#tried to make this fit with both books and movies

[rainintheevening]

It's Edmund who figures it out first, you know, who Aslan is. Like, a week after they're back in England, they go with the Professor to the little village church, and they stand and sing Amazing Grace, and the rector preaches something about Jesus dying for sinners, and Edmund is nailed to the pew with utter certainty: That's Aslan.

He doesn't say it directly to anybody, he has to chew it over, has to test it and try it, and see if it holds true. He and the Professor have many lively discussions about what Narnia actually is, what it's for, what other worlds would mean for science or philosophy or theology. But every time he goes back to the Bible and reads it, he finds echoes of Narnia, echoes of the Lion's voice, and the truth settles into him, becomes something solid and certain deep down inside.

Peter... sees the possibility almost as quickly. He's not so sure of it though, is a bit shy of something so incredible, doesn't want to get it wrong. He wants it to be true. He thinks about it a lot. But he doesn’t say any of it aloud, until he says to Aslan, at the end of his last trip to Narnia. It gets decided then, in there somewhere. He doesn't understand how or why, but he will believe anyway.

Lucy, now, Lucy always knew in a way that was beyond words, unconsciously, deep inside somewhere she never stopped to examine. She stands in Eustace's room, with Aslan’s words ringing in her ears, and it's like a light bulb has come on, or a bucket of cold water has been dumped over her head. Oh. Oh, that's what he meant, oh, now I understand.

And Susan, dear Susan, she suspects, she wonders, but no. Impossible. Too strange, too illogical. Waves it away like a nagging fly. But she figures it out years later, not too late, no sir, not too late at all. Maybe it's a book, maybe it's a song, maybe it's retelling the Easter story to a little girl curled up in her lap. Maybe it's an old poem pulled from the wreckage of a train. She pauses, startled, before the tears come tumbling down, and she murmurs the name she hasn't spoken in what feels like a lifetime, murmus it like a prayer: Aslan.

Jesus.

[freelancearsonist]

make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. ���Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

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[futurewdclandonorris]

Friends Don't | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: you go out to celebrate George's home race win, not even imagining what the night will bring

Warnings: smut, drunk driving, unprotected sex

A/N: you will maybe have to necessarily read part 1 and part 2 hehe. For the sake of the plot, we'll pretend some things already happened. I've spent the whole week writing this and only got it to all click together from the third attempt. Third time's a charm, right? But at least had a blast while editing, which is a rarity. I actually enjoy writing these 'chapters' and building this world sm <3

Sundays were a day for rest and relaxation. A day for sitting down with a good book and a cup of coffee. A day for cuddling up with a loved one and watching a movie. A day for taking some time for yourself; a day to reflect and recharge.

That was, of course, unless your best friend was George Russell. And that your Sundays didn't consist of spending most weekends a year at different race tracks around the world. Not all of them, but you tried to be there for him at least once or twice a month, as much as the opportunity allowed.

That afternoon, George took the checkered flag in Silverstone in P1 and now you were in your room, preparing for tonight's celebration. The victory party was going to be wild, and you knew it. You had seen how George celebrated previous wins, and tonight was going to be no different. Especially because it was his home race.

You took a deep breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. You had dressed to impress, wearing a sparkly blue dress that fit you perfectly. Finishing your look with a pair of strappy heels and a silver necklace, you couldn't help but think about how previous events with George brought you even closer together.

Your friendship kind of became more... intimate. No pun intended. Guess you were both afraid not to lose each other over the past experiences, and that deepened your bond whether either of you wanted to admit or not. Now your only fear was that your closeness wouldn't tear you apart.

A soft knock pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned around to see George standing at the door with a sheepish grin on his face. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his hair tousled in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, his voice low and husky. "Ready to party?"

Never before have you paid any mind to the nicknames he called you, but now a thrill ran down your spine. The way he looked at you made you feel like the only person in the world.

"I am," you said, smiling at him.

As you stepped out of the door, George took your hand in his and led you to the car waiting outside. The drive to the club was short, but the anticipation was high. The party was in full swing when you arrived; loud music, flashing lights, and the smell of alcohol filled the air.

George led you to the VIP section where his friends and family were already celebrating. You saw his siblings and a few of his close racing buddies. You could hear their loud cheering as they saw George walk in with you and feel the envious glares of the other women in the room.

George handed you a glass of champagne and raised his own in a toast. "To the best damn team in the world," he said, looking at you and his friends.

Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses together. You took a sip of the bubbly liquid, feeling it go down smoothly. The night was young, and the energy in the room was electric.

The party kept going on as the night deepened, and the noise of the songs blasted through the room. Glasses were filled up with drinks constantly, making it more of an effort to ignore the effects of the booze. You found yourself on the dance floor, surrounded by George and his friends. The bass of the music throbbed in your chest, and you let yourself get lost in the rhythm.

Throughout the night, each person had a chance to take their turn with you on the dance floor, and eventually you were spinning around in George's arms. The heat of the club mixed with the buzz of the alcohol made your skin flush against his. You could feel his muscles flexing as he twirled you around, his hand firmly holding onto yours. The closer you danced, the more the tension between you grew.

For a moment, you forgot where you were and who was watching. You moved on him like it was just the two of you in the world, your hands moving over his body like never before, and hips swaying in perfect synchronicity. You were so close to him that you could feel his breath on your neck, and the scent of his cologne filled your senses. You felt yourself getting lost in him, and something stirred inside you.

And it seemed like George caught up on your odd behavior as the song faded away. He grabbed your arm and started leading you away from the dance floor until you reached a quiet corner. But your drunken mind wasn't understanding his intentions.

You threw yourself onto him and he had to secure your hips with his hands to stop you from slipping. You let out a hazy chuckle as you started grinding against him once more before he pushed you back against the wall.

"Stop it, that's not why I brought you here."

But you didn't listen. You pulled yourself even closer, letting your lips brush against his neck. "Then why did you bring me here?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, your breath tickling his skin. "The drinks have gone to your head. I brought you here to take a break and cool off a little." he avoided telling you that you were drunk and not acting like yourself, afraid to provoke any unnecessary argument between you two.

Still, you weren't paying any attention. You were too inebriated to realize that your behavior was a little out of character, and you certainly weren't considering the consequences of your actions. You clasped your hands around his shoulders and pressed yourself against him again.

George tried to keep a respectable distance between you, pushing his hip backwards as you pushed yours forward, fighting the urge to get too close. That got you into an interesting position; you were leaning against the wall in between his arms with your shoulders as he leaned into you with his upper body. Your hand naughtily ran down his side, poking him. You knew you probably shouldn't touch him, but you couldn't stop yourself. His muscles strained as he let out a shaky breath.

"You're getting awfully close to me," he murmured, unable to bring himself to look you in the eye. His fingers slowly slid from their grip on the wall.

"Then don't push me away," you said back.

His face was just inches away now, and your lips unconsciously moved closer. The atmosphere between you two was thick with anticipation, a feeling that you currently relished in. Your lips were only a breath away from his when he spoke.

"We can't." his eyes locked with yours.

"Why?" you asked breathily.

"Because we're best friends." his voice was barely a whisper.

He hoped the reason he gave you would remind you of everything you asked from him that first time. But he didn't tell you that he feared you'd regret it when you sobered up, and that it would be his fault for not stopping it.

"And?" in the state that you were, did he really think that would stop you? He couldn't have been more wrong. You wanted to push him to feel something. Anything. "Best friends can do a lot of things." you smirked.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes still on yours. "No, they can't." he gritted, shaking his head.

"You're right." you said, the alcohol clouding your judgment. "They can't do this." and your hips finally met his.

He swallowed hard, trying to stay level headed. "What am I going to do with you?" he said in desperation, his hands pressed flat on the wall behind you, trying their best not to touch you as they dangerously started slipping down.

You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heart hammering under your palms as you glided them down his torso. "Remember how you said you can read my body language?"

"Yeah," he breathed, nodding his head.

"What is it telling you now?" you whispered against his lips.

"It's telling me we're going to be in big trouble if you don't stop this," he replied. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."

"Then don't fight it. Show me." you murmured.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours. Your arms snaked around his neck and fingers twined through the hair at its nape, pulling him closer. You couldn't believe that you had done all those other things, but never kissed. And when ultimately his mouth closed on yours, it was like finally locating the elusive jigsaw piece on a seemingly ordinary Tuesday while tidying up your home that you thought had been lost forever. It made you almost not want to kiss anyone else ever again — almost, because deep down you knew you shouldn't have been doing this in the first place.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his head tilted to get a better angle. The kiss was soft, tentative, like both of you were very aware of what might happen. You pressed your mouth against his more firmly, tasting him. Parting your lips slightly, you felt the silky wetness of his tongue on yours. You bit his lower lip, letting out a deep moan when he groaned in response, hands that were in his hair tugging on the strands slightly. He groaned into your mouth again, pulling you even closer against him. You had no idea how long you were kissing, but it was definitely not enough.

The kiss broke, and you leaned your face against his neck, panting heavily. He glanced down at you, his lips so close to yours that if you had merely lifted your head, they'd be touching again. The warmth emanating from your body made him want to do things he knew he shouldn’t. He placed his forehead against yours, trying desperately to get control of himself.

"We should get back." he said between breaths. Your head was spinning from the alcohol and his scent and the magical kiss, it took you a moment to realize you were no longer kissing him. You opened your eyes and met with him.

"We should, before they realize we're missing." you nodded. He frowned, but his eyes were smiling. He was relieved, but he was also worried for you and what tomorrow might bring when you sobered up.

"Lets go," he said, turning around, but kept an arm around your waist so as to not let you get lost. You looped one arm around his neck, holding onto his shoulder, and gently hit his other shoulder with your head.

The night was still young and the party was still going. Music was playing, people were dancing, and laughter filled the room. Your friends cheered when they saw you two come in together, but neither of you paid any attention to them; all that mattered was that you were here, with him. Guys grabbed drinks for the both of you from different parts of the room and put it in your hands.

You found a spot on the couch and George sat next to you, his arm around your waist protectively. The conversations flowed easily between you two, and soon enough you both forgot what had happened earlier as you joined the rest of the group in drinking, singing along with music and laughing.

He later found you on the dance floor swaying around completely out of rhythm with a drink in your hand. Your face lit up when you saw him.

"There you are, my champion." you leaned into him, dropping your head onto his shoulder.

"I won the race, not the championship.” he chuckled.

“Mm, don’t care. To me you are the champion.” you slurred, pouting.

“Hey, is everything alright?" he asked, supporting you.

"Mmhmm." you mumbled. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine." you could hear the frown on his face. "You're drunk." he spat as he attempted to take away the half empty glass from your grasp.

"I'm not." you said, feeling yourself lose your balance a little as you swayed back and forth. He put his arm around you to help you balance.

"Yes, you are. I should've taken you home the first time around." he sighed, somehow not surprised you managed to get even drunker. You were both intoxicated for that matter, it's just that George knew how to hold his liquor. And he looked to never go over his limit in case something like this happened.

"No." you tried to pull away from him.

"I'm taking you home." he tightened his grip around you, leading you out of the party. You mumbled something in response, not quite sure what you were saying.

He helped you into his car and buckled your seat belt for you, before getting in himself. He drove slowly, carefully navigating the roads while you were almost passed out in his passenger seat. Every now and then he'd take a hand off the wheel to reach over and brush your hair away from your face or wipe away a stray tear from your cheek if one escaped your eye. As he turned into your street and parked the car, your eyes fluttered open.

"Um, could you walk me to the door?" you asked.

"I was planning on it," he said, unbuckling his seat belt.

Both of your arms wrapped around his left one, holding on for support, as he walked you to your apartment. Your little nap helped clear the haze from your head, but you were still tipsy. When you reached the entrance of your flat, you propped yourself against the door and blinked up at him.

"Do you want to come inside?" inviting your best friend into your home have never before seemed more dangerous and George should've known better than to say yes.

"Do you want anything to drink?" you asked to break an awkward silence that fell among you the moment he shut the door.

Before even waiting for his answer, you made your way towards the kitchen, but he extended his arm and grabbed your waist, preventing you from moving further.

"I think we both had enough to drink tonight," he said.

"Then what do you want to do?" you whispered.

"I want to claim my prize." he must have had a few more drinks than usual at the club to summon up the courage for that sentiment.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest, the alcohol still fogging your mind but not enough to miss the implication of his words. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. His hand still rested on your waist, his fingers tracing small circles over the fabric of your dress.

"Is that what I am, a prize?"

"No, no." he said quickly, his eyes softening. "You're so much more than that, you know that." his hand cupped the side of your face. "When I saw you looking up at me on the podium today, I realized I couldn't have done it without you. You were the one who had been cheering me on from the sidelines all this time. You've been there for me when no one else was." he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You've been my lucky charm all these years and I want to show you how much you mean to me."

The way he was looking at you made your chest heave with a mixture of emotions. You were both under the influence, and you knew this was not the best time to make decisions, but you couldn't resist him. You leaned in and attached your lips together again, only this time with more passion, more desire. You could feel his hands running through your hair as he kissed you back, his tongue playing with yours, his body pressing against yours.

