spot.”

when it came time for the tree topper, lewis insisted on doing it himself. “gotta make up for my shocking lights performance,” he joked. he climbed onto a chair, carefully placing the star on top while you steadied him.

stepping back, the two of you admired the tree, the warm glow of the lights filling the room. lewis slipped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “not bad for a rookie decorator, huh?”

you leaned into him, smiling. “you did great.”

he kissed your temple, his voice soft. “it’s not really about the tree, you know. it’s about moments like this.”

and as roscoe wandered in, settling near the tree with a content sigh, you couldn’t help but think he was absolutely right.

ʚ・george russel

it was late afternoon, and you were sitting on the couch with george, boxes of christmas decorations scattered around the room. the tree stood bare in the corner, waiting for some life to be added to it. george leaned back, one arm draped casually along the back of the couch, watching you as you sorted through ornaments.

“are we actually going to decorate today, or are you just going to stare at the boxes?” you teased, holding up a tangled string of lights.

he smirked, pushing himself off the couch. “alright, alright, i’m coming. but you know i’m terrible with the lights. they’re always a mess.”

you handed him the string, grinning. “well, you’re in luck. you’re tall, so you can deal with the top of the tree.”

george rolled his eyes playfully, taking the lights from you. “great. the perks of being tall. you get stuck doing all the hard jobs.”

“you’re lucky i’m not asking you to string lights outside,” you joked, sorting through the ornaments. “now, don’t mess it up.”

he stepped up to the tree, carefully draping the lights over the branches. “don’t mess it up,” he repeated in a slightly mocking tone, turning back to flash you a cheeky grin. “you’ve got a lot of faith in me.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “i do. just... don’t make it look like you threw them on blindfolded.”

george chuckled softly, finishing his work and stepping back to inspect it. “there. masterpiece. what do you think?”

you tilted your head, pretending to be deep in thought. “hmm... it’s not bad. i’d give it... seven out of ten.”

“seven?” he gasped, feigning offense. “love, that’s a solid nine at least.”

“if you say so,” you teased, holding up the star. “want to do the honors?”

he took it from you, carefully placing it on top of the tree. stepping back, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “there. now it’s perfect.”

you smiled up at him. “you know, you’re not so bad at this after all.”

“told you,” he said with a wink. “i’m a man of many talents.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

it was late afternoon, the golden light streaming through the windows as you wrestled with a tangled mess of christmas lights. carlos wandered into the living room, wearing his usual casual track pants, a hoodie, and that slight smirk he always seemed to carry.

“qué haces?” (what are you doing?) he asked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you struggle.

you sighed dramatically, holding up the lights in defeat. “i’m trying to decorate the tree, but these lights have other plans.”

he chuckled, that low, warm laugh of his, and walked over to you. “ay, dios mío. you didn’t wait for me? i could’ve saved you from this mess.”

you raised an eyebrow at him. “oh, so you’re an expert at christmas lights now?”

“of course,” he said, grabbing the tangled strand from your hands. “i am el rey de las luces, the king of the lights." he gave you a wink, but within seconds, he had the lights in just as much of a mess as you did. “eh… maybe not.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “great job, amor.”

“oye, oye, don’t laugh. i’ll fix it,” he insisted, his accent thick as he focused on untangling the lights. his brow furrowed in concentration, the same look he wore when analyzing data back at the paddock. eventually, he managed to untangle the mess, holding up the lights triumphantly. “see? easy.”

stringing the lights around the tree became a team effort—or, more accurately, a comedy routine. carlos kept stopping to adjust them, stepping back every few minutes and tilting his head. “no, no, this side needs more. it’s like setting up the car—balance is everything.”

“you’re overthinking it, amor,” you teased, mimicking his accent slightly, which earned you a playful glare.

“cariño...don’t start with me,” he warned, pointing a light strand at you. “you want a perfect tree or no?”

when it came to the ornaments, carlos became surprisingly sentimental, asking about each one. “this one—where is it from?” he asked, holding up a little wooden angel.

“a market in my hometown,” you said. “my family bought it years ago.”

he smiled, carefully placing it near the top. “then it goes somewhere special.”

finally, the star. carlos insisted on doing it himself, grabbing a chair and climbing up with dramatic flair. “el momento más importante,” (the most important moment) he said, grinning as he carefully positioned the star at the top.

when he climbed down, he stepped back beside you, hands on his hips as he admired the tree. “mira. perfect,” (look. perfect) he said, nodding with satisfaction.

you glanced at him, smiling. “not bad for el rey de las luces.” you tease.

he looked at you, pretending to be offended. “eh, don’t disrespect the king.” then his face softened, and he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “but seriously… it’s nice, no? makes the house feel… like home.”

and with the glow of the tree lights reflecting in his warm brown eyes, you couldn’t agree more.

ʚ・charles leclerc

it was the weekend before christmas, and the kitchen smelled like cinnamon and sugar. you were trying your best to bake cookies, but the dough was a bit more messy than you expected. charles had just returned from his morning run, his hair still damp from the sweat, a towel casually draped around his neck. when he saw you, there was that warm smile—always so soft, so fond.

“hey, mon amour,” he said, his voice low and a little breathless, his accent as soft as the morning light streaming through the window.

“my love,” you smiled back, rolling your eyes playfully as you looked at the mess you’d made. “i think i need help here.”

he crossed the room with the grace of someone who was always in control, always in the moment. stepping behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. “bien sûr, anything for you,” he murmured in your ear, the words full of that effortless affection he always seemed to have for you.

“really?” you teased, glancing up at him. “because if you burn these cookies, you’re doing all the decorations this year, including the tree.”

charles chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “je vais pas brûler les cookies, don’t worry, i’m a professional.” (i won’t burn the cookies)

“uh-huh, and what if i don’t want a professional? what if i want my boyfriend making cookies with me?” you grinned, nudging him lightly.

his eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “tous les jours avec toi sont parfaits,” he whispered, as if it was the most natural thing to say. (every day with you is perfect.)

you felt your heart flutter, your smile growing. “you’re making me all mushy inside,” you said, your voice quieter now.

“c’est toi qui me rends comme ça,” he replied, his voice filled with a sweetness that made everything feel softer. (it’s you who makes me this way.) you didn't really know any french, but these sweet words he said repeatively were easy for you to pick up.

he kissed the top of your head, then took the mixing bowl from your hands, stirring the dough with a calm focus. “you know, i was never good at this... but with you, it’s different. everything feels easy.”

you watched him with affection, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at you. there was something so deeply sincere about him, as if every word, every touch, every moment together felt like a promise. “i feel the same way,” you said quietly, heart swelling with love.

he stopped for a moment, setting the bowl down and gently cupping your face, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. “je t’aime tellement,” he whispered, his eyes locking with yours in that way that made everything else disappear. (i love you so much.)