He pulled away, looking at you with a hunger you had never seen before. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, unable to say anything. His lips crashed onto yours, hungrily claiming your mouth as his own. Your body responded to his touch, your hands roaming over his chest and tangling in his hair. He lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He laid you down gently on the mattress, his eyes never leaving yours. Climbing on top of you, his lips trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone. You moaned softly, your hands gripping tightly onto his muscular back. He pulled his lips away from you, looking into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

You nodded, reaching up and pulling him back down. He gently kissed you again and you responded in kind, but he pulled away again.

"I'll stop if you tell me to." he whispered. "I don't want to do this unless you want to." 

"I want to." you murmured. The alcohol may have distorted your judgment, but it surely helped your courage.

"Are you sure?" he asked a third time. You laughed softly, trying to push him off. He had you pinned to the mattress, still pressing you down.

"Yes, I'm sure." you said, no longer laughing.

That was all he needed to hear. He kissed you hard, his fingers lightly tracing over the fabric of your dress. He ran his hands underneath, gently resting them on your ribs, and pulled your dress upwards. You lifted your hands above your head, freeing him of the task of removing your dress as you squiggled out of it and freed yourself from the restriction that was your dress.

He kissed you again, letting his hands run over your bare skin. His lips kissed down your throat and chest, his hands undoing your bra. He pulled it away and tossed it aside, taking in the sight of you.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said. You blushed, and he smiled. His lips traveled down your leg, gently caressing the outside of your thigh. "But I'm a little jealous, you know?" his lips traveled back up, his tongue tracing over the slope of your breast and hands kneading them softly. "You got to taste me, and I..."

He kissed his way down your body, his hands going over every inch of exposed skin, reminding you how skillfully he handled you that very first time. He reached your inner thigh and slid his hand underneath your underwear. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his fingers brush against you before a long finger slid inside you. You moaned loudly, spreading your legs apart for him. He smiled against your neck, his teeth taking in your skin, his tongue leaving a trail of fire behind.

His finger slowly moved inside you, circling you before sliding in and out. His hand pulled your underwear down, you kicking them off to the side. His mouth moved down your figure, hovering over your breasts. He teased you for a moment, blowing against your nipples before drawing the tip of his tongue over one. He did the same with the other, his fingers never ceasing to move. His kisses continued further down, over your stomach until they reached your mound.

"Can I?" he asked, peeking at you.

"Please..." you tried to hide the shake in your voice.

His tongue slid between your lips, gently licking you. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy against your sensitive skin. He teased you, his tongue circling your clit before sliding inside you. His tongue flicked over your clit, his hands holding your thighs apart. You spread your legs even wider, your body arching up to him. He leaned in, gently sucking on your clit and you moaned loudly, his tongue moving faster. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against his face.

You were nearing your end, your moans growing louder with every movement of his tongue. You could feel his lips smile against your skin, enjoying the sounds you were making. You cried out, your body tensing as you came, shaking against him. He pulled away, slowly kissing his way up to the top again. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, not hurrying you up as you sucked in his bottom lip, squeezing out your own juices.

"Taking that trophy is the second best thing that has ever happened to me." he whispered. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, your hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt. "The first, of course, being you. You're my greatest reward." he continued as you trailed kisses down his neck, removing the shirt off his shoulders.

"Stop talking, George."

"Sorry," he whispered as he closed his eyes, surrendering above you.

You kissed his chest, your nails raking up and down his sides, feeling his muscles tense. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and could sense the urgency in his touch. His hardness pressed against you, begging to be liberated. You pulled away from him, reaching for his belt buckle and his eyes shot open, hands reaching for yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. He knew if you go any further there would be no going back and some irreversible things would be done.

"Are you sure?" you asked back, smiling mischievously. "I thought this is what you wanted." your nail dangerously circled around his lower abdomen, causing his breath to hitch with every word he spoke.

"I-I do. I'm just making sure you're not doing it just because I want it." you could tell he was really struggling to hold himself back.

"I think we've already established that..." you whispered against his lips and prompted your body more to his.

"Okay," his hand moved away from yours, and you undid his belt.

His pants fell around his feet and he kicked them off. His boxers were the last thing left, and you reached for them, slowly pulling them down. His hand held the back of your head as he kissed you, his tongue twirling around yours. You moved to pull away but he held on tighter.

His boxers hit the floor and you looked up at him, his hands resting on your frame. Gently taking your hand, he placed it on his dick. You gasped, feeling it grow even more underneath your touch. He pulled away, his lips planting kisses down your neck as his hand guided yours up and down his length. You felt him shiver as you grazed the tip with your nails, his breath hitching. He removed his hand, and your eyes shot open when you felt his tip brush against your entrance.

He teased you, running it up and down your slit. You threw your head back in pleasure, your back arching against him. The more he prolonged what you needed the most, the more your neediness grew. You tried to guide him inside you but he resisted, placing a finger on your lips instead. He dragged it over them before he made you suck on it, his eyes never leaving your face as he blew a stream of air out. Your eyes widened when you felt his head brush against you again, making you gasp audibly, his name falling from your lips.

"Please," you remembered what he told you the first time he had you in his arms like this. "Please, please, please, please, please, please, please..." you chanted over and over again.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath. Hearing you beg for him made his head spin again. It was like you'd put him under a spell every time you'd utter that word and he'd not be able to deny you anything. Not that he ever wanted.

He slowly pushed inside of you, stopping at every inch to wait for you to adjust. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

You nodded, your breath hitching as he began to move again. He kissed you, your nails digging into his back as he stretched you more. He was so gentle, it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. This was not the normal rough, lustful sex. This was the man who loved the sight of you, the sounds of your pleasure. This was the man who wanted to make love to you, to show you what true pleasure was.

Your fingers sank into his back again, and he responded by thrusting into you harder, your moans getting louder. His lips traveled down your chest, his tongue flicking a nipple as he pushed into you again.

"Oh, god." you moaned, George's name falling from your mouth repeatedly. Your hands dug into the sheets as his thrusts grew harder, deeper.

"You feel so good... so damn good," he kissed your skin. "Making me feel like I don't ever want to take anybody else again."

"Don't stop, please, whatever it is that you're doing, please, just don't stop." you cried, twining your legs around him to press him deeper.

He moaned in pleasure when you did, his hands tightening their grip around you. His breathing grew heavier and faster, your bodies reacting to each other. He was so close, and he could feel you held right on the edge.

You cried out his name, your form shuddering under him. He had no intention of stopping, and he continued his movements as you kept shaking, your voice loud enough to wake up the whole apartment complex.

"You, George, only you…" you whispered into his ear as you were coming down.

You felt his whole build shake, his cock pulsing inside of you, but it wasn't enough. You wanted to hear him as he climaxed. You wanted to hear the sounds he made, the sweetest song in the world.

"George… George…" you panted, your breathing coming out in jagged breaths.

He cursed, as his body trembled with pleasure. His hands tightened around you, pulling you closer as he came. You buried your face in his neck, your fingers playing with his hair. He kissed you, holding you close to him. He wanted to stay inside you forever, to feel the sight of your face as he pleased you. You did that to him. You were the one making him see another reality where only he and you existed.

But he pulled away, your eyes searching for his as you slowly came back to reality. He kissed you again, his lips landing on yours.

"That was amazing… you were amazing…" he whispered, stroking your face gently.

"So were you." you said back, playing with the bangs that fell over his forehead.

He rested his head on your chest, finding a comfortable spot, your hands moving into his hair.

"Are you going to stay?" you whispered, uncertain.

"Only if you want me to."

"Always."

He hugged you tightly and rolled over so that you were now on top of him. His fingers softly ran along your back as your body let go and fully relaxed. The peaceful sound of your heartbeats and his breath seemed to take over the room. You drew near to him, feeling the up and down movements of his chest gently rock you to sleep, matters of your friendship left for tomorrow's morning news.

Next part

[amuyyi]

unfiltered y/n .

synopsis; two drabbles of y/n being the oldest of newjeans, yet arguably the most chaotic and childish. 21 year old y/n who's very gen z coded and borderline chronically online from a young age.

trope; platonic! newjeans x f!reader, just danielle + hyein bc im lazy

wc; 1.9k

cw; n/a

a/n; guys i think i fr forgot how to write erm so sorry this is dookie but i needed to write something lighthearted to keep my sanity even tho writers block is real rn thumbs up emoji ... also y/n is just me again LMFAO

Humming, your eyes glaze over the Phoning chat. You and Danielle sat comfortably within your practice room, the younger girl joining shortly after seeing you had started a livestream. There was no particular reason for this stream, you simply felt like entertaining your fans for the day. Throughout the livestream, you and Danielle simply talked, being some of the most social and extroverted members of Newjeans, it wasn’t hard for you two to popcorn different topics from one another.

“Did you ever read Warriors?”

“What, that book series about the emo cats?”

“They’re not emo– well…. Actually…”

Both you and Danielle burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to explain the lore of the Warrior Cats series, which then went into you making a powerpoint on why your company should allow you to have a cat in the dorms, which then went into a conversation about how you guys wanted to decorate your ideal home…

When you and Danielle were put into a room together, it almost seemed like you two fueled each other's energy in a never ending cycle. Still, as your laughter dies down, the pair of you decide to just chill, even for a moment. Your attention gets drawn back to the comments whilst Danielle aimlessly scrolled on her phone for a bit.

“y/n, who are your favorite kpop artists??” You read out loud.

Your eyes light up at this question. Before becoming a trainee, you were a die hard fan of many groups back when you were younger. Honestly.. You were a bit of a chronically online kid, despite your social tendencies. Back in the day, you ran a kpop stan twitter, and are well versed in the new vocabulary of online meme culture… as embarrassing as it was to admit the more you thought about it. 

After reading the comment, the mischievous and playful glint in your eye was impossible to ignore, and Dani seemed to pick up on the shift in energy. Shooting you a suspicious glance, you decide to speak up.

“Ah there are so many groups I love… But.. I’d have to say Red Velvet and LOONA...!”

It was an innocent enough answer at a glance, but to some, the underlying message behind it was glaringly obvious.

Almost immediately after speaking, in the most obvious and not discreet fashion, you freeze, arching a brow making a curious looking expression at the camera as you pucker your lips. It was undeniable that you were referencing an all too familiar meme within the LGBTQ community.

Honestly, you were never one to shy away from your sexuality. You were lucky enough to know who you were from a young age. (All of your odd childhood crushes practically spoke for themselves. Rain from the movie Spirit, for example. The horse.) 

It wasn’t long before the girls caught onto you, and they have been nothing but supportive since. Oftentimes they would tease you over your clinginess with your other members, or how you’d very publicly fawn over other female idols, while nearly all of the light drained from your eyes when approached by a man. 

In hindsight, it was a surprise that they didn’t catch on sooner. The way you acted so stiff around male idols when forced to do Tiktoks with them, or how you never entertained their advances. However, it seemed like Some fans did seem to notice faster than your own members, and deemed you “Irene's daughter” as a result— a title in which you wear with pride, might you add! 

That wasn't to say you didn't have your own hardships and struggles with your sexuality at the same time, though. Of course, being a part of one of the biggest kpop groups of your generation, you couldn’t express your sexuality publically. Not yet. It was too risky. A large chunk of your fan base consisted of straight men anyways… Potential backlash would be detrimental. You didn’t want to drag the others down with you. Not when you guys have so much ahead together.

So you keep your head low, put on your best smile, and focus on your members.

….Until moments like these, of course.

Eyes practically boggling out of her head, Danielle bursts into laughter, shoving your shoulder with one hand while she covers her face with her sweater sleeve.

“Unnie…!” she scream-whispers, baffled by your words. Of course she knew what you were hinting at, she didn’t live under a rock her whole life.

Seeing Danielles reaction only seems to egg you on though. What? You weren’t saying anything explicitly queer. Only the people that mattered would know. Worst case scenario, you’d be in some odd rumor or speculation that had no real evidence to back you up. Maybe you’d be seen as an ally. Humming once again, you pretend to think.

“Though if you want to know about male artists….” You take a significantly longer time to answer this as Danielle is left a giggling mess next to you. She seemed almost a little distressed through the laughter, but she trusted you.

“I would probably say I like EXO and Shinee the most.”

Once again, you make that damn face, and Danielle throws her head back in hysterical laughter. She grabs your shoulder and shakes you around, whispering quiet scoldings into your ear as you snicker, feigning an innocent look as the chat practically blows up.

[cha3wonz] – HELLO???? [kaheii] – y/n blow a kiss if u like women [luv__newjeans] – okay ally

Unsurprisingly, clips of your shared live with Danielle went viral. Many stan accounts on twitter began to speculate that you were queer, whilst others fully embraced it. Your favorite posts were the edits of you with the rainbow flag followed up by a question mark. It was all too good.

Honestly, you didn’t even think it was a big deal. You didn’t pay much attention to other male groups– you never did, really, but when you looked at the new incoming generation of boy group members… They practically had the whole pride parade following them. 

There were a few minor articles about you here and there, but you were mostly off the hook.

Danielle lay sprawled across your back whilst you lay on her bed, scrolling through Twitter aimlessly as she laughs at the comments on your recent instagram post.

“It seems that your fangirls can't get enough of you, lovergirl,” she teases lightheartedly as you wiggle beneath her weight, giggling.

Maybe one day you’ll share the news to your fans, and maybe one day they won’t even be surprised. But you’re glad to have what you have now. Just you, your girls, and your ever growing folder of queer y/n memes off of Twitter.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Hyein was in the middle of a solo livestream within her bedroom, lying comfortably in her bed as she showcased various articles of clothing she had bought with Hanni the day prior.

The livestream was going well, peaceful as Hyein makes her way through several t shirts, sweaters, pants, and skirts of all colors and styles.

Right when Hyein was about to reveal her favorite article of clothing from the haul, loud, almost desperate banging rings throughout the room. An almost pathetic sounding yelp of surprise erupts from the girl before she curiously glances at the livestream. 

Leaning forward, she whispers to the camera, “I think… I think there's a creep trying to break in…” 

Suddenly, the door bursts open, with a very flustered and irritated y/n tumbling in shortly after. iPad in hand, you collapse into the bed next to Hyein

“Guys, guy, GUYS. The theme was scene!!! What the hell is this?! Look at THIS versus MY outfit!” You exclaim almost a little too loudly as you shove the ipad in front of the camera. Failing to focus on your screen properly, the viewers simply saw a bright white square as you groaned.

Baffled and still a bit in shock, Hyein speaks up, “Unnie, it's really not that serio–”

“This is bullsh–” You cut yourself off as Hyein snorts loudly at your near slip up. Clearing your throat, you grip your ipad a little tighter than needed, trying to calm down.

“This is unfair. And you know what's worse? Its probably some nine year old with their friends voting for them behind the screen!” You whine out dramatically. With how upset you were getting, it wouldn't be surprising if this genuinely was the one determining factor that would either make or break your night.

Hyein couldn't bite back the amused laugh at your seriousness. 

You took your games pretty seriously. Even if it was roblox. There was something familiar and comforting about it all, really. Lighthearted games like this  played a major part in your childhood— which was, of course, abruptly cut short once you became a trainee at age 14. Now that you were an adult with a job as an idol, you could buy your own robux, buy your own gamepasses and items… and most importantly, stomp on little kids in-game. You were here first, after all.

“Unnie, aren't you like, 21 years old? Don't you think you’re a little too old to—“

“And don't you like— what, 12?!” You shoot back without even missing a beat.

A brief, yet suffocating silence passes as the both of you stare at each other, wide eyed. Never in your years of knowing the younger girl have you ever been so.. sassy to her. You were the oldest, after all. It was your job to take care of her.

Almost instantly, you drop your ipad and tackle the younger girl in a hug, crying out, “BABY HYEIN!!! IM SORRY…!!!”

Hyein on the other hand, was not as reciprocal to your attempts at apologizing. Upon being tackled, half of the air in her lungs practically got knocked out of her, and she finds herself tumbling backwards into the blankets below. Instead of accepting your obviously very real and very distressed apology, she began struggling to wriggle out of your grasp as she yelled out, “NO! LET ME GO UNNIE!! LET ME GOOO!!!”

Though the youngest towered over you by over half a foot, your grip on her was borderline deadly. Squeezing your arms tightly around her neck in an attempt at being soothing and sweet (you werent) you scream at yourself, rocking her back and forth. 

“I'm so STUPID im SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY I JUST WANTED YOU TO PLAY WITH ME.”

Incoherent screams and movement was seen from the livestream for about 5 minutes before Hyein tapped your arm, giving in.

“Fine, fine..! I forgive you unnie, just let me go…!”

The moments following Hyein’s acceptance of her fate seemed to actually go by pretty smoothly compared to the chaos that had just ensued a few minutes prior.

Laying in bed together, the two of you played dress to impress while on the live, occasionally interacting with the viewers, but mostly focusing on winning the game. A comfortable silence passes, the only sound being nails against iPad screens.

The pair of you would proudly showcase your creations to the camera, and shared mutual frustration when neither of you would even place despite the immense efforts you put into your outfits.

“I swear to god Hyein, I’m gonna buy both of us VIP and we’re gonna leave these girls in the dust…”

As you prepare to go up for your final round of the night, Hyein suddenly perks up.

“Oh look, unnie! This outfit is actually pretty good…”

“Huh? Oh!! You're right! This is super pretty…”

“…”

“…”

“Two stars?”

“Two stars.”

[the-californicationist]

he helps you study

After agreeing to let him use you whenever he wants, Captain Price fucks you freely while you’re studying, making you read your chapter out loud.

Warning: Free use, prior explicit consent, domination

Two more chapters and you’d finally be done. This statistics class was killing you, and going back to school after having already been in the workforce for so long had made it even harder. There were discussion questions due tomorrow, and you needed to finish them tonight. 

You heard the door to your bedroom creak open, and John’s heavy footsteps padded on the carpet. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you gave him a half-smile,

“Hey, honey. I’m not finished yet, but I’ll be there soon. I know you wanted to watch a movie. I’m sorry I -”

You felt his hands pull your pajama shorts and underwear down to your thighs in one, rough movement.

“Hey! I don’t have time for this. What are you -”

“Read. Your. Book,” his voice was so close to your ear, and the way he bullied you with the weight of his body on your back made your breath catch in your throat. 

You heard the tell-tale jingle of his belt buckle. Then the zipper. Turning your attention back to the book was impossible. He noticed your distracted look and sank a fingertip into your pussy, playing gently at your entrance, convincing it to swell, anticipating his cock. 

“I told you to read, sweetheart. Out loud.”

You swallowed, trying to find your place on the page, 

“Chapter 12. Misuse of statistics can produce subtle but serious errors in description and interpretation…“

You felt his weight crush the mattress. Your captain was situated behind you. He spread your legs open and pulled your hips back, lifting your ass up in the air. The cool air of the room rushed over your exposed flesh. You felt his mouth begin to lick your folds, not for your pleasure but for his. 

“…subtle in the sense that even experienced professionals make such errors…oh, shit, John,” you cried out from the feel of his tongue as it laved through your folds. 

He stopped eating you, and you felt him lean forward. Then, his cockhead was prodding at your hole. He was wetting it with your own fluids, using his dick like a paintbrush before pushing forward into your tight, unprepared walls. 

“Ahh, honey, wait!” You tried to slow him down, looking back at him.

What you saw when you turned around was a warning. You had agreed to free use after he had asked you for it, and he had warned you about his rules. He would take you, whenever, wherever, and however he wanted, and you were not to complain. You had to use the safe word. 

You didn’t use it, squeezing your eyes shut in a pleasurable kind of pain, returning to your book,

“…and serious in the sense that they can lead to devastating decision errors. For instance,” you had to stop again. 

You couldn’t continue. His cock felt too damn good. You were moaning, feeling yourself being stretched out by your captain, experiencing a sudden flood of wetness as your body attempted to accommodate its favorite guest. 

“For instance, what, pretty girl?” He asked cruelly, fitting the tip of his thumb into your asshole as he pounded himself forward, slamming his weight into you, stretching both of your holes.

You were struggling to concentrate, and the words came out in strained, staccatoed bursts,

“For instance, social policy, medical practice, and the reliability of structures like bridges all rely on the proper use of statistics…”

John fucked you faster, shaking the bed, grunting and moaning without shame, gripping onto your hips fiercely and without mercy. You could feel how impossibly hard he was. His thickness overwhelmed you even with lube and plenty of foreplay. Like this, raw and sudden, it was enough to make you drunk on his lustful work. 

“Keep reading, love. This tight little cunt is gonna make me come,” he growled low and tense through his clenched jaw, using his thumb to push deeper into your sensitive ass. 

“Even when statistical techniques…” you whispered, incapable of projecting your voice without it turning into a wanton moan. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Good girl,” he took his thumb away in order to play with your rigid clit. It sent sparks through you, making you clench down around him. He groaned louder.

You tried to read, not wanting to displease your captain, trying to be a good girl, just for him. Whatever he wanted, you were eager to give it. 

“…are correctly applied…”

“God fuckin’ damnit! That’s what I want, love. Come for me. Squeeze this cock for me. That’s it. That’s it, babe,” John leaned forward, his chest pressing down on your back, fucking you like a hound, his other hand grasping the sheets as he tried to hold his full weight off of you. 

He knew exactly how you liked your pussy to be played with. His hands were huge, and his long fingers could apply the most delicious pressure against your swollen folds, making your legs tremble and shake. 

“…the results can be difficult…” 

You couldn’t breathe. You came so hard that you saw stars, keeping yourself from moaning to give him the obedience he was craving. He screamed loud enough for the both of you, pumping harder and harder into you like a steel piston, spilling inside of you in hot, thick ropes. 

“…to interpret.”

You were both panting, ragged and well-used. He pulled himself out of you as slowly as he could, setting your legs back down, and leaving you on the bed, wet and soaking in his come. You heard his belt buckle clinking again, being fastened by its panting owner. He pulled your panties back up, making sure to scoop his escaped come back into the fabric so it would smear against your lips. Then, your shorts, positioned on your waist with care. 

Closing the door to the bedroom, John left you there, holding your textbook, shaking like a leaf. 

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen act with their bookworm s/o

requested by my dearest 🍒 anon!

masterlist

seungcheol

just. buys you everything you want. bookmarks, books, book signing tickets, bookshelves, hell he'll even build you your own library to house your books if that's what you want. he'd buy u anything you want anyway tbh, but he knows how much you love reading so his gift-giving tendencies have shifted towards the side of fully letting you indulge in your hobbies. what can he say? he likes seeing you happy. 

jeonghan

sometimes he'll just sit there and watch you read bc he thinks that you're just really cute. likes to watch all the different facial expressions you make whilst you're reading through different passages, and laughs when you give horrified gasps whenever the characters make terrible choices. gets bored whilst listening to you explain the plot, but Loves when you explain the drama to him like you're teenage girls gossiping over the latest drama

joshua

doesn't know how you have the time or patience to just sit there reading words for hours, but he supports your hobby for sure. sometimes when you're feeling down, he'll take you to the nearest bookstore and buys every single book you so much as hint at having an interest in. buys you handbags that are big enough for books to fit inside so when you two go out with others, you can bring ur emotional support book for when things get too boring 🫡

junhui

goes “ooh what are u reading???” when he catches you holding a new book. you tell him the title and the genre, but as soon as you begin explaining the plot, his eyes are glazing over and he's already clocked out of the conversation. he tries his best to listen, he really does!!! but he supposes it just isn't for him :(( watches the movie adaptations w you if there is one tho and let's you rant about the deviations the directors made from the novel

hoshi

gets insanelyyyy jealous when you find a new fictional character to fixate and fawn over bc like, hello???? your boyfriend is literally right here????? why are you crying over some character that doesn't exist????? but then you argue that you put up with his tiger agenda so he can at least put up with this. doesn't like reading the books, but loves you explaining it aloud to him, hand gestures and all. he thinks it's really cute. 

wonwoo

entertains all your theories about the lore and character backstories of the novels you've been reading lately. you could look like that one guy in the corkboard meme with the red string and he'll just smile indulgently and ask you to tell him more. he's bought you about 70% of all the books you own, and he's not stopping any time soon. he'll stop when you run out of books to read, probably. and by the looks of it, that's not happening any time soon.

woozi

absolutely loves all those fantasy/ dystopian kinds of books the most. at first he was like “:// no thanks i have work” when you first asked him to read some books but now he likes reading them in his free time bc he gets to discuss lore with you in the evenings. likes watching the movie adaptations if they exist, bc then you both get to either applaud the accurate adaptation or complain loudly at the horrible inaccuracies that distort the plot beyond repair

minghao

forces you to take rest breaks every now and then when you're going on a whole reading binge bc it is Not good for your eyesight okay and he worries about you >:((( brews theeee best tea of all time for u and he'll sit down next to you in bed with his own book as you both read throughout the rest of the day. those are the best kinds of days, tbh. nothing gets better than sitting next to the person you love most and doing the thing you love most too

mingyu

he's the type to watch you with soppy eyes as you're reading your book beside him in bed. raises an eyebrow at you fondly when you finally finished, the “how was it?” clear in his eyes, and he just laughs delightedly when you simply explode with all the pent-up emotions as you rant to him about the ending and all the drama and tension that went on in the lead-up to it. loves that you're so passionate about your books. thinks it's super endearing. 

dokyeom

asks for book recs every. single. month. then adds them to his list before promptly forgetting about them and asks for recs again. thinks that everything you read sounds like theee most interesting thing in the world which is why he's always asking for the titles, but he's just always so busy you know?? he did somehow actually read ‘the song of achilles’ bc of your rec, however, and cried over it for 2 days straight

seungkwan

likes to have, like. a mini book club between the two of you where you both read the same book bc then he gets to fully understand your rants and also bc he actually gets kind of invested??? his favourite genres are those modern slice-of-life ones bc then he gets to trash talk with you about all the bad decisions the characters are making in their lives

vernon

you read books, he plays games. the both of you can sit together in complete silence and be utterly content, and the arrangement works for you both. (seungkwan thinks you guys are crazy for just being able to sit there with your respective hobbies and Not Talk.) he bought you a kindle for christmas which turned out to be the best present ever bc now you never go anywhere without it. you thank him for it at least 3 times a day. 

chan

thinks your love of books is one of your biggest charms. he met you on the train where he made the mistake of asking what book you were reading and ended up sitting through a 25 minute explanation and missing his stop, but it was okay bc he liked hearing you talk and ended the day with your number in his phone, so he counted it as a win. definitely a win in his opinion bc now he gets to listen to your book explanations as your boyfriend <3

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @kikohao @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @sea-moon-star @nonononranghaee @isabellah29 @mcu-incorrect @hrts4hanniehae @suraandsugar @pan-de-seungcheol @dokyeomkyeom @melodicrabbit @bananabubble

[suplicyy]

What kind of aesthetic do you think the characters go for? Like what aesthetic would they be attracted to in a partner, purely based on vibes. You can answer this sinply as an ask, or create hcs out of it, completely up to you :-)

Type of "aesthetics" that Haikyuu boys would like in a partner

— Summary: Vibes/aesthetics that the characters would like in a partner, whether due to clothes, personality, tastes, etc.