“i love you too,” you replied, voice a little unsteady from how full your heart felt in that instant.

he kissed you then, slow and soft, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the kitchen, the cookies, even the christmas tree that waited in the corner of the room. it was just you and him, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you whispered when he pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“c’est simple, mon amour,” he said with a tender smile, his voice full of that same quiet certainty. (it’s simple, my love.) “you’re everything i never knew i needed, and more.”

and in that moment, as the soft twinkle of the christmas lights reflected in his eyes, you knew—you were exactly where you were meant to be.

ʚ・lando norris

it was a chilly evening, and you and lando were driving home from christmas shopping, the car packed with bags and decorations. you were both exhausted, but there was that festive excitement in the air.

lando glanced over with a mischievous grin. “so, what’s the plan for tonight? we’ve got the tree to decorate and i might need to save you from messing it up.”

you rolled your eyes. “oh really? you think you’re the master decorator now?”

“obviously,” he replied, grinning. “i’ve got amazing taste. no one’s topping my skills this year.”

“right,” you laughed. “because last year you couldn’t even get the star on top of the tree.”

lando gasped dramatically. “hey, that was one time! and you were totally distracting me with your light-wrangling skills.”

“sure, sure,” you teased as he parked in the driveway. “let’s see how ‘amazing’ you really are this year.”

once inside, lando eagerly got the boxes of decorations, already talking about how tonight’s tree would be perfect. “first, we do the lights, then the tinsel, and finally the ornaments. it’s a science, really.”

“a science?” you grinned, grabbing a string of lights to untangle. “sounds like something you made up to sound more impressive.”

“maybe,” he laughed, “but trust me, i’ve got this. no tangles, no mess. just perfection.”

you set to work, and as you both decorated, lando made everything feel fun. his jokes and playful banter had you laughing the entire time.

“just don’t break any ornaments this year, alright?” you warned, glancing over at him as he placed a glass bauble on the tree.

“no promises,” he winked. “but trust me, it’ll look perfect when we’re done.”

you smiled, already knowing he was right. with lando, everything—even decorating a tree—was a little brighter and a lot more fun.

“you’re ridiculous,” you teased, admiring the tree.

“but i’m your ridiculous,” he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “and that’s all that matters.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

it was a warm evening, and you and oscar were sitting on the balcony, the australian summer air soft and easy. the christmas lights shimmered faintly in the dimming light, but something about it still felt a little off.

“you know, it’s just weird,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “christmas in summer. i keep waiting for snow, but it’s... hot.”

oscar glanced over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took a sip of his drink. “yeah, i get it,” he said quietly. “it’s different. but i think it’s kind of nice, you know? christmas in the heat, just feels... relaxed.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i just can’t get used to it. christmas is supposed to be cold. cozy, with fireplaces and snow.”

“it’s still christmas,” oscar said, his tone calm and steady. “just... a little warmer, that’s all.”

you smiled, but still felt a bit out of place. “i can’t be the only one who thinks this is strange, though. there’s no snowball fights, no cold air... just heat.”

oscar chuckled lightly, leaning back and stretching out. “yeah, i guess. but, uh... christmas on the beach is pretty great too, you know? different, but good.”

you gave him a sideways glance, still skeptical. “how do you just... accept this? i feel like i should be wearing gloves and snow boots.”

he shrugged, his gaze soft but sure. “it’s just how we do it here. doesn’t make it any less christmas. you’ll get used to it.”

you looked at him, a quiet smile playing on your lips. “maybe... but i’ll probably be dreaming of a white christmas while i’m sweating in this jumper.”

oscar’s smile widened slightly, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours. “if you want, we can just have our own little cozy corner. christmas is about whatever makes it feel right, yeah?”

you leaned against him, feeling more at ease. “yeah... i guess so. still feels a bit weird though.”

“you’ll get there,” he said with a calm smile. “just gotta give it time. but hey, at least we’re together, right?”

you smiled, your heart warming in the quiet evening. “yeah, you're right. it’s still perfect with you.”

“and, if it helps,” oscar added, his eyes twinkling slightly, “we can make the house feel a bit more christmasy—like, wintery christmas, if you want. i’ll help you set up whatever you need.”

your face lit up at the idea. “you’d do that? really?”

“yeah, we can hang fake snowflakes, maybe throw some fairy lights everywhere... i’ll even wear an ugly christmas sweater if it makes you feel better,” he teased, his smile soft but sincere.

“that sounds perfect,” you said, feeling the warmth of christmas already starting to settle in. with oscar by your side, maybe this summer christmas wasn’t so strange after all.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

after hours, a fluffy husband!Nanami oneshot

an: this one goes out to all the babes working through the holidays, in all forms<3

“Working late again, my love?” Nanami wrinkled his brow as he looked over your shoulder at the computer screen. “Is this the same project you’ve been working on all week?”

You rolled your neck, trying to ease some of the tension, and he took it as his cue to begin gently massaging your shoulders. “Yeah, it is,” you sighed. “I tried to tell my boss we should’ve started this months ago, but they ignored it until this week. Now I’ve got to get it all done by an impossible deadline.” You jabbed at the button to lower the brightness on your monitor. Your eyes stung, and it only frustrated you more. “It sucks.”

Nanami kept kneading your shoulders as he listened, softly pressing down when they rose up to your ears as you vented. “That sounds awful. They should have listened to you.”

“Mhm. But it doesn’t matter now, I still have to fix their problem.”

“There’s no one else that can do this? Or at least help?”

“Ha, no one else who can do it right, or on time.” You shrugged his hands off, ignoring the way it made him frown. “I’ll be working late tonight. Don’t stay up waiting for me, okay? Only one of us should have to suffer.”

He hummed dismissively. “I don’t think so. I’m keeping you company, at the very least.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You know how I feel about overtime.”

“It’s shit?”

“Exactly. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

You slumped in your chair and scrolled through a few more pages of documentation as Nanami clattered around the kitchen. When he reappeared in the doorway, he was holding two mugs of tea, with a book tucked under his arm. Your softest pair of sweatpants were draped over his shoulder. 

“What’s all this, Kento?”

He set the tea at your elbow and held out the sweatpants with a crooked smile. “Trying to help a little.” He knelt down in front of your chair. “Will you let me?”

You nodded and let your head fall back on the chair as he pulled off your trousers, your scowl easing just a bit. Kento’s touch was gentle and warm, chased by light kisses. He slid your comfy sweatpants on, smiling as you lifted your hips to let him work them up to your waist. “There we go. Better?”

“Much,” you conceded. He lifted your bare foot and pressed a kiss to the arch, like Prince Charming doting on Cinderella. But instead of a glass slipper, he adorned you in fuzzy socks.

Nanami didn’t give you a chance to protest as he pulled a chair up beside you and settled in, one hand resting firmly on your thigh. “We’ll see this through together, alright?” He opened the book he had brought in and began to read. 

His silent support made the work go faster. Though it was a miserable slog, leaning your head on his shoulder or feeling his hand in your hair reminded you that there were better things waiting for you when the work was done.

True to his word, Nanami stayed up as late as you did, microwaving your tea, massaging your aching shoulders, and murmuring words of encouragement until your monster of an assignment was vanquished. You sent your last email and slammed the laptop shut with a triumphant grin, and he scooped you up in his arms. "You're incredible. My wife, the genius. My brilliant- what is it you say?" he stopped to think for a moment. "Corporate baddie."

You burst into a fit of laughter. "Where are you taking me?"

"To a well-earned rest, my love." You smiled into his chest, feeling a familiar heat between your legs, his sweetness and strong embrace making you want to feel the rest of your him, to reward him for his patience...

Despite your grand plans, you were half-asleep by the time he reached the bedroom. He laid you gently in bed and set to work wiping the makeup from your face with a reusable cloth- he wasn't new at this. "This" being taking care of you- by far the most important responsibility in his mind.

He accepted the half-asleep kisses you pressed to his lips between mumbled promises of what you'd do to him tomorrow, in thanks.

"As lovely as it sounds, at least I think," he teased, "I don't need to be rewarded for caring for you. I seem to remember saying some vows to that effect..."

You shushed him with another kiss, already drifting off beside him. Exactly where you belonged.

[psychoticfemmm]

drunk on you

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: After a wild night of partying, JJ takes care of his drunk girlfriend, enduring her chaotic antics and relentless demands for kisses while the Pogues tease him endlessly.

The music thumped loudly in the background as JJ Maybank maneuvered his way through the crowded beach party, your drunken laughter echoing in his ears. You were practically draped over his shoulder like a giggling mess, your hand clutching the strap of his shirt while your other hand lazily waved at everyone passing by.

“JJ! I’m having so much fun!” you slurred, your face lighting up as you spotted him glancing down at you. “But I need—wait for it—another kiss!”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need another kiss, princess. You need water. And maybe a nap.”

You pouted dramatically, squirming in his grasp. “Nooo. JJ, you’re being so mean. Just one!”

He stopped for a second, setting you down on your feet so you could look at him with wide, pleading eyes. “What did I just say? Water first, then maybe kisses,” he teased, a crooked grin on his face.

You leaned closer, practically pressing your forehead against his chest as you whined, “But you’re my boyfriend! It’s your job to kiss me whenever I ask.”

“You’re impossible,” JJ said with a sigh, but the fondness in his voice gave him away.

From a few feet away, Sarah, John B, Pope, and Kiara watched the scene unfold, laughing amongst themselves.

“She’s relentless,” Pope said, shaking his head in disbelief. “JJ looks like he’s babysitting.”

“Hey, at least she’s not crying,” Sarah chimed in, smirking. “That’s progress.”

“She’s definitely about to though,” Kiara added, watching as you flung yourself dramatically against JJ’s chest, shouting something about him being “the worst boyfriend ever” for withholding kisses.

“Alright, that’s it,” JJ declared, bending down and effortlessly scooping you into his arms bridal-style, just like in the picture. “I’m cutting you off. You’re done.”

You gasped, throwing your head back in faux outrage as your legs dangled over his arms. “You’re kidnapping me! Someone stop him!”

“No one’s stopping me, sweetheart,” JJ said with a laugh. “You’re out of control.”

The group burst into laughter, John B pulling out his phone to record the whole scene.

“JJ, this is gold,” John B said between laughs. “I can’t wait to show her this tomorrow.”

“Don’t you dare!” you shouted, suddenly animated, though your words were slurred. “John B Routledge, I swear, if you—JJ, make him stop!”

JJ rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on you. “You think I can do everything, huh? I’m already carrying your drunk ass.”

“Because you love me,” you replied with a smug grin, poking his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” JJ muttered, though his smile betrayed him.

When you finally made it back to the house, JJ gently set you down on the couch. You flopped over dramatically, your arm draped over your face.

“You’re going to hate yourself in the morning,” he said, handing you a bottle of water.

“I’m going to hate you in the morning,” you quipped, though your smile said otherwise.

JJ rolled his eyes, plopping down beside you. “Fine. One kiss. Just one.”

You immediately perked up, your face lighting up as you crawled onto his lap and kissed him. It was a bit clumsy and overly enthusiastic, but JJ couldn’t help but laugh into it, pulling you closer.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he said, pulling back before you could start again. “We’re in front of the Pogues, for crying out loud.”

Sure enough, Sarah, Kiara, and the rest of the group were standing in the doorway, watching with grins and smug expressions.

“Aw, JJ,” Sarah teased. “You’re such a softie.”

“Shut it, Sarah,” JJ shot back, his cheeks red.

“I think it’s cute,” Kiara said, nudging Pope.

Pope smirked. “You mean hilarious.”

You, however, were too busy giggling in JJ’s arms to care. And despite the teasing and chaos around him, JJ couldn’t help but smile. Because at the end of the day, you were his chaos—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You groaned as sunlight streamed through the window, making you squint against the bright rays. Your head pounded, and your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

“What the hell…” you muttered, shielding your eyes as you slowly sat up.

From the doorway, JJ leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed and a smug grin plastered on his face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said, his tone entirely too cheerful.

You glared at him. “Why are you so loud?”

“Not my fault you had a little too much fun last night,” he teased, walking over and plopping down on the bed beside you.

You groaned, dropping back against the pillows. “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely reminding you. Do you want to hear about how you demanded ‘one more kiss’ like, a hundred times? Or how you tried to fight John B because he wouldn’t stop filming you?”

Your eyes shot open, and you turned to him with horror. “I did not.”

“Oh, you did,” JJ said with a laugh. “And you called me, and I quote, ‘the worst boyfriend ever’ because I wouldn’t kiss you in the middle of the party.”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “I’m never drinking again.”

JJ leaned down, brushing his lips against your temple. “Don’t worry. I think it was adorable. Drunk you is my favorite.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he said with a grin. “But don’t worry, princess. I’m here to take care of you.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but smile at him. Because at the end of the day, JJ always had your back—whether you were sober or not.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

since you guys loved the last JJ fic𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

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[moonlitwitchdaisy]

Boyfriend!Sukuna was definitely not a shy man.

As someone who had tried every possible way to embarrass him, neither your actions nor your words ever worked. Every time, he’d look at you with the same seriousness—or even mild annoyance. Did you truly believe you could make him blush? It was ridiculous. There was no way someone as towering and unshakable as him would ever feel embarrassed to the point of turning red. It was simply impossible.

But for you, “impossible” was just a word.

You were leaning against his broad chest, sitting in his lap, as the two of you watched the snow falling onto the garden from your terrace. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the touchy type, but when you insisted, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for you.

“So, you’ve never been embarrassed?” you asked, your gaze fixed on the snow as it blanketed the greenery outside. Your question earned a low grunt from him.

“I was wondering how long it’d take for you to ruin the moment,” he replied, pausing briefly before adding, “Three minutes and forty-one seconds. Congrats, brat, you broke your previous record.”

His words made you laugh so hard your body shook, though Sukuna couldn’t understand what was so funny about his dead-serious comment. You were a peculiar one, that was for sure.