— Multiple characters!!

— Fluff | Gn!Reader

ᡴꪫ₊˚⊹. 》 He would certainly fall in love instantly with someone very lively, extroverted and playful, someone who shared his same chaotic personality, joining in on his crazy ideas. His ideal type of date would definitely be busier places, such as amusement parks, arcades, festivals, etc.

Someone who wasn't afraid to express themselves in with vibrant colors, even if it makes you the center of attention. The most important thing is that you can wear clothes and accessories that express your personality and lifestyle!

— hinata, nishinoya, inuoka, lev, goshiki, koganegawa, bokuto.

ᡴꪫ₊˚⊹. 》 Someone shyer, cute, almost as if they just came out of a shoujo anime, certainly catches his attention. A person who has a loving personality, and who cares about him, makes his heart skip a beat.

Many of your dates would be something simpler, like a picnic or a day watching movies at home, but these are the moments when you create the sweetest memories. <3

— sugawara, kageyama, kenma, tendou, osamu, aone, oikawa.

ᡴꪫ₊˚⊹. 》 Someone who has a unique style and way of thinking, in a perfect balance between chaos and tranquility. One moment you would perhaps be at a show, and the next you would be walking through the deserted streets at dawn, uncovering the secrets that the dawn hides in the shadows.

A person who was bold, both in personality and in the way of dressing and expressing themselves, but who gave off a strange feeling of comfort.

— iwaizumi, kyoutani, semi, atsumu, suna, kuroo, taketora.

ᡴꪫ₊˚⊹. 》 He are looking for someone who is mature and responsible, and who has a calm personality, but don't forget to remind him every day and in every possible way that you love him. Be it song lyrics, quotes in books, and even drawings, you would always find a new way to make him rosy-cheeked.

Whether in a coffee shop, library or museum, he would always feel calm and comfortable with your presence, because just you being by his side was enough for him.

— asahi, daichi, tsukishima, ushijima, shirabu, kita, akaashi.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

— A/N: I'm sorry if that wasn't exactly what you wanted, this "aesthetics" thing I don't really understand because it's a very vague concept, so I tried my best to write something that could include everyone who is reading!!

Besides, this is my first time writing in this type of style, so I'm sorry again if it's not good💔 And if a character you like isn't here, you're free to imagine which one of these he would fit into!

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Switch!Haechan x Switch!Mark x gn!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly!ilichil. Blowjob. Sub-leaning Mark, Dom-leaning Haechan.

| wc: 2.8k

| aurora's note: not explicitly part of my poly!ilichil book (so no mention of reyna)

Movie night in the house was fairly chill. It wasn’t mandatory, and the film was always chosen at random by whoever pulled the highest number out of a baseball cap, so if someone didn’t care for the movie that the winner decided on, then they could go do whatever else they wanted. For the most part, though, the boys always stayed. Especially ever since their conflicting schedules prevented all eight of them from being in the same room at once. Taeyong was still in the military, Yuta was in Japan to promote his tour, and within the next few weeks Mark and Haechan would embark on the European leg of their tour while Jaehyun would enlist. A house filled with you and eight men was slowly losing its numbers. Soon it would just be you and three others… That was a shitty feeling… So the boys tried to make their time together count, even if it was only six out of eight of them in the house.

When you came home from work, the boys started pulling numbers out of a hat while you changed into pajamas. By the time you were changed and fit to relax for the night, Haechan was in the kitchen eating a bowl of ice cream, Mark disappeared, Jaehyun and Johnny were looking on an iPad at what new manga sets Johnny should buy, and Doyoung and Jungwoo were making themselves comfortable on the couch in their usual spots.

“Who won?” you asked, plopping down on the empty couch perpendicular to the wall with the big TV.

“You did,” Jungwoo replied. He tossed the TV remote at you, hardly giving you the chance to realize what he said and catch the remote before it could hit you in the nose.

“Where’s Mark?”

Johnny turned off his iPad. “Doing skin care upstairs. He said we can start watching without him… I think Chenle’s going to try to convince him to play some video games, too, so I wouldn’t count on him sticking around.” He reclined in the love seat next to Doyoung and Jungwoo’s couch while Jaehyun sprawled out in the empty space in the middle of the room, since they had to evacuate the coffee table in order to make room for everyone. “He’s exhausted and stressed from working on the last few songs for his album.”

“And Hyuck?”

“He’ll join us when he’s done eating.”

“He’s tired from rehearsals,” Jaehyun said quietly.

You started scrolling through Netflix for a movie you wanted to watch. “They’re both drained. I can’t believe the company’s already talking about another Dream tour next year.”

“Yeah, well, it was supposed to be us, but…” Doyoung stared at the back of Jaehyun’s bleached blonde head. “Anyhow.” He sighed.

Jungwoo shifted to get comfortable, cuddling up against Doyoung who laid back against the armrest of the couch so that Jungwoo could lay against his chest. “Can we watch an anime?”

“It’s not your night to pick,” Johnny warned.

“You were thinking the same thing!”

“It’s not my night to pick either.”

To appease the boys, however, you went to another streaming service to find The Boy and the Heron, a film which more than half of the room hadn’t seen yet, and it was anime to make them happy. The four content smiles in the room told you everything you needed to know. And as the movie, they all settled happily, their focus solely on the film, which left you smiling too as you got comfortable under a blanket.

Mark returned later like he promised. About fifteen minutes into the film, he made an appearance in his pajamas, his hair wet from showering, his face bare with all of his makeup and daytime skin care washed away in order to cover his face with his nighttime routine. You looked up at him as he entered the living room, hesitating for a moment while he considered his options for where to sit or lay down. There was some room next to Johnny on the love seat if he scooted over, Jungwoo and Doyoung took up the entire couch facing the TV head on, there was room next to you if you sat up, and if Jaehyun didn’t lay down in the very middle of the room there was space for Mark to lay down too. However, no one budged except for you. Mark sat on the floor with his back pressed against the couch you were on so that he was between your legs— Even though he could’ve sat on the couch with you if he wanted. It seemed he was more comfortable down there. Tiredly, Mark’s head fell against the inside of your left calf while both of you silently watched the movie, his hands gently massaging your ankles until you got the hint that he wanted to be played with too, so you started combing your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp, massaging sore spots to help with any stress or headaches he had. Mark immediately melted.

“When do you need to call Chenle?” you whispered down to him, scratching behind his ear like he were a dog or a cat.

He shook his head slightly. “I told him I’m busy with you guys.”

Though he couldn’t see you, you were smiling behind him,scratching your fingers through his hair from his forehead down to his neck. He shivered then melted further into you. He was cute, like a pet, when he was tired and wanted to just fall asleep and forget about all of his worries.

But then in came the menace known as Haechan who was done with his ice cream and had cleaned his dishes before entering to sit and watch the second half of the film with you guys. Rather than taking a moment to decide where he was going to plop down, Haechan made his way directly over to you and Mark before he dropped to the ground and put his head on Mark’s lap and his feet on Jaehyun’s thighs— Both boys looked at Haechan with a questioning look before surrendering since there was no use in fighting against Haechan.

“Oh, fuck, Mark—” Haechan squirmed on the ground then flipped over and pushed himself up to look at the man sitting between your legs.

Mark hid his face against your leg. “Sorry.”

“What is it?” Jungwoo pried with his interest piqued, just like the rest of the group.

“He’s got a hard-on just from having his hair played with!”

You hesitated, to which Mark whined and nuzzled his face into you some more— Both to hide his embarrassment but also because he so desperately wanted you to keep going. But once he knew that everyone was looking at him instead of the movie, Mark started brushing Haechan off so that he could stand, while he muttered something about taking care of it and coming back soon. Both you and Haechan worked together to sit Mark back down after you silently shared a thought that it could be handled there. Afterall, you were responsible for getting him worked up… and Haechan was the one impacted by the distraction the most because his pillow was a bit hard.

Mark looked around panicked. “I’m sorry—”

You comforted him by running your hands through his hair again, then you leaned in to kiss his cheek lovingly, which put his guard down enough for Haechan to lay on his stomach between Mark’s legs. Mark was a bit distracted by your touches and kisses to care about the way Haechan was pulling Mark’s pajamas down just enough so that his erection sprung out.

Some of the boys sighed and shifted so that their focus was turned more on the TV rather than what was transpiring on the couch to their left. You, however, was focused on keeping Mark distracted some more. Haechan was being wicked, having his way by slowly rolling the tip of his thumb over Mark’s tip while he stared at you with innocent doe-eyes that nearly made you pull both him and Mark upstairs so that you could fuck them until they were too tired to keep their eyes open any longer. And Haechan got cocky once he saw that look in your eyes. He grinned while he began jerking Mark off at a slow pace, just to test the waters, get him worked up some more before the next part went underway.

His gaze glued to yours, and Mark’s eyes rolling to the back of his head, Haechan wrapped his lips around Mark’s tip.

“Shit, Hyuck—” Mark squirmed between your legs. “Your mouth’s fucking freezing.” Must’ve been from the ice cream.

But that didn’t deter Haechan. With his eyes closed, he lowered his mouth down all the way until Mark’s cock hit the back of his throat, causing Mark to whimper and roll his hips until Haechan put a hand on Mark’s hip to force him to stay still. As Hyuck started slowly bobbing his head, Mark let go. His moans and pleas for more were disrupting the movie, yet the others tried their best to stay focused, so you decided to help them out by giving Mark two of your fingers for him to suck on. He did so eagerly. The second he latched onto your fingers, his moans were muffled around them instead of covering up the sound of the movie, and as his tongue swirled and stuck between your fingers, you saw him still trying to fight against Haechan.

“Go slower,” Jaehyun instructed quietly without even looking over at them. “You want it to feel good, don’t rush it.”

Haechan rolled his eyes, as if to say to you, the only person who could see it, that he knew what he was doing, he didn’t need directions. However, Johnny caught it.

“Don’t roll your eyes at us.”

Haechan groaned sexually while slowing his movements and grinding his hips against the carpet. His hands moved from holding Mark’s base and hip to Mark’s muscular thighs so that he had something to ground himself on while he tried to maintain a slow and tortuous pace that had Mark panting against your fingers while mumbling more pleas for Haechan to go fast again, but he didn’t listen. Unfortunate side effects of both of them being switches. On the off chance the two of them wanted to play together and Haechan was the one in the Dominant mood, there was nothing Mark could say or do to have the younger man listen listen to him. Go faster only ever encouraged Haechan to continue going slow. Touch my balls made Haechan avoid them. Let me cum urged Haechan to pull away completely.

And that was exactly what happened.

When Mark popped your fingers out of his mouth suddenly to moan out, “Please let me cum,” Haechan pulled his mouth away. Johnny smirked from his comfortable spot on the opposite side of the living room. Haechan, though seemingly inclined to torture Mark further, didn’t have much energy in him to edge Mark all night, so he went back to licking around Mark’s tip slowly, cleaning up the mess of pre-cum mixed with saliva.

“Please,” Mark croaked, tilting his head up to look at you. The boys weren’t going to save him because they were too invested in the film, but you could take pity on him— Especially in the state he was in. He was so tired… so overwhelmed with the Dream tour, his solo album, the upcoming 127 concert in January, and all the projects on his plate the following year. “Please…” That got you.

Though you hardly had any sway over Haechan’s Dominant side— At least not like Johnny, Yuta, and Jaehyun did— you reached over Mark’s shoulder to put your free hand on the back of Haechan’s head, pushing him down, watching as he took every inch of Mark into his mouth again before you told him quietly to ignore Jaehyun’s instructions. All he needed to do was make Mark feel good, then both of them could rest. That was what they wanted, right? To relax, enjoy everyone's company, and not worry about a thing? You would do that for him if he was a good boy and made Mark cum.

Haechan took the lead again, rapidly getting Mark off, even bringing one of his hands up to jerk off Mark’s base and gently massage his balls. Mark’s hands found your ankles which he grabbed onto for dear life. He was so happy. He was back to moaning with relief and excitement, his orgasm building quickly, his hips bucking around again since there was no more fight from Haechan to stop him.

“Please, please, please, can I cum?” he begged desperately, his nails digging into your skin.

Your touch drifted from Haecha’s head to Mark’s chin so that you could hold him steady while pressing him against the couch and tilting his head up again so that you could see his face when you whispered those magic words, “You can cum.”

Mark’s face twisted with pleasure as he started cumming down Haechan’s throat. Jungwoo’s attention was caught slightly, his own hips rolling around in the hopes for Doyoung to start giving him some kind of relief, but he was ignored for the sake of the climax of the movie that had the rest of the boys involved.

Haechan’s own moans vibrated against Mark. He whined and jolted, the last of his high passing and turning into a blissful touch of overstimulation that stole Mark’s breath. Haechan was grinning. Mouth full of cock, cum leaking out, his cheeks red and eyes glazed over with lust. Haechan looked beautiful. Perfect, even.

“Okay, okay, don’t be mean,” you said, releasing Mark’s chin and reaching to tap Haechan’s cheek.

On his way up, Haechan licked up all of the cum that escaped his mouth, cleaning up every bit of the mess he made since Mark had already showered, and both of you could see how spent he was, his entire body and mind already giving into his exhaustion.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up and head to bed early?”

Mark slumped his back against the couch and rested his cheek on your knee. “Give me a bit.”

Haechan put Mark’s pants on properly then rolled over to lay down his head on Mark’s lap as he had intentionally meant to. Now he was more comfortable.

By the end of the movie, Mark and Haechan were asleep at your feet, the two of them quietly snoring, Mark’s hands still glued to your ankles so that you couldn’t escape without waking him. Jaehyun was mindlessly massaging Haechan’s feet that were on his stomach when he made a comment about how maybe they should use Haechan to wear the two of them out more often— Specifically whenever Haechan would throw a hissy fit about being sent to bed early after working overtime at the office for a couple of days in a row. Johnny laughed and turned off the TV. Jungwoo tiredly sat up and began dragging a tired Doyoung upstairs with him, but it seemed that rather than cuddling and sleeping, Jungwoo had half a mind of getting rid of his erection too with Doyoung’s help upstairs.

“What do I do about this?” You gestured to how Mark had you trapped.

Johnny stood from the love seat. “Sure you can’t sleep like that?” he joked. When you rolled your eyes, he and Jaehyun came to your rescue. Slowly, Johnny woke up Mark while Jaehyun woke up Haechan. Both of them whined complaints when they opened their eyes. “Come on, you’ll be more comfortable upstairs.” Jaehyun lifted Hyuck to his feet first before corralling him upstairs, then Johnny leaned over to pull Mark up to his feet, messing with his hair with a giggle. “Go on.”

Tiredly, Mark trudged up the stairs to his room.

“Thanks,” you said when Johnny helped you to your feet.

“Thanks for compromising on a movie tonight.”

“Well, I didn’t pay attention for most of it anyhow.”

Johnny chuckled, and with his hand in yours, he began leading you upstairs. “At least you had fun, right?” When you nodded, he smiled. “You should sleep in their bed tonight, since they’re leaving for tour soon.”

Mark wobbled into Haechan’s bedroom. You heard some annoyed whispering back and forth, followed by the thump of a body collapsing on a mattress. Seemed they were arguing about whether or not Mark had permission to sleep in there. It also seemed it didn’t matter because he passed out.

“Night, Johnny.”

“Night, love.”

As he dove into his room, you walked into Haechan’s to find both him and Mark sprawled out completely, limbs tangled together, drool already pooling out of Mark’s mouth. They were such idiots. But they were your idiots. So you climbed into bed with them, trying your best to make room for yourself while they groaned about not wanting to be woken up again.

“Fuck off,” you groaned as Haechan accidentally elbowed your ribs.

“You first.”

“Both of you shut up,” Mark mumbled into his pillow.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Haechan teased, still half asleep.

You grinned to yourself. You were going to miss them a lot while they’d be gone on tour again…

[girlkisser13]

dating wally west would include

• he ADORES making you laugh. he just loves hearing the sound of your laughter.

• whenever he makes a joke he always looks at you to see your reaction.

• you always make sure that you are stocked up on food. but sometimes, you hide your favorite foods so that he doesn’t eat them.

• wally loves to take you on thrilling dates where he runs you to different cities or countries in a matter of seconds. a quick lunch in paris or a sunset view from the top of the himalayas becomes a regular thing.

• he will literally travel anywhere and get you something to make you feel happy.

• his boundless energy means he’s always up for adventures and activities. he keeps you on your toes, whether it’s impromptu dance parties or late-night ice cream runs.

• as someone with a high metabolism, wally is a big foodie. he loves trying out new restaurants, food trucks, and cuisines with you. he’s always hungry, so snack dates are a must.

• despite his playful nature, wally is fiercely protective of you. he’s always quick to jump into action if you’re in any danger, using his speed to ensure you’re safe.

• he loves to tease and joke around with you. his sense of humor keeps things light and fun, and he knows how to make you laugh, even on your worst days.

• despite his laid-back demeanor, wally is quite the romantic. he often surprises you with flowers, handwritten notes, and sweet gestures that show how much he cares.

• wally is deeply emotional (surprisingly) and cares deeply about the people he loves. he’s not afraid to show vulnerability with you, sharing his fears and hopes.

• this man is CLINGY. he literally tries to climb and cling to you like a monkey, even if you are smaller than him (not that you’re complaining though).

• if you’re shorter than him, he places all of your things on higher shelves just so that you have to ask him for help, receiving lots of forehead kisses and giving him lots of cheek kisses mainly on your tiptoes.

• if you’re taller than him, him getting pouty if you put his things higher up, him having more reasons to be clingy and "surprising" you by jumping on your back for piggybacks.

• wally enjoys keeping fit and loves to include you in his training sessions. he’ll tailor workouts to your level, and you two often end up having fun races or friendly competitions.

• wally's a book nerd. he speed reads every single book he reads. he loves sharing his favorite books with you and will read them out loud at super-speed, making sure you both can enjoy stories together quickly.

• he has a knack for fixing things at lightning speed. he loves doing diy projects around the house with you, whether it’s building new furniture, fixing broken items, or redecorating.

• he’s a HUGE fan of movie marathons. given his super-speed, he can watch an entire season of a show in a few hours, but he’s more than happy to slow down and binge-watch your favorite series or movie franchise with you.

• you guys constantly engage in competitions, whether it’s video games, sports, or even who can eat the most. he loves the friendly rivalry and always lets you win sometimes.

• wally loves holidays and goes all out for celebrations. he’ll decorate, cook, and plan activities to make each holiday special, whether it’s halloween, christmas, or even lesser known holidays.

• his love for science often translates into fun experiments at home. he enjoys sharing his knowledge with you and conducting safe, fun experiments that sometimes lead to hilarious or fascinating results.

• wally’s ability to travel anywhere in seconds means you two create incredible memories from all around the world. You’ll have countless stories and souvenirs from the various places you’ve visited together.

• he loves to sing along to music. he often ropes you into singing duets with him. it doesn’t matter if you’re a great singer or not; the fun and joy of singing together is what counts.

• despite his love for food, wally isn’t the best cook. you two often have hilarious cooking sessions where you try to follow recipes, sometimes with comically disastrous results, but always with lots of laughter.

• he LOVES surprising you with spontaneous dates. one moment you’re at home, and the next, you’re at a concert, a carnival, or a beautiful scenic spot. his creativity keeps your relationship exciting and unpredictable.

• need to get somewhere in a hurry? wally’s got you covered. whether you’re running late for work or need a quick ride to a friend’s place, wally is always ready to zoom you to your destination.

• he’s your own personal chauffeur. <33

[horuslupercal]

ranking the primarchs as boyfriends

Lion: honestly I can't see him dating cause he doesn't like women and Caliban homophobia but let's pretend. he is better than you. you both know this. makes no particular effort to pay attention to you. bad at social cues. will take care of you, kind of. will tell his astartes to guard you in a dangerous situation at least. uncommunicative. 2/10 loveless political marriage

Fulgrim: canonically emotionally tapped out. okay boyfriend in public, does not really interact much in private. RSD.Primarch. decent amount of gifts. might actually catch feelings for you and then pull away even more. 1/10 are you really dating

Perturabo: also RSD.Primarch. it's difficult to make him happy and very easy to upset him. you will end up on life support when he kills you in a fit of rage and then panics about it. if you tell him you like his artsy endeavours he WILL shower you in them so there's that. you cannot fix him. 3/10 more unstable ground than eggshells

Khan: knows what he's about (sexual). writes very pretty letters but this does not quite make up for him being gone all the time. more interested in his friends. emotionally mature primarch. pretty good at interacting with mortals like he respects them. not a guy who's good at (or likes) commitment/being "tied down". 5/10 you should just be fwbs

Leman: well groomed. likes to feed you good food. more interested in his friends than you. braggart. surprisingly good at remembering important things and dates. 6/10 a thoughtful frat boy

Dorn: primarch most likely to indulge in a "shut up" ring. has emotions about you and literally tortures himself about it. claims he's controlled or whatever but he is an emotional time bomb. won't engage in relationship conversations. knows he's better than you. 3/10 dime a dozen in a philosophy class

Konrad: well fuck if he doesn't love you. believes in thought crime and possesses some moral OCD qualities. will trail bits of guts home. might accidentally kill you during a vision. he really does love you. swinging between obsession and apathy very quickly. 2/10 you knew what you were getting into

Sanguinius: afraid of you? (or of hurting you). half the time he has no energy for anything he gets off work (campaign) and lays down on the couch and doesn't answer his texts. impulsive. kind of incapable of turning "off". sad. tries to be sweet. 4/10 is he really interested in you?

Ferrus: throws tantrums. knows he's better than you and his legion knows it too. jokes about your weakness with a little too much regularity for it to feel like a joke. won't fix this if you express being upset about it. 1/10 /fit/ (4chan) regular

Angron: will kill you in his sleep. will cry about it. doesn't really think of himself as a complete person anymore and makes it the problem of everyone around him. doesn't want to date you and ruin you. won't even tell you his newest scheme for glorious combat based suicide. 1/10 he's not in a good place

Roboute: arrogant. busy. "I was a TA for a logic class-". says he's willing to communicate but leaves halfway through because something happened and doesn't pick it back up. will bring you to beautiful cliffside locales and spin you like a movie. 5/10 you are a side project

Mortarion: unwashed. kissing him will poison you. doesn't come to bed on time. appreciates you from a distance but does not pay much attention to you. would be very upset if something happened to you. his legion definitely thinks you're stupid. 1/10 he doesn't you he needs SSRIs

Magnus: knows better than you. horror movie protag's boyfriend who says it's just a joke as he reads the ancient texts from the creepy book. flaunts you around, he's very proud of you. either constantly asking what you want or completely dead to the world distracted in some project. 5/10 he will get you killed

Horus: lovebombing: the primarch. knows what he's about (sexual). more than a little self absorbed. occasionally loses his temper and then is very good about explaining it away until you feel bad. you are spoiled to hell. 4/10 emotionally abusive boyfriend with a magic aura

Lorgar: you are his world. his light. his life. he knows best and you should just do what he says. you will no longer be human but something higher (socially) (literally). gets so invested he lets other things fall to the wayside and it's kind of disastrous. 5/10 at least you're god

Vulkan: trying his best to actually respect you. occasionally fails. means to spend time with you and then gets wrapped up in duties and projects. cuddlemaster. cute relationship gestures. 7/10 your best option

Corvus: won't communicate. ghosts away when things get awkward. really random, overly intense opinions and he will slay you on those hills. busy. hypocrite. 1/10 teenager

Alpharius Omegon: either they're both in on this so they can use you or only one of them is in on this and the other one is plotting your death because this wasn't the plan. 1/10 actively dangerous

[storiesofsvu]

Love You Always

Rafael Barba x reader warnings: language maybe? it's pure fluff y'all. This was a request that I took a little bit of a spin on but the end result is the same and the prompt still fits and works lol Quick reminder: as Barba has over 50 ppl on his taglist and that is tumblr's max, if you do not interact with this/other barba post you will be removed for someone who is on the wait list who actually does want to read and interact.

When you’d made the move from a small town in Pennsylvania out to New York you really had no idea what was in store for you. Getting the opportunity to live in the city was a huge enough thrill on its own, delicious food, incredible night life, easy enough to get around and a plethora of places to meet people. Work was consistent, busy enough to keep you stimulated and making money but never overwhelming, you always had weekends off and were reminded you never had to take work home unless you really wanted to.

The level of freedom you felt was an incredibly good thing, especially considering your boyfriend seemed to never stop working. You were free to swing by on your lunch, making sure he ate something other than chocolate covered espresso beans and would happily be the one to drag him out of the office at the end of a long day. Though you had no complaints about the matter, you loved him no matter what and knew that what he did was important, not to mention incredibly admirable.

The two of you had moved in together a couple of years ago, a nice two bedroom apartment smack in the middle of your commutes. Rafael had turned the second bedroom into a home office but hadn’t completely taken it over, leaving half of it for you to outfit however you’d like. He never wanted it to just be his space, wanted to make sure you always felt welcomed and wanted even if the most you normally did was curl up with a book in the arm chair beside his desk. He utterly adored having you around, the quality time beside another human was more than enough for both of you, you were able to communicate without words by now. There were moments where Rafael wouldn’t even realize he’d been letting his work stress him out until your gentle hands were on his shoulders, massaging out the knots. There were other moments where you were so sucked into your novel you had no idea how much time had gone by until he was pressing a kiss to the top of your head, mentioning you’d both missed dinner.

There had been talks of the future of course, some of them happening before you bought the apartment, making sure you were making the right investment, but there had never really been a talk about marriage. You’d talked about where in the city you wanted to live, decided on kids or no kids, if you wanted to stay in the same career path, what you’d like to do after retiring and while you knew you were in each other’s stories, a ring never came up. You loved your romantic movies and Rafael knew that, often watching them with you, a small smile on his face as you tried to hide your happy tears or blamed your sniffling on allergies. He knew you were a hopeless romantic and did his best on a regular basis to show you how much he loved you, flowers, treats, fancy date nights and the like.