Suddenly, you shifted in his lap, moving to straddle him. His large hands instinctively settled on your waist, steadying you.

Who would’ve thought being held by four hands could feel this good?

As your fingers trailed through his pink, messy hair, Sukuna’s eyes fluttered shut—something he couldn’t help but do whenever you touched his hair. It always brought him an unexplainable calm, a sense of peace he found nowhere else.

“I’m good at breaking records,” you teased, a bright smile lighting up your face. Sukuna didn’t open his eyes, but you caught the faintest upward twitch of his lips—a rare, fleeting moment of softness.

“I can see that. You surprise me more and more every day, you cheeky brat.” The crimson eyes that most people found cursed and terrifying locked onto yours, though you found them utterly irresistible. While he’d never admit it, seeing you smile made everything in his world feel a little brighter.

Slowly, he leaned in, nuzzling his head against the soft curve of your neck. His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear, and he planted a gentle kiss there, letting his teeth graze your skin ever so slightly.

“Just one touch…” His warm breath sent shivers down your spine. “One single touch is enough to turn your neck red. I’d bet your cheeks are even redder than your neck right now.”

He was right. Your cheeks were undoubtedly burning like wildfire. You knew your face had turned a shade rivaling a clown’s red nose.

“Kuna—”

“I want you right here.” His deep voice resonated through you. “Watching the snow while I bury myself inside your warm, tight little pussy.”

If you stayed like this any longer, everything he said would probably happen. You were already sore from last night. Besides, it was Christmas Day, and you wanted to do something other than just have sex with your boyfriend.

With great difficulty, you pulled his massive head away from you. If he wanted to stop you, he could have, but if he did, he’d probably have to endure you complaining to him for two hours.

Still holding his head, you scolded him, “Nuh-uh. Last night you nearly broke my back.” Furrowing your brows, you let go of his head and stood up. “I’m going to make us some hot chocolate, and don’t even try that ‘I don’t like sweet things’ excuse. I know who ate the Oreo Milka I bought two days ago.”

As you walked off the terrace toward the kitchen, you called out loudly, “Be a good boy, Sukuna, and maybe I’ll let you have me on the terrace later.”

Magic words didn’t always have to be “please.” After all, the word “please” didn’t even exist in Sukuna’s vocabulary. But if he had to pick one magical phrase, it would undoubtedly be “good boy.”

Those two words were enough to make your supposedly unshakable boyfriend blush furiously and feel his heart race in his chest.

It wasn’t the first time you’d called him “good boy,” but every time you did, he somehow managed to hide his face, avoiding your gaze.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who made others kneel at his feet, who inspired fear with his towering figure and unmatched strength, could turn into a shy mess with just two simple words from you: “good boy.”

a little note: can i get a little commotion for my red ribbon divider 😌

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Twelve Days: Part 2^**

In days 5-8 Y/N confronts her sister about her behavior. The tension between Harry and Y/N starts to grow as they continue spending more time together after hours until it's just impossible not to address it. READ PART 1 HERE

Warnings: infidelity, break ups, mentions of depression and anxiety and their symptoms, mentions and use of alcohol and drugs, breast/ nipple play, dry humping

WC: 7.1K

Day Five:

When you woke up the following morning you were alone in the bed which definitely was for the best because you felt really guilty for the night before. Yeah, you hadn’t actually gone through with anything terrible, but you two had crossed a boundary that shouldn’t have been crossed. Maybe it was because you were both a little heartbroken over the things that you were going through personally, but ultimately, that didn’t really justify anything. 

Despite the very successful night of sleep you’d had, you felt a little unwell. Your stomach felt funky and your thoughts were going a hundred miles a minute. You didn’t want to get out of bed today even though you knew that a walk around the neighborhood would help you feel a little less gross, both physically and mentally. It seemed like a great day to just be lowkey and rot and then your door creaked open and you sat up to see your mom peering in.

“Sorry, I thought you’d still be asleep. Was just seeing if your sister had stayed with you or something.” She explained with a worried expression on her face.

“No. I was alone. All night.” You added with a nervous lump in your throat.

“Hmmm…did she say anything to you last night?”

“No. But she was out with Claudia, she’s not here?”

“She is, but she said they came back together.”

“Maybe she went out for a walk or a run. I saw her the other day when I went out.” You explained and she nodded and left.

The logical thing to assume was that she had spent the night with that guy she was sleeping with. Doing this on a family trip was a new low. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so bad for having the hots for Harry because she was out with another guy! That alone was enough to motivate you to get out of bed and you called your sister while you paced around your room back and forth waiting former to pick up. 

“Hello?” She hummed happily and you sighed.

“Where are you? Everyone’s freaking out!” You whisper shouted, trying not to sound too angry with her because you technically weren’t supposed to know what was actually going on.

“I went to have breakfast with a friend! I left a note by the door!” She said and you sighed, “I’ll be back in like an hour tops.”

“Why didn’t you text Harry back then?”

“I didn’t want to text him and wake him. You guys did a lot yesterday and he was pretty tired. I got back late and slept in Claudia’s room.” She fibbed and you hummed.

“Well just…hurry back.”

“Yeah. Bye!” She said and hung up quickly. 

You got your slippers on and headed out to the kitchen where your mom was making coffee for everyone.

“She answered my call. She’s out at breakfast with a friend who’s also here, I guess.” You said and just like that, the crease between your mother’s brows was ironed out. 

“Oh, thank god.”

“She said she left a note by the door.” You said and your aunt hurried over and was soon back in sight with a piece of paper.

“I may have missed it in my panic!” Claudia chuckled and your dad rolled his eyes.

“Well, what do you guys want to eat?” Your mom asked.

“I don’t care, I just want some mimosas.” Harry said and headed to the fridge to get the champagne.

“Excellent idea!” Your dad exclaimed happily and you smiled and started heading back to your bedroom.

“Hey, where are you off to?” Harry asked.

“Just gonna wash up and get dressed.” You informed and he smiled and got back to his task. 

Despite her promise to return in an hour or so, your sister was not back until nearly two in the afternoon. Your parents were inside watching a movie with your aunt and you and Harry were pretending to play tennis. Pretending because you had no idea what you were doing, you were just winded from all the back and forth. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. You and Harry were laughing about you accidentally hitting the ball over the fence when your sister came out to the back and towards the pool house. Suddenly the laughter died down and Harry headed towards you.

“I should go talk to her.” He said and you bit your lip for a second.

“Ummm…let me.” You said, “I can get her to tell me the truth and then talk a little sense into her.”

“You shouldn’t have to…”

“I know. But this is super fucked up and everyone’s all confused and she’s just going to yell at you, so let me try.”

“Alright.” He agreed and you nodded once before heading towards the pool house.

You did feel extremely nervous as you reached for the door handle but you had to talk some sense into her. It seemed that she was just over pretending to be happy and didn’t care how it all came out. However, you knew that your sister actually really cared for how she was outwardly perceived, so this was extremely out of character for her. As soon as she heard the front door open she sighed.

“Spare me the argument, Harry. He’s gone.” She called out as you rounded the corner.

“Who’s gone?” You asked and she quickly turned around from walking over to the bathroom.

“No one. Just a friend Harry’s jealous of.” She mumbled with a shake of her head.

“Mmm…some friend that must be because Harry’s not the jealous type.” You said as you sat on the corner of the bed. Showing her that you had no intention of leaving any time soon.

“And how would you know that?”

“Because I’ve known the guy for almost 10 years, Julie! It takes a lot to upset him. Him not being the jealous type was one of the things you really liked about him when you were dating. You told me about it many times.” You reminded her. “You’ve got everyone thrown for a loop with how you’ve been acting.”

“Oh my god…don’t make this a thing.”

“I’m not! This is very much a thing already. What is going on, huh?” You pressed and she sighed.

“Nothing, Y/N! Just mind your business.”

“What’s really going on?” You pressed and she groaned.

“You wouldn’t even understand so just stay out of it, Y/N!” she raised her voice.

“Try me.” You said simply and her anger seemed to dissipate and she just stood there for a second, genuinely giving it some thought. And then her eyes started welling up.

“I can’t.” She said and you frowned.

“Why not?” You questioned.

“Because you’re going to think so badly of me.” She said and you frowned.

“Jules, I’d never judge you.” You said sincerely and she sighed. “Look ummm…Harry, h-he told me about you.” You said carefully and her jaw dropped as her tears started to fall. She quickly sat beside you and started sobbing, so you pulled her into your side. It was strange for you but you wanted her to know that this mistake she had made wasn’t enough to make you not love her. Despite your slightly complicated relationship, she was important to you and you wanted nothing more than the best for her. “It’s okay…” you assured her. 

After she calmed down some, you grabbed her Stanley for her and let her drink a bit as you grabbed some toilet paper so that she could blow her nose. She let out a long exhale and then let herself fall back onto the mattress.

“I’m a major demisexual and I’m in love with someone else and yes, I’ve been…having an affair with him.” She confessed.

“For how long?” You asked.

“There’s been three separate times.” She explained, “The first time Harry and I had been dating a few months and ummm…it happened at a work party and it went on for about a month. It ended because Harry caught us a friend’s wedding and he dumped me for a few days for it. Then again, right after Harry and I got engaged.” You frowned as you heard this, “And that one lasted like four months.” She explained and your jaw slightly dropped upon hearing this. “I know…and it just…it fucked me up! I started to doubt and was sort of on the fence until we were like three months away from the wedding! I just, I was trying to find the courage to end it with Harry.” she cried and you nodded as you listened, “And then it was the month before the wedding and I missed my period.” Julie explained and you nodded. “By that point Joey and I hadn’t seen each other for three months! Because he had given me an ultimatum and that’s what made me decide to leave Harry. But yeah, then that happened and I just…felt like it was a sign to stay.” She shrugged.

“So…what happened with that?” You asked carefully.

“Nothing. I mean, I was just late. Probably stress from the wedding and the decision I was making with Harry…and I think I had started on birth control a few weeks prior, so yeah, it was just a late. But I still took that as a sign, you know and I stayed with Harry. I didn’t talk to Joey all this time until last year. I decided that maybe being friends on social media would be alright after all those years. Like we were such good friends and I did miss that. But obviously, that was a slippery slope and here we are… and I mean, I’ve loved him all this time. But I’ve also loved Harry enough to stay. But then when Joey and I started talking again that love for Harry was gone.” She said sadly. She brought her hands up to her face and groaned into them. “I’m such a horrible human being! I’m a piece of shit!” 

“You’re not, Jules. You did a horrible and shitty thing, but you’re not that.” You assured her. “If you don’t love Harry anymore then why don’t you just get divorced?” You asked.

“This is what I hate myself for most!” She cried. “I just know that…leaving Harry is not the best option for me. Joey is flighty and kind of a fuck boy! But he still cares about me. So then I think if I show him that I am that committed to him he won’t be so afraid of trying with me for real.” She explained and you wanted to laugh. That was maybe the most delusional thing you had ever heard in your life. You felt so bad for her.

“I know how fucking delusional that makes me sound! Trust me, I know! That’s why I haven’t left Harry. Because logic is completely out the window right now! And I mean, m-maybe with time I’ll fall for Harry again? I mean, I did once before…” she explained as the tears streamed down her face.

“I’m sorry.” You said lowly. 

“Don’t be…I did this to myself.” She sniffled. “And now I’m dragging one of the best persons in the world down with me.” She whimpered before she started to cry again. “I know I’m being selfish but I’m so scared!” She broke down again and you pouted. 

“I know how scary it is to be alone, but you’re going to punish Harry for it and I don’t need to tell you how unfair that is. You get both things and he gets nothing? I mean, you both deserve the chance to be with people that make you happy.” You reasoned.

“Yeah…I know.” She whimpered before letting out another sob.

She continued crying for several more minutes before she had calmed down. You were gently rubbing her back as she was turned away from you. You could sense her shame, is was so great that it was suffocating the both of you. 

“Look, I think you need to have a nice relaxing shower. Wash the day away, yeah? And I can make you a really great cocktail and then we can watch a Mean Girls.” You suggested and she rolled over and gave you a confused look.

“That’s not a Christmas movie!” She exclaimed. Your family also had a rule that during the Christmas season you could only watch Christmas movies with another member of the family.

“Not entirely but it does contain one the most iconic Christmas scenes in cinematic history and that alone makes it Christmas-y enough!” You defended and she smirked.

“Your right. Love that movie.” She hummed and you smiled.

“I know.” You responded.

“Well, it sounds like a plan.” She said with a smile.

“Alright.” You confirmed. 

“On your way out can you send Harry in? I should apologize.” She decided and you nodded and got up to go. 

Harry was sitting on one of the pool chairs when you emerged from the pool house and he instantly sat up and glanced around to see you approaching. He looked a little nervous and you offered a small smile to reassure him some.

“She told me the truth.” You said and his looked surprised, “I know. And ummm, she asked if you’d give her a few, she wants to apologize.” You said and his features softened.

“Yeah, of course.” He said and immediately sat up.

“Good luck in there.”

“Thank you.” He smiled as you went your separate ways. Despite how badly you wanted to eaves drop in hopes for some indication of how the supposed apology was going, when you got to your bedroom you decided to have a shower instead. 

By the time you were out and making the cocktails, Harry was also arriving at the kitchen from his bedroom, freshly showered.

“Can you add a bit more f’me? I’m gonna watch the film with you two.”

“Oh, sure!” You agreed easily. “So it’s good with you guys?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” He assured and you were pleased with that.

And truly, for the rest of the day everything was great. It honestly felt like the tension that you’d sensed this entire time had evaporated and you hoped that it would stay that way for the remainder of the trip.