The first time marriage truly came up was when you were out for dinner and witnessed a very public proposal that you immediately turned your nose up at. Rafael raised a brow and you let out a small laugh, explaining that not only were they incredibly tacky, nearly forcing the person answering to say yes, but this one in particular was going to end in a fight once they were home. Never ask a question like that if you don’t know the definite answer. On the other end of the spectrum, the two of you had a fantastic date night and you were certain it ended better than the not so happy couple.

The second time it technically came up Rafael was coming home entirely too late and while you didn’t have particular plans, you had happened to fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. He felt a pang of guilt wash through him when he found you, half full glass of wine on the coffee table with an empty one meant for him. When he woke you up to get you to bed he apologized, promising that it wouldn’t happen again. You let out a soft giggle, still half asleep and mentioned something about it not being a problem, you knew you were his side chick, he was married to his job after all, it was his wife and you were okay with that.

The third time it came up when your cousin’s wedding invitation came in the mail and you asked if he wanted to come with you. He laughed, saying of course he did and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, he was your plus one forever after all. You returned the laugh, letting him know it was back in Pennsylvania, it would be a minimum of a three day trip out there, you’d have to leave midday Friday and likely return late on Sunday, if not Monday. He simply shrugged, saying he’d make absolutely sure that his schedule was cleared, this was something that was important to you and he didn’t want to miss any of those.

Rafael had been expecting the usual wedding festivities, friends new and old reuniting between a couple of smaller hotels or bars around the town. Some whom had kept in touch, some who hadn’t spoken since graduation. There was plenty of catching up, questions asked and answered about careers, families, kids. He was prepared for all of that, prepared to whisk you away the second anyone started nagging a little too hard about getting married or starting a family of your own. Instead he was met with you laughing, winding your arm in his and saying that the two of you were your own family.

What he definitely wasn’t expecting was to be hit with a brick wall of emotions when the actual wedding started. Everything was so incredibly beautiful, the church lit up perfectly, stunning bridesmaids dresses that correlated with the groomsmen pocket squares, ties and socks. The flower arrangements were gorgeous, the music matched the vibe immaculately, every single detail you could imagine was well thought through and executed amazingly. His hand in yours as the ceremony started, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as the bride stepped into the room and he knew you would be teary eyed in a matter of seconds.

He couldn’t help but watch you throughout the ceremony, a small smile on his face, one that you caught and smiled back to every time you looked over at him. You loved love, and you loved him and that made him feel so incredibly warm inside, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your eyes glistened in the sunlight, a glimmering of happy tears in them as the couple began their vows and it became very obvious you weren’t the only hopeless romantic in the room. They told stories of their childhood, how they’d been best friends at such a young age, how through time they had went their different ways but always seemed to find their way back to each other. How they’d gone to different colleges, lived on opposite sides of the country and even when they didn’t stay in touch, life had a way to keep their invisible string intact. How she’d been smitten from the moment they reconnected, how he surprised her on their first anniversary with a plot of land where she’d always dreamed of living, and how he was going to build their dream home. How much they meant to each other, that they wanted to spend the rest of their days and then some together, how much they believed in destiny and how thankful they were that they were brought back together and realized what true love was because it was so often sitting right in front of your nose.

Rafael didn’t think he was a sap, but the misting in his eyes would prove otherwise.

The way your hand was softly squeezing at his thigh whenever something particularly romantic or emotional certainly wasn’t helping either. And the look of complete love, awe, hope and longing reflecting from your eyes was enough to drive him wild. He found his heart beating faster in his chest, butterflies racing in his stomach, he wanted to be the one on the receiving end of that kind of a look. He was utterly lost in his romantic thoughts until the couple kissed, the church erupting in applause and you were tugging him to stand, cheering to celebrate their new union.

He managed to keep his cool throughout dinner, though he got a little misty eyed when the speeches started. Out of pure instinct you were cuddled into his side, the more intimate and loving the stories and speeches got, the closer the two of you got to each other. There was nothing either of you wanted than to be with each other and this celebration of love was solidifying it.

The two of you were up on the dance floor, encouraging your nieces and nephews to burn off all the sugar from the cake dancing around as wildly as they could before having to leave. A slow song started and you thought for a moment you were leaving the dance floor until Rafael grabbed your hand, a sparkle in his eye as he twirled you under his arm and then his other hand slid around your waist, leading you in a slow rhythm around the dance floor. A blooming of happiness started in your chest as your cheek rested next to his, small smile on both of your cheeks as you danced.

“You’ve been quiet,” you murmured, “not having any fun?”

“Quite the opposite.” He chuckled, his lips brushing your cheek.

“Then what’s going on in that brain of yours, hmm?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” You asked, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“You.” He replied, his hand rubbing at the small of your back, “love. This.” You felt his hand come off your back, gesturing to the room, “How beautiful it is. How beautiful you are. How happy I am with you, and that I want that kind of happiness forever. That I want this. With you.”

“Careful Rafael, this is starting to sound like a proposal.” You teased from your spot on his shoulder, feeling his chest rumble as he chuckled.

“Never. That would be incredibly inappropriate, I’m not one to steal someone’s moment.”

“Sure.” You laughed and he playfully rolled your eyes as you lifted your head up. The hand he had holding yours moved to cup your face as you stepped even closer together. His eyes gazed into yours with nothing but absolute adoration.

“But believe me when I say this, I’m going to marry you one day and one day soon.” His thumb brushed over your cheek and you felt a dopey smile take over your lips, “our own special day where I get to tell everyone just how much I love you, how I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, how you deserve the entire world and I got so incredibly lucky because you chose me.”

“And I would a million times over.” Leaning in you pressed your lips to his, a small sigh relaxing both of you into the kiss as you continued to sway. Your cheek came to rest against his once more, his hand briefly cupping the back of your head before moving back to your waist. “Because I love you Rafael, more than anyone in the world. I’m lucky to have you to love.”

“I love you too.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, continuing to guide you around the dance floor until the song came to an end. For the third time today he found a misting of happy tears in his eyes, the same ones reflecting in yours except this time it was because of your own love, your own little secret that no one else in the room knew quite yet. That not only did you have a future together but he was going to be able to call you his wife, and that meant the entire world to him.

____________

@fandom-princess-forevermore @bisexualcrowley @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @averyhotchner @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @prurientpuddlejumper @letsdisneythings @neely1177 @mrsrafaelbarba @lv7867 @bisexual-dreamer02 @skittle479 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @altsvu @svulife-rl @caracalwithchips @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @darkheart-brightsmile @australiancarisi @tinyboxxtink @ex-uallyactive @lawandorderuswnt @lustvolle-liebe @sia2raw @narvaldetierra @dxtery @lannister-slings-and-arrows @poisonedcrowns @anlin2058 @xoxabs88xox @momlifebehard @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @godard-muse @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @dextur @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @valentinesfrog @silversprings-mp3 @wittygutsy @gamma-rae-bursts @int4n @just-moondust @deanwinchestersgirl87 @bubbleswrld

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

this love is ours | lewis hamilton

🍵 synopsis: It's just another Thursday, and you've invited your boyfriend over for dinner. It's the early stages of your relationship and you're both still trying to understand how to make it work. warnings: domestic life with lewis, mention of smut but nothing too graffic just a lot of fluff, really. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 1.5k words)

part 1

The doorbell rings, and you’re there before it can sound a second time. You’d been trying – unsuccessfully – to keep the anxiety at bay, telling yourself you weren’t just sitting here, practically waiting like a dog by the door.

Something about that image stings. Waiting around for someone else, no life of your own.

You don’t want whatever this is between you two to feel like that.

But here you are, sighing as you open the door, realizing you’d been holding your breath. Lewis stands there with that easy grin of his, the one that always lights up when he sees you. He steps inside with the same comfortable ease he has every time, like he belongs here.

It’s a little absurd, really – seeing him in your cramped one-bedroom apartment. Everything about him feels too big, like he could barely fit in the space, yet somehow he does. He makes himself at home without a second thought, even looking thrilled whenever you ask him to come by.

Your apartment is nothing special, but it’s yours. The walls are covered in mismatched frames with art prints and photos, books stacked in piles wherever there’s space, some spilling over onto the floor. Plants cling to life on the windowsill, a few drooping leaves reminding you you’ve probably forgotten to water them for a while.

And now he is here.

Watching him in your home, sprawled out on your too-small couch or grabbing a drink from your mismatched kitchenware, you feel a strange mix of affection and unease. Intimacy has always been tricky for you and bringing someone in feels like laying out every part of yourself for inspection. You still can’t believe he wants to be here, tangled up in your mess of books and half-dead plants – not just tolerating it, but actually enjoying it.

And you’re still not sure if it’s comforting or unsettling to let him see your life laid out this way, all the things that make you... you.

After a couple of dates, you tried to explain. “Intimacy is a bit complicated for me,” you said, half-expecting him to tense up or brush it off. But he didn’t flinch. He just nodded, as if you’d mentioned something as mundane as your favorite tea.

“Another thing we have in common, I guess,” he’d said with a little laugh, like you were still comparing movie preferences.

part 2

In your kitchen, you’re chopping vegetables while he hovers close, his hand on your waist, tracing absentminded circles with his thumb. He’s always been touchy like this, finding ways to keep you close whenever you’re together, as if he can’t help himself.

“I wish you could come this weekend,” he says, leaning over to sneak a slice of carrot.

You give a small shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe you should just do like the rest of the paddock and date a jobless woman,” you tease, keeping your tone light, but it lands with a subtle weight you can both feel.

It’s playful, sure, but there’s an edge. There’s this guilt whenever one of you can’t be there for the other. No one’s blaming anyone, not really. You’re both still trying to make this work, but the distance, the missed moments – they’re always there, lingering in the back of your minds, just out of sight, and sometimes they sting.

The kettle starts to boil, and the sharp whistle slices through the silence, cutting off the tension.

He chuckles, turning to you with a smile. “Or maybe I’ll just get them to move the race here, to your kitchen,” he says. “I think I’d be faster with you handing out snacks.”

He bumps his shoulder against yours, and the mood lifts, just like that.

part 3

You’re both on the sofa, legs tangled together, sipping tea in comfortable silence. Your legs rest over his lap, feeling heavy but safe.

“I’m so tired. I can’t even –”

“Can’t even what?” he prompts gently, looking at you with those warm eyes.

“Can’t even finish a sentence,” you admit, laughing softly. “I was going to say it’s nice to be here with you, but…”

He chuckles, brushing his thumb across your ankle. “But?”

“But, you know, I just keep trailing off, and it’s –”

“It's cute,” he interrupts, his smile widening. “You know you don’t have to talk, right?”

“I do,” you reply, stifling a yawn. “But it’s just�� I want to say something, but my brain isn’t… cooperating. It’s like, I have all these thoughts, but they just… float away.”

“Maybe your brain just wants to go to bed,” he suggests, his tone teasing.

“Maybe,” you murmur, your eyelids growing heavier. “But… I’m too tired for that. For, um, for sex and stuff.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I know. I’m tired too, baby. Let’s just sleep tonight, okay?”

part 4

He’s got you caged in his arms, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. He starts leaving soft kisses along the side of your face, then your neck, then just behind your ear. Each kiss is a gentle peck, and you can feel yourself practically melting, a soft sigh escaping your lips. His kisses make your whole body tingle, and you just want to be closer, to press into him until there’s no space left between you.

You shift, adjusting, trying to find that perfect spot – but nothing feels like enough. No matter how tightly you hold him, it still doesn’t feel close enough. He kisses you again, even softer, his hand stroking your hair, sending little shivers down your spine.

And then he starts to laugh, a quiet chuckle at first that grows, his whole body shaking. He laughs harder as you keep squirming, and soon he’s laughing so hard it’s impossible to ignore. You pull back, frowning, pushing him away with a huff.

“You’re so mean!” you exclaim, trying to sound serious, but he’s made it impossible not to pout. You hate feeling this childish around him, but he’s just… infuriating.

“What happened to just sleeping?” you add, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks as he keeps grinning.

He shrugs, pulling you back in and brushing a final kiss across your forehead. “You’re too cute when you’re frustrated,” he murmurs, his voice soft against your hair. “Now go back to sleep.”

“I don’t think I can,” you admit, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I should’ve known better than to get in bed with you.”

He chuckles, his arms tightening around you. “Maybe you should’ve,” he says, teasing, but he pulls you in even closer, resting his chin on the top of your head.

Wrapped in his shirt, which hangs off you in oversized, lopsided folds, you laugh as you fumble to pull it off, and he starts helping, chuckling with you as you get tangled up in the sleeves.

He pauses for a moment, looking at you, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “You know,” he whispers, a small smile playing on his lips, “you’re beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the way your cheeks flush. “I’m serious,” he insists, his tone warm, his eyes soft.

You give in with a sigh, mumbling, “I’m sorry about earlier… I didn’t mean to snap. I just – had a pretty shitty day at the office.”

He nods, his hand moving down to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly. “I know,” he murmurs. “We’re both tired, aren’t we?” He leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over yours with a tenderness that makes your heart skip.