Day Six: 

It had been a really fun day with your family. You’d decided to go to the outlets, and on the way back stopped at the casino where you’d actually won nearly $1,200, just your luck. And then had an excellent dinner with everyone before you got back to the house. Despite your busy and exciting day, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling. To be fair it was only around 10pm, but you’d had a very long day. And then, the sound of a few quiet knocks on the door made you smile.

“Yeah?” You spoke up and Harry peeked into the bedroom with a smile on his face as well.

“Can’t sleep?”

“No.” You mumbled. “Come in.” You said and he hurried in and closed the door quietly.“Wanna smoke a bit?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yes, please.” He hummed with zeal and you chuckled as you got out of bed. You tended to get hot in bed, so you always wore something more revealing on top and some long bottoms. It was currently cool in the room though and the thin, baby blue tank you were wearing was leaving nothing to the imagination, so it was no surprise that Harry did a double take before quickly looking down at his phone.

“I’m gonna grab a sweater, s’cold out. Can you grab the weed? There’s a little black bag from the dispensary in the bedside drawer.” You instructed and he nodded. You hurried into your closet and grabbed the first one you saw and grabbed your lighter from your purse as you hurried out. And soon you and Harry were positioning the chairs so that the edge of the roof didn’t obstruct the view of the starry sky. 

“Just pick what you want.” You said and he started looking through the bag and pulled out a more indica heavy blend. “Ooh, good choice. But we’ll definitely need snacks. And water.” You said and he grinned. 

You made a quick trip to the kitchen and grabbed some cereal and milk because you figured that it would satiate the munchies and also hydrate you to counteract the cottonmouth. And with that settled you were finally passing the joint back and forth and staring up at the sky. You had been talking about TV shows and things you’d read, music you were into at the moment, it was really nice and comfortable with him. And after a moment of silence Harry turned to you.

“I have to ask…” he said and you turned to look at him and nodded, “Ummm, the day when you…walked in on me?” He asked and you nodded nervously, “Did you see everything?” He asked and your groaned and looked away bashfully and he chuckled. “No point in lying about it…” he said and you turned back, face beet red as you faced him.

“I didn’t. I promise!” You insisted.

“Okay…” he hummed, still in slight disbelief. 

“It’s true!” You pressed once more.

“I’m just teasing you.” He grinned.

“Well stop, it’s making me feel bad all over again!” You chuckled and he chuckled along with you.

“Don’t feel bad. I understand the curiosity just gets you sometimes.” He said and you hummed and shrugged in agreement. 

“So…what’s next for you. I-if you guys end things?”

“I don’t know…I’ve been approached about a tenure track opening at the university and I’m trying to decide if it’s worth it.” He said and you nodded in agreement.

“I know I could go back home…work at my alma mater…be closer to my family…”

“But?”

“In a way, going back would feel like defeat. Like I just wasted all of this time.” He said and you felt sad for him as he confessed this.

“Well, you got offered a tenure track position! Clearly you haven’t been wasting your time.” You encouraged him and he smiled.

“That’s true…”

“But I mean, if you decide to go back then at least you’ll be closer to your family.” You said with a smile.

“Well, my family is kind of a mess so…things are better with us when we have some distance between us.” He explained.

“Oh, I didn’t know that. Sorry.” You said.

“It’s alright.” He assured you. “Let’s talk about you… I know you’re a caring person but you’re just deflecting at this point.” he said and you smiled a bit and shrugged.

“It’s just…when I think about it I still get really sad.” You explained, with a sad smile on your face and his gaze softened.

“I saw the depression meds in the drawer. You know, you really shouldn’t smoke while you take them. You could get serotonin syndrome.” He said with concern.

“Oh, I haven’t started them. I was supposed to a few weeks ago And well, I had brought them to start on Sunday but I forgot.” You explained.

“Why haven’t you started them?”

“I don’t know…not any good enough reasons though.” You shrugged.

“Like?” He pressed and you sighed and just straightened out and looked at the beautifully starry sky. You hadn’t seen that many stars in a long time.

“My pride…” you chuckled dry and he sputtered out a laugh as he tried to keep quiet.

“Okay…in what way?”

“Just in the most obvious way…like this person affected me so much that it broke my mind and unbalanced by brain!” You whisper shouted and then sat up straight and brought the joint to your mouth and took a small hit before blowing out the smoke. “How could I let someone hold so much power over me?!” You chuckled in disbelief as your eyes welled up with tears and handed over the joint.

“This is not your fault. You loved and trusted, that’s not wrong.” He reassured you and you sighed. You watching him take a hit and then sighed.

“You’re right. But I still feel weak for it, you know? So ummm…yeah, not taking those meds yet and still surviving and finding joy every now and again, it makes me feel a little bit better.” You confessed.

“And you feel alright?”

“Yeah and getting better, too. Slowly but surely.”

“Okay. Promise you’ll take them when you start to plateau.” He requested as he handed back the dwindling joint.

“Promise.” You assured before taking the last hit and then smashing it against the ashtray to completely extinguish it. “Should we put something on and eat our cereal?”

“Yeah, lets do it.” You smiled.

Before you knew it, the both of you were reclining against the headboard with your cereal bowls and watching SNL highlights.

Day Seven:

Once again, you had woken up alone. You had gone on your walk and when you returned Harry and Julie were already in the kitchen.

“Great, you’re back! Guess what!?” Harry exclaimed.

“What?” You asked as you put your AirPods back into their case.

“Save Ferris has a show at Pappy and Harriet’s tonight!” 

“Oh, no way?!” You gasped in disbelief and your sister turned to you.

“You know who that is?” She asked and you nodded.

“I had a ska phase in high school.” You shrugged and she knocked her head back and laughed.

“Oh, right! God… glad you got through that.” She said and you flipped her off as you started to head to your room to shower. “So what? Do you want to go?” Julie asked and you stopped and turned towards her and then glanced to Harry who was smiling expectantly.

“Ummm…yeah! I’d like that actually.” You confirmed.

“Perfect! We’ll get the tickets, don’t worry about it. Merry Christmas.” She said to you and you smiled, “And well, I’m just going to get drunk because I don’t know that the fuck that band is.” She added and you chuckled.

“Well I think you’re going to have fun. And this is like a huge dream come true for me because I never thought I’d ever get to see them!” You said excitedly and she chuckled, “Thank you! I love you.” You said pointedly and then hurried off to shower.

All day the anticipation for this show was building up and building up. By the time you were leaving the house Julie was already tipsy. You were driving since they had paid, it was the least you could do, and you were actually glad you had driven, it was a nice distraction from just wanting to talk to Harry about anything and everything while your sister just laughed at TikTok’s in the backseat. You were also kinda worried that she might make herself car sick, especially as you started going up the winding roads to Pioneer Town.

You guys had intentionally arrived early to take a walk through the historical little western town. You looked through a few shops and then made your way to the saloon next door to the venue and had some tacos while you guys drank and chatted until it was time to make the short walk back to the venue. You guys waited in the merch line for a bit before heading over to the outdoor stage area and finding a spot to stand. Despite this not being a genre that your sister enjoyed, she was having a pretty decent time. And you and Harry had enjoyed the opener and also Save Ferris. You guys were bopping along and singing the songs. Your sister had a few more drinks during the show and by the the time it was all over she was draped around you as you guys headed to your car. 