He smiles as he finally frees you from the shirt, tossing it aside and gently pressing you back onto the bed. “My girl is so pretty…” he teases, his voice warm and playful as he kisses you again, holding you close.

His hands move slowly along your sides, fingertips tracing gentle patterns on your skin. Everything is quiet now, just the two of you wrapped up in each other, your breaths syncing. 

You let your hands drift along his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. He dips down, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone, your breasts, his breath warm and steady, calming you.

Even though you’re both on the edge of sleep, barely keeping your eyes open, your bodies seem to know exactly what to do. His weight presses down on you, grounding you. His scent is warm and intoxicating, lulling you deeper into the moment.

Neither of you rushes – there’s no urgency. You guide him to a rhythm that feels effortless, as if you’ve always known how to move together like this.

It’s gentle and unhurried, every movement blending into the next as you lose yourselves in the softness of each other. All you know in this moment is his warmth, his weight, and the sound of your breaths mixing in the quiet of the room. 

And even in this half-dreamlike state, somehow, you both find the release you need, a quiet, shared bliss that lingers as he presses his forehead to yours, breathing in time with you.

You’re both too tired for anything more, and that’s okay. The closeness, the way his hand settles on the small of your back, pulling you in tighter, says enough. You brush your fingers through his hair, letting your eyes drift shut as he trails one last kiss along your shoulder.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. His arms hold you close, and you let out a sigh, feeling yourself finally relax as you hold him back, allowing yourself to feel small in his arms.

[striped-carpet]

M. List

First Date Headcanons

Characters: Kuroo, Kenma, Bokuto, Akaashi, Oikawa, Iwaizumi

Kuroo:

A first date with Kuroo would probably consist of either a walk in the park or a movie

Maybe even both depending on the situation

I feel like he'd definitely be insistent that he pay if you two were to go get food

Or even if you just found a little trinket you like

I also think he'd be the type to walk you home and drop you off, and he might even be interested in a second date depending on if things went well

Kenma:

Kenma very obviously prefers low-activity, indoor sorts of things

That being said, I feel like to even get him to ask you out (if that's what happened), you two would have to be friends beforehand

I think the actual date part would consist of playing video games with him or something of that nature

And if video games aren't your thing, he'd offer to teach you how to play. But if you don't want to do that, either, he'd just have you watch

Either that or he'd put on a movie for the two of you

Bokuto:

For me, your first ever date with Bokuto is split between a casual movie date or something more energetic

I feel like he'd definitely be the type to take you out to a playground, and for some reason the kids there absolutely love him

The two of you would also probably grab some ice cream or something along those lines as the very last activity

Either way, it would definitely be a fun-filled date

Akaashi:

This feels so stereotypical, but I have a gut feeling that Akaashi would take you to a book store for your first date

You don't even have to buy anything, since he's mainly there to look around and get to know you

He'd follow it up by stopping at a local café for something to eat as his initial anxiety starts to fade away

To him, the first date is less about having fun as much as it is getting to know each other since he wants to make sure the two of you would be a good match

He's very sweet the whole time, though, and makes sure to take note of what makes you happy, sad, uncomfortable, etc.

Much like Kuroo, he's another one to walk you back home.

But i feel like instead of asking flat out, he'd send a follow up text to see if you'd be interested in going out again

Oikawa:

Oikawa's idea of a good first date is something fun, yet laidback

That being said, the two of you would probably meet up somewhere before heading to get something to eat

Afterwards, he'll start to actually try and get to know you

During this process, I feel like he'd either take you to something volleyball related, or to a cinema to see a movie

At first, I don't think he'd consider the date anything more than casual, but if he finds himself actually taking an interest in you, he'd try to show that a little more in hopes for a second date, and maybe even a third

Iwaizumi:

Unlike Oikawa, Iwaizumi would actually take your first date seriously, since I see him as the type of guy who dates to marry, or at the least be with someone for a while

He'd probably be decently nervous, but wouldn't show it, of course

I see him as a trampoline park on the first date type of guy, or if that's not really your thing, you could do something different

However, he'd prefer something activity based since-especially in the time skip-he seems like a fitness guy who doesn't really enjoy sitting around

The entire time, he definitely makes sure to be respectful of you and your interests, but also tries to make things as fun as possible for both of you

And again, he's the type of guy to walk you back to your place. He'd probably wait a day or two to ask you out again, though, since he wants to take time to process and think about how the date went and how he felt during it

---------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading! I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes, and hope you have a great rest of your day/night!

[thesamoanqueen]

Christmas cookies

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut, fluff.

A/N: I wanted to try writing a one-shot for christmas since I did it last year and @mindofasagittaruis request came at the right time. Enjoy and happy holidays yall~

One boxe at a time he had managed to arrange everything, filling the huge tree base that him and Y/N had decorated together a week before. He knew she would complain, scolding him because it was too much, but Roman liked to spoil her and for that occasion he had really wanted everything.

It was their first Christmas together as a couple and he wanted it to be special. Y/N liked Christmas, was her favorite holiday, she got more excited than a little girl every time and he had promised himself and her, to do everything possible to make sure nothing was missing. They had decorated the house inside and out, planned dinners with family, started watching christmas movies, booked a weekend out fitting it between both of their schedules and Roman had tried not to plan something more to finally give voice to that impulse that was now becoming an urgency.

Admiring his work one last time, he went to the kitchen, where Y/N had decided to spend her afternoon with the most classic Christmas songs, wearing yet another hoodie stolen not too discreetly from his closet. When he crossed the door, there was no corner where she hadn't scattered a little bit of sugar, flour and sprinkles. It was a battlefield strewn with bowls, trays, and baking ingredients that smelled of vanilla, cinnamon and chocolate, the kind of chaos that warms heart and tastes like home.

- What's going on here? – he inquired with a smile and she turned to look at him, hands dirty with who knows what raised in the air, while Roman twisted his arms around her hips to swing her playfully.

- I should ask to you, what was all that chaos back there? – she asked suspiciously, giving him one of knowing looks, but he pretended not to notice, giving her a quick kiss on her cheek and peeking what she was backing.

- Don't know, Santa probably.

- I don't remember I have written a letter to him.

- So these ones are for me? – he asked, pointing the Christmas cookies placed on the marble counter.

It wasn't the kind of food she usually prepared if she decided to get into the kitchen, she was more into salty and spicy recipes, and yet there they were, lots of gingerbread men, trees and cinnamon houses waiting to be decorated.

- It's just an experiment, I wanted to make something special but then I remembered you already have me in your life so I tried with simple things… guess they're not so simple – she reflected pouting, moving a couple of those who she had already tried to decorate.

The shapes were flawless, but icings had mixed together, dripping around and ruining the designs she'd tried to make. Not the kind of result expected from her being a perfectionist and Roman found himself smiling as he watched her look them one by one with her still dirty fingers, until he reached out to take a snowman. It was supposed to be white with a carrot-nose and a scarf he knew it, but the little one didn't have a very happy expression, a bit like her, at least until he swallowed it.

-They taste good – he approved, feeling the aftertaste of spices warming his mouth and he reached out to take another one.

Amazed, Y/N watched him chew the second too, face lighting up, smile emerging again on her soft lips, as she cleaned him from a crumb ended on his beard.

- Really? I should bake them for Santa so. To thanks him for all those gifts no one asked for I guess, what do you say? – she joked, tilting her head.

-I say he can have them, if I can have the chef – he left a kiss on her lips this time, mixing the flavor of Christmas cookies with her own.

He felt her soften without a single thought into his arms, flattening herself almost completely against his chest, clinging to his neck as best she could while avoiding dirtying him with icing and chocolate.

-You taste like cookies – he heard her soft laughing, between one kiss and another, making him groan.

- Yes?

- … uh-huh

He couldn't resist those whispers, even if they were playing, to see her hopelessly happy if they were together. Stealing kiss after kiss, he pulled her onto his body, forcing her legs to wrap around his hips as he placed her on the only empty corner of the kitchen counter. With her warm laughter in his ears, he slid his hands up her soft thighs, climbing higher, until he felt the full texture of that glorious ass, as he stopped kissing her to taste then her neck. By heart, he sucked that point just beyond her collarbone that caused her to shiver, immediately feeling her cling better, squeeze with her laughter which slowly became moans, forgetting about her hands dirty to hug him.

- I hadn’t finished though – she complained, her body seeming to melt like icing from his attentions and Roman slid his hands past her sweatshirt, touching that soft good smelling skin.

- I want my dessert – he demanded seriously and felt her scratching the back of his neck with red nails, drawing a dangerous growl from him that vibrated through the whole kitchen.

Without taking his lips away from her, savoring the inside of her mouth and the soft skin above her breasts, he stripped her of those extra clothes, her hands doing the same to his pants, leaving traces everywhere and making both of them as dirty as the rest. Slowly, Roman took his time to mark her, enjoy everything of that moment, ignoring his already awake boner demanding attention, to dedicate himself to something better, hidden between those infinite legs that refused to leave him. When his long fingers found her, Roman couldn't resist the temptation, dipping a finger into the heat of her perfectly wet pussy to explore the soft, welcoming walls where he wanted to sink until he completely lost himself. Y/N in front of him tightened his grip on his neck, gasping into his arms, gaze fascinated and full of lust as she watched him bring the hand up to lick clean his fingers.

- This one is just for me – he reminded her, feeling her cling to his wrist to place a kiss on the bottom lip, tasting herself too before sliding down with the back to give him all the room he demanded.

Satisfied, Roman helped her lift her thighs, making his way between them, to finally dip himself in that perfect sweet meal, nose sliding between her folds tracing the path before his fat tongue. He took a taste, slow, just with the tip, feeling Y/N's body tremble for attentions and stopped to suck high on that adorable button that made her tremble. Breaths soon became brazen moans and more volume increased, more insistent, hungry Roman became. It was so sweet down there, a bit like that icing with which she had covered cookies but not cloying, it was a flavor that he could no longer live without and that he always tried to milk away, until it dripped down onto his beard, making his mouth salivating. First her button, then that hot entrance and soft walls, puffy, full skin of the lips he loved to kiss as much as the ones up there, running his tongue flat between her, fucking that cave without mercy. Insistently he kept her pressed against his face, choking himself, maneuvering her for more, slow but commanding until Y/N began to delight him with her adorable cries, her back arched and hands trying to grab him for support.

Something next to them fell due to her jerky movements, one of the trays and Roman saw her turn her with a blank look, ending up stretching out his arm, putting the tray and bowl of icing into their place. Y/N smiled, thanking him with a glance and he placed a kiss with devotion on her pussy, his pussy, Roman’s eyes getting darker as he saw Y/N biting her lip as eager as he was at the sight of him now dirty with icing.

- Did you find something for your dessert? – he heard her ask with lust, legs pulling him closer and he grinned.

- I like it with cream on top – he reflected thoughtfully, letting some of the icing on his hand drip between her folds.

He saw her entrance tighten around nothing at the feeling, bewitching and nasty as only Y/N could be with him, only when they were together. Her, who always tried to leave nothing to chance, who controlled every little detail, perfect, impeccable, became something else with him in those moments, stooping to try anything without complaints. She was a dangerous gift, a challenge he had never found in anyone else and that would have brought him to his knees if only she had asked, a power game in which they both had the same hand but used it with complicity.

He ran his fingers between her folds, listening to her mewl, seeing Y/N hold her breath when one of his long fingers slipped some icing inside, mixing it with her juices and the saliva he had already left.

- Ahn… feels so cold mmh – she begged with those eyes that had bewitched him, pushing him to turn his hand, sink a little more to find that welcoming spot that made her cry in absolute bliss.

-Im gonna fill you up – he announced and Y/N squirmed on the counter, between spilled icing and broken cookies, without stopping being finger fucked, because she knew it wasn't with any of those ingredients that Roman wanted to do keep his promise.

Pumping into her opening, he reached down to taste her again, this time licking away the frosting he had spilled, tongue running slowly and hungrily over every inch of her soft, sensitive caramel skin. He sucked on her swollen button, the taste of her body mixing with vanilla, the sweetness of her honey hitting Roman’s mouth along with icing. A beautiful, soggy mess echoing inside his ears, a primal call that made him hungrier and hungrier as his wide mouth tried to devour her alive, kissing and licking her clean.

He loved the choking noise that came from her throat every time his lips sucked one or both of hers down there, the pop wet flesh, nose that ran through her pussy like a credit card ready to be emptied. It was the kind of pussy that had any man tied around a finger, one he would do anything for and it led to devotion, Roman was obsessed with her and looking back he really didn't know how to managed to live without, but it wasn't just that. It was all of her, it was Y/N. She had dangerously become his world even before sharing a house or Christmas together, and it was in unexpected moments like this one that reminded him of it, waking up in the depths of his stomach, inside his head, an impulse that didn't exist even in a ring, with adrenaline running into his veins, cheered by thousands of people. The need with which he had chased her for an entire year, in hotels, arenas and offices, around the country and even beyond the borders, day and night, that grip on lungs of a drowning man.

He kissed her legs, feeling her hands pulling a few locks, knees trembling as she felt him bury himself between those folds, widening that glistening opening with fingers, inserting his tongue to clean her like a mad man until he elicited a scream. Her walls tried to close, to squeeze him, as they would have done with his hard cock and Roman found himself moving his hips aimlessly, seeking relief and refusing to abandon his meal before having reduced her to tears.