“Want me to drive?” Harry asked as he opened the back right door to help you get Julie inside.

“I’m alright.” You assured him. Your sister groaned as she dropped down onto the seat. “Jules, seatbelt on please.” You said and she hummed.

“M’going, m’going…” she slurred. Once she was all strapped in you and Harry got settled in and you were making the drive back. It had only been a few minutes before you heard your sister slightly snoring from the back.

“Did she pass out?” You asked Harry and he glanced back and smiled.

“Yeah, she’s out.” He confirmed and you chuckled.

“Thanks for mentioning this show. It was super fun.” You smiled at Harry quickly before turning back to the road.

“I’m glad you had fun. You deserve it!” Harry explained with a smile, “Also, are you generally this great to go to shows with?” He asked and you giggled.

“I don’t know…I guess?”

“It’s just so nice to be present isn't it?” He asked and you nodded.

“Definitely. I get what you mean.” You agreed, “But specially here. It’s such an intimate venue. We couldn’t haven’t seen Save Ferris in a better place.” You gushed and he nodded with a wide smile. 

The rest of the way you guys were exchanging brief but charged glances. Even if you were just talking about the show and music, the air between you two was once again tense and you finally got a break from it when you arrived. You were giggling as you tried to get Julie inside as quietly as possible on your own since Harry had to pee. While you struggled with the task at hand, you had eventually made it to the pool house. She trudged in and just dropped herself on the bed and you chuckled before letting her be. When you returned to the main house Harry was in the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass of water.

“Want one?” He asked and you nodded.

“Please.” You confirmed and he handed the glass over to you before grabbing another for himself. You quickly drank it down and washed it before setting it back on the drying rack and then asking for his glass and washing his as well.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.” You hummed.

Moments later you were both walking down the dark hallway to get to your bedrooms. When you reached his door you stopped and he turned towards you.

“I also wanted to say that you look very pretty tonight.” He said softly and you smiled.

“Well thank you.” You responded bashfully.

“Of course.” He smiled nervously. You both looked at each other for a moment, the tension from before was rising between you again.

“Ummm, well…I should get to bed. Thank you again for finding this. I really did have the best time. I needed it.” You stated with a genuine smile as your gaze met his own. It lingered for a few more seconds before you felt all bashful again and you blinked away quickly. “Anyway, good night!” You chirped softly before he bid you a good night and you hurried into your room. 

You got changed and got ready for bed, but before you could get into it you felt a funny tug in your tummy. Yes, you had spent a whole afternoon basically with Harry, but having him in your room at night, it helped you sleep, through the whole night. Which as you’d mentioned to him before, was a current struggle of yours. And more than that, you liked the warmth of him beside you. You loved how deep and raspy his voice got as you spoke late into the night. You liked that one of your pillows smelled like him from how much of a habit it had become to have him come see you and you were working up the guts to go ask him. You hurried to your bedroom door and swung it open only to see Harry already a few steps away from your door. 

“Hi.” He smiled as he came closer.

“Hi.” You smiled up at him as he stood before you. “Wanna come in?” 

“Yeah.” He smiled and stepped inside. 

Before long you were propped up on the pillowed side by side, TV on some old reruns. You were barely paying attention because you were using all of your will power to try and not turn to face him. If you did, surely you’d lose all self-control and do something stupid like lean over to kiss him. Already, the warmth coming off of him was enough to make you want to close the small gap between the two of you. But then, from your peripherals you saw him steal a glance quickly. Your heart started to race, you were buzzing from head to toe as you debated whether to glance over as well. Your heart won that battle as you turned towards him and he smiled slightly.

“What?” You asked and he shrugged.

“Nothing just…we get along too well.” He shrugged and you smiled.

“Too well?” You asked and he hummed. “Maybe our personal situations are influencing a lot of the…vibes, you know?” You asked.

“Why do you say that?” He asked.

“Because, we’ve both been a bit neglected and disappointed by the people we loved. Like…for lack of better terms I think we’re both a little…thirsty.” You said as you giggled and he smiled.

“That’s true.” He smiled.

“And well, then with like the underlying sadness, sometimes you just aren’t thinking all that clearly about things that you’d normally just… push aside.”

“Like what?” He pressed and you sighed.

“Like why we suddenly have the hots for each other!” You whisper shouted and he chuckled. “Like I’m suddenly very aware of you.” You explained.

“I think that was from seeing me half naked.” He said and you groaned in embarrassment as you let yourself fall onto your pillows. “Hey, hey…” Harry giggled as he turned onto his side to face you, “I’m teasing you.” He assured as he glanced down at you.

“I know, but still not my finest moment.” You reminded him with a playful roll of your eyes. But then he reached for your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. 

“I almost kissed you the other day, which…is equally as bad so I’d say we’re both on thin ice. And well, it’s not like I don’t want to now or something…Like I know that no one would find out about it-”

“What If they do somehow?” You asked nervously.

“They won’t. But if they did, it’s not like I was gonna be around you guys for much longer any way, with the divorce an all…” he said with a small shrug.

“So you’re going to get divorced?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah. Gonna get it going when we get back home.” He said and you nodded. 

Your eye contact with him didn’t waiver for another few seconds and before you knew it, you were both leaning in slowly. He exhaled shakily before you finishing closing the gap between your lips. It was just a small and quick touch of your lips together before you both pulled away. Your noses were nearly touching as you just hovered near each other for a few seconds. But from one second to the next, his will power snapped and he was kissing you again gently. Over and over, in quick little pecks, lips smearing together for seconds at a time, both too scared to kiss with a bit more fervor as to not find out just how far it could go. But like he said, no would find out…

“Fuck it then.” You whispered as you reached around his neck and he pulled you in closer by the waist. Your kiss deepened quickly, you moaned at the taste of his mouth, feeling his tongue smooth over your lips and for his teeth to nibble at your bottom lip… you were reeling. Falling blissfully into a state of non-worry as you sunk into the delicious mattress and were blankets by Harry’s warmth and weight over you. His constant squeeze at your hip was telling you that his body was screaming to do more with his hands, but he was trying not to do too much. You pulled away from the kiss quickly, smiling as he chanted after your lips, “Just wanna tell you that you can…” you trailed off as he smooched over your lips quickly, “Y-you can touch me more.” 

As soon as you gave him the green light he slid his warm hand down the side of your thigh and to the underside where he hoisted it up around his own hip. Then he smoothed his hand back up your thigh, then up your waist, but from under your shirt. And slowly, he covered more skin until he was sliding his big, warm palm over your breast. You moaned as he gave it a gentle squeeze. The curiosity with which he was feeling you out was reminiscent of a very early sexual experience you had with some guy at a birthday party in the 8th grade, with all that seven minutes in heaven shit. 