He fucked her with his fat tongue, flat and strong, pounding deep into her softness, feeding on that true addicting sweetness, widening his mouth to take in as much as possible, dirtying his beard.

- Plea-aase! R-Ro, Ro! Ah! - he felt her tremble, body struggling on the marble counter, held in his arms in that unnatural pose which Y/N did not refuse to submit to anyway, just to keep her legs on his shoulders to give him everything he wanted.

He knew she was at her limit, but he refused to slow down, craving more, that impulse in his chest that was growing until he felt like was going to explode and pushed him to be savage. He ran his fingers over her button, squeezing it between his fingers to help her and as he licked her again, his tongue flat against the hot opening, Y/N exploded with a silent cry, eyes closed, breath broken. The taste of her was intoxicating, addictive and Roman stood there, as close as possible, accompanying her as she reached her peak, cleansing with dedication. With his eyes fixed on her face, he held her back until her muscles regained some strength, trailing kisses down her flat belly, up her legs, massaging Y/N with his fingers where she still throbbed and only when her shaking hands found him, along with those beautiful eyes, he stood up again.

- I could spend all my life between your legs, babygirl – he admitted menacingly, getting rid of his track that she had already undone and with her breathing still rapid, Y/N invited him, tightening her legs around his hips at the sight of his erection slapping her already swollen center.

- Do what you want, ain't complainin'ahn!-

Sinking until he lost himself, he pulled her to the edge of the counter, fitting into her and giving a long, deep stroke, savoring her warmth and that feeling of constriction, in which she stuck him every time, without giving her time to think again. Oh, he meant to. He really meant it and the thought of her indulging him went to his head enough to push him to speed up without restraint, the slimy sound of their bodies colliding now audible even among the Christmas songs. Head down, holding her open thighs, he watched her honey stain him a little more each time he thrust in, her caramel-colored mountain swelling as his flesh went deeper.

-Mmh… you're so hard – Y/N cried in a soft moan, one hand clinging to his forearm and the other to the counter edge now sticky from the icing and her pleasure.

- I can feel you squeeze around me babe, grab that dick, thats right, let daddy enjoy his pussy, y-yes – he spoke dirty, feeling and seeing her walls sucking him in, abs tense.

- Ooh shit Ro-

More her moans became louder more his hips accelerated, in Roman mind the full intention of wreck her just for himself, drilling in that spot that made her mouth open wide, taking the breath out of her lungs, making eyes close, her belly full. There was just her begging, that gorgeous luscious body of her tense and sweaty, his breath heavy, that fire running up to his mind clouded by the vision of Y/N suffering with pleasure his assault, the hammering of his hard cock. It was an asphyxiating pleasure, a hot and inexorable vice that pulsated around Roman meat, squeezing his flesh and inviting him to go deeper, until he slammed as far as possible to reach complete collapse.

- F-fu-ah! Ah! – he felt her tremble, writhe in spasms and pinned her down, fingers digging into her hips, anchoring her to that place.

- That's it, ah, beg sweetheart, yes, gimme your mess

- pl-leeah! Please!

Groaning, hyping her and himself, Roman pulled one of her legs up higher, slapping a hand into her thigh and Y/N screamed, her head sprawling from side to side, eyes closed and back arching for that new inclination. From there, he could see her moist pearl, the whitish excitement leaking out, dripping onto the marble and down, that wonderful ring that ignited the worst thoughts in him. He felt her walls tighten with more and more insistence, nails digging into his flesh and his belly on fire, while without any warning, already tormented by his attacks, Y/N once again fell apart with a strangled moan.

And so, Roman began to fuck her without mercy, growling, giving vent to every ounce of need in his body and mind, cock sliding deeper and deeper, his hot head pounding inside that sweet cave, taking advantage of her climax and streached walls. Losing all composure, losing himself in a sensation that only Y/N could give him, Roman felt shivers run down his sweaty neck and pumped until muscles burned from the physical effort, once again exceeding the limit, hitting the kitchen counter with his knees.

- Feels so good babygirl, mmmh, so good… - he moaned, while she was still panting and throbbing under him, holding on where she could, letting him go – I'm 'bout to come, lemme fill you up, I need it, I… need… it-ah!

Everything around him seemed to go silent for long minutes, only Y/N and her whispers were still there, her soft eyes that never lost sight of him, full of what he wished was love, that tired smile that widened into a perfect "o", while Roman pressed her against him, letting the fire that had burned him slide into her canal, making his nuts dry and cock throbbing. In an animalistic growl he froze inside her, emptying himself with mind suddenly white, feeling her hands pull him down, making his head rest against her breast. Silently, he gave two final, drunken thrusts to make sure there was nothing left with Y/N trying to push his hair back and leaving heated kisses on his temples. Clinging to her, he waited in that position to catch breath, music slowly starting to make sense again.

- I guess I'll have to start from the beginning... - Y/N complained with an amused breath after a while and Roman looked up, observing the mess they had created and then her, who was distractedly tasting some of the icing that had fallen on the counter.

- Need help? – he asked seriously, very seriously and Y/N stopped with a finger still on her lips, a smile growing like something else in him, once again.

A year earlier he had done everything possible to convince her to stay during holidays. Now that she was finally here, now that they were together and with no one and nothing chasing them, he was going to make the most of every second. Santa had his North Pole and later he would have his cookies, but on the Island of Relevancy was him who dictated times.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @love-islike-abomb @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @gomussy @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @usosthetics @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade

[buckys-wintersoldier]

His forever and ever

// Chapter One //

// Pairing //

-> (Ex-)Boyfriend!Mob!Bucky Barnes x (Ex-)Girlfriend!Reader

// Summary //

-> Moving on, living with your best friend and working in a part isn’t as easy as you thought but it’s not bad either. Some flirts here and there — you can be whoever you want, right?

// Wordcount //

-> 4.067 Words

// Warnings // Teen

-> angst, kind of stalking, comfort, best friend Steve, flirty John, mention of violence, jealousy,

// Authors Note //

-> The biggest thank you to the amazing @bucks-babe for proofreading and coming up with more details.

// Events //

-> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | B1 | Cold as ice | @fandom-free-bingo

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

// Series Masterlist //

<- Prologue

It’s been a few weeks since you left the mansion, the day you left you went to your friend, Steve Rogers. You both know one another since you’re kids, you grew up together. He is like your older brother, he always takes care of you.

He is handsome too, short blond hair, mostly styled and he has a highly defined muscular body, but the best of him are his oversized hoodies. Or more like his fitting hoodies but for you they are way too big and you love wearing them, especially since you broke up with Bucky.

Steve’s hoodies give you some comfort, feeling like a big hug and sometimes you also sleep with them. It doesn’t feel so cold since Bucky isn’t there to cuddle you and Steve is working and cuddling with you on the couch — then his hoodies are the best solution.

Your best friend never judges you for the movies you watch, the ice cream and chocolate you eat or laughs about the amount of tissues you need during these movies or just when you feel like everything's coming up and you need to cry.

He would and has never judged you for that, mostly he is offering you more ice cream or chocolate or he pulls you close against him, caressing your back and telling you that it will be better in a bit, that everything is going to be fine at some point. And that a pretty girl like you will find someone who deserves your love, someone who will treat you like you deserve.

Sometimes you ask yourself why your best friend needs to be gay, it would be so much easier to marry him, you know him so well and even though you’re not even the slightest bit over Bucky the thought of marrying your gay best friend is a bit funny.

Bucky is on your mind whenever you’re not fully distracted, when you close your eyes you see him in front of you and when you go out and see a man with long brown hair you always feel like it’s him. He is following you everywhere and you try as best as you can to move on but your heart still aches.

Little do you know Bucky feels the exact same but he doesn’t show it like you do. The man you used to know is deep down under a surface of hate and power. He doesn’t want anyone — not even his friends — to call him Bucky any longer, he is James Barnes and people have to look up to him.

The main time of the day he is working, mostly from the early morning into the night, but when he walks back into his room, the man he tries to be the whole day breaks down, his heart shattered and he didn’t know that it’s even possible that he can break that much.

James Barnes is nothing but a broken man, missing the only woman he loves, he is nothing without you, he can’t even laugh without you being around to give him a reason to laugh. The light in his dark turned off, leaving a hole where he is still falling, he feels like there is no ground underneath him.

“James?” One of his men asks and he looks up, rolling his eyes annoyed. Bucky has dark shadows under his eyes, he doesn't get much sleep and he mostly cries himself to sleep — thinking he is pathetic, crying as a mobster but he can’t help when he thinks about you and especially not when he thinks about you moving on, maybe having another man who makes you happy.

“What? Can't you all just fuck off and do as you're told?” He asks, his voice dark but slightly shaking. Since the day you left the mansion to move on without him he isn't himself anymore. Or maybe he is but he is the darkest and coldest side of himself he can be, trying to forget everything, trying to move on but who would he be? Would he move on without you by his side?

How could he dare to love himself when he pushed the only person who means everything for him away like she doesn't mean anything for him. He looks at the man in front of you, his blue eyes a storm of emotion but only for the ones who have seen the real man behind that cold surface, who have seen the lovely and sweet man.

“You wanted us to keep you updated,” the other man says, slightly shifting from one foot to the other. James doesn't care, he already knows, of course he told his men to keep him updated about you but as much as he tries to focus on his other work he just can. So he spends most of the day following every step you do, finding out about the place you live now, the place you work or where you spent your nights with.

“And do you have news or do you want to waste my time by standing around instead of doing your work?” James asks, rolling his eyes once again, sighing deeply. He leans forward, placing his forearms on the desk he is sitting at, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his muscular tattooed arms. “Dickhead.”

The man who is still standing in the door of James' office looks at his boss with a slight shock in his widened eyes. He plays with his fingers, trying to calm his nervousness before he clears his throat, looking away from James. “S—She is going to the bar today, probably working but we heard that Steve is going there with her.”

Steve? James knows about your best friend, your gay best friend. He nods, scratching his beard. “Steve, huh? Describe him.”

The man nods, trying to remember the man he means. He inhales deeply, still nervous around the mobster and James' anger doesn't make it better at all. “Light brown hair, uhm tall and muscles, he had a girl close to him.”

“Oke, fuck off now.” The man turns immediately around, making his way as fast as possible out of James' office. The brown-haired mobster leans back in his chair, inhaling deeply while he tries to blink the tears away. It’s not your best friend youre going out with so who the fuck is that guy?

What does that Steve guy that he doesn’t have? Bucky could have given you the town, the whole world, but also the flowers you love so much, so what do you see in Steve? James brings his hand to his hair, sliding his fingers through his soft brown hair and when he closes his eyes for a moment it feels like it's your soft, smaller hand that combs his hair back. Your scent still lingering everywhere he goes and he is sure that it's just in his mind because not even your shirt you forgot is smelling like you anymore.

Sometimes it feels like the weight of the world is crashing on top of him, showing him over and over again that he messed up and that he should have been a better boyfriend for you. Maybe you would still live with him, maybe you would love him the way you used to and just maybe you would have your own little family now.

So just as he does so often he plans to look after you, making sure you're fine even though he never talked to you. James often went out to the place you were, looking for you and looking at you from a distance, he didn't want you to know that he is following you everywhere like a lost puppy — like the lost and broken puppy he is without your warmth and love. James gets up from his chair, making his way through his office to get ready for the evening to finally get you back, to get back the woman he loves more than anything else.

“Stevie, can we go now?” You ask, laughing when your best friend still struggles with his outfit. He walks out of his room, holding up two different shirts, and looks at you with a questioning gaze. With a playful roll of your eyes you look at the shirts he is holding in his hands until you point at the light blue one with the silver star on his shoulder. He nods with a soft smile, turning around and changes his shirt before he stands for the next problem of the evening.

“How do I want to style my hair? Do you think there are some hot guys, then I should look good too, maybe I can take one home later,” he giggles, standing in front of his mirror, fingers running to his short blond hair while he tries to style them a bit.

You chuckle, getting off the couch and walking into his room, standing behind him and he immediately gets on his knees so you can help him with his hair. A groan leaves your lip when you realize how easy he is going on his knees for you. “You always look handsome, Stevie. But how about we comb them back? Maybe they are going on their knees for you just as fast as you did for me right now.”

Steve laughs, letting his head fall back against your leg and smiles at you. His ocean blue eyes glowing slightly and for a moment you see Bucky kneeling in front of you. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply and letting your mind run wild, imagine Bucky there with you, the way he looked at you with such adoration and love in his eyes. Whenever he looked at you his smile grew and his eyes lit up in the most beautiful blue, you always compared it with the ocean, especially during the sunset when the sun was kissing the ocean.

“Princess, hey, look at me,” Steve says, lifting his hand to bring it to your cheek, he wipes away the tears you didn't even know were covering your cheeks. You open your eyes, looking at your best friend, who smiles sadly at you.

He would love to take that pain away from you, to help you forget Bucky but he also knows that you're just not ready to do that. Your heart belongs to the mobster and it will probably forever.

“How about we let my hair be a bit messy?” Steve suggests and gets up before you can say anything. You nod, taking a step backwards and letting him get up. He holds his arms out for you to let him hug you and you smirk a bit when you let him pull you close against his chest. You