“So you’re a boobs guy…” you giggled as he swiped his thumb over your hardening nipple.

“Definitely a boobs guy.” He mumbled into your lips before kissing you a few more times. “Can I take your shirt off?” He asked and you bit your lip as you weighed out your options. But who were you kidding, the thought of having those same lips all over your breasts had you slicking up your underwear even more than they already were. 

“Yeah.” You consented verbally and you sat up as he helped pull your body free from the shirt and then dropped it on an empty part of the bed. 

Harry’s warm, smooth lips started to kiss down your jaw, nibbling a few times on his way down to the column of your neck. You held in your giggles as his stubble tickling your sensitive skin. He had both of his hands on your breasts now as he sat over you, he was teasing your nipples, being so light and airy with his touches, it had you squirming. You knew he’d get there soon, but soon wasn’t happing as fast as you wanted.

“Please!” You whimpered and he glanced up at you and smirked.

“I’m going.” He assured you and he lowered himself until he was face level with your breasts.

He wasted no time in parting his lips and sucking your nipple between them. You whimpered and wove your fingers into his hair. He sucked harder and you gripped at his hair harder. His other hand kneaded over your other breast as you writhed beneath him. And as you wiggled around trying to part your legs to wrap around him, he pulled one out from under him and lowered his hips a bit as you ground up and that’s when you felt the bulge in his pants. He was so fucking hard.

“Fuck.” He sighed as he kissed back up your neck and finally back at your lips as he started to grind his cock against you. One of your hands slid up his arm, feeling at his bulging muscles. The other slid down to his backside, encouraging him to keep going. It wasn’t so much the feeling of the dry hump as it was the desperation that existed between you two. It would feel wrong to fuck so quickly, but you wanted to so badly that you were both willing to settle for this. It was a little bit sick and a lot pathetic, a true reflection of you two as you made out sloppily while rubbing fronts. 

You’d been struggling with your sex drive since the depression and you really hadn’t needed to be in tune with it, seeing as you had planned to steer clear of anything with another person for the foreseeable future. But now here you were, wetter than you’d been in months, feeling the fabric of your underwear clinging to the skin of your pussy. You needed more if you were going to come and you really, really wanted to come. 

“Harry…Harry…” you mumbled against his lips, “Take these off.” you panted as you tugged at the band of his pants and boxer briefs.

“Sure?” He asked and you nodded.

“It’ll be easier to come like that.” You said and he smiled. “What?”

“I just…hadn’t really thought about that, I was just kinda happy to be here.” He chuckled and you giggled.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just got a little carried away, s’been a while.” You explained.

“For me too. I want to…I just want to make sure, you know?” 

“Well, thank you for making sure.” You whispered and he smiled down at you before kissing you again. You two struggled for a bit as he tried to get his pants off without stopping the kisses, but eventually you had to and you watched was he knelt up onto the bed. His cock was so fucking pretty, it made you salivate. He wasn’t shaved clean but he was definitely trimmed. You also wanted to get his balls in your mouth and make him squirm with pleasure. You also started to get your pants off and he helped you pull them off of your legs. Your underwear matched with the sleep tank you had on, a nice baby blue color, but they did nothing to hide how fucking wet you were. 

After tearing off his shirt, Harry had you legs spread, holding you down by the backs of the thighs as he slid his cock over your clothed crease. Back and forth, over and over, the head of his cock was colliding with your clit. His foreskin was starting to pull back to reveal his tip, meaning that despite how hard he already felt to you, he had more to go. You were trying to keep your sounds at a minimum, but you were starting to get close to the edge. The steady pace Harry was going at, plus the weight and warmth of his cock gliding over you and between your sticky pussy lips, you were started to fall apart.

“You’re gonna make me come so hard…” you moaned and he groaned and kissed you.

“Good, baby. Come for me.” He mumbled against your lips and you nodded. You were inhaling his exhales as you kissed sloppily. You could feel your legs starting to tense up and your walls starting to tighten inside of you as the pleasure started to become more concentrated in the pit of your core. It was so hot and tingly and lovely, it was starting to ache, you could feel your slick starting to pump out of your needy little hole. If Harry decided to try put it in you’d let him do it. Just processing that thought and how possible it was had your orgasm overcoming you. Your breath hitched and your whole body went stiff for a second before the pleasure just exploded. A gratifying moan slipped past your lips and Harry was quick to cover your mouth, chuckling lowly as you got lost in the pleasure of the orgasm. He watched your breasts bounce and jiggle beautifully as your body rolled gently with the waves of your orgasm. You were gripping the sheets so tight that your fingers slightly ached but if just felt so good. Even as he kept going, you welcomed the sensitivity. He puled his hand from your mouth and reached for one of your boobs again before glancing down at his cock all slicked up with your slick and cum.

“Fuck I’m gonna come!” Harry mumbled and you bit your lip in anticipation. Opposite of what you expected, he slowed his pace and then grabbed the crotch of your panties and pulling it to the side. He moaned as he saw your whole pussy and then laid his cock over it again a few times and then very intentionally, he pressed against your entrance, it was making your tremble. “Fuck…gonna let me come all over your pussy?” He asked as he looked up at you and you nodded, mouth agape, eyes nearly closed from the insurmountable waves of lust.

“Please, need it so bad.” You encouraged his orgasm. And moments later he was groaning lowly as you felt his thick, warm load start to spill all over your pussy. His slow ruts against you were making you melt and you propped your self up on your elbows to se the mess he was making against you. “Do you always cum that much? Fuck…” you chuckled as you glanced up at him and he just smirked at you as he came to a slow stop.

“Do you feel bad?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Not yet at least…” you added and he nodded.

“Okay, me either.” He assured you. “Just wanted to check before I kissed you again.”

“Oh, okay.” You whispered as he leaned in and kissed you slowly again.

Eventually you got cleaned up and back into bed with him. You knew that you would wake up alone, but still weren’t sure if you’d be happy about it or not.

Day Eight: 

When your eyes opened the following morning you felt fine. You weren’t afraid to face Harry, you weren’t regretful of what you’d done. However, you did find yourself wondering when you’d be able to get away with it again. What did concern you is how he would feel about it this morning. He was eager in the heat of the moment but what about now, after the post nut clarity? The more and more you gave it some thought the more you psyched yourself out and were avoiding joining everyone for breakfast. You were in your patio, smoking a joint to help you build up some appetite, but also to help you relax and be normal when you were in the same room with your aunt, parents, and brother in law who had just come loads over your bare pussy, and of course, your sister, his wife. Well, soon to be ex-wife, but still! It wasn’t official yet!

Finally you decided to bite the bullet and headed towards the kitchen. You greeted everyone good morning and then glanced to Harry who flashed you an easy smile. 

“You alright?” He asked. What sounded like the most casual question to everyone else was the most charged question between you and him. You smiled and nodded.

“Yeah. All good.” You reassured him and he smiled and nodded silently before continuing to eat his breakfast.

OMG SORRY FRIENDS! FOTGOT TO TAAAAG!

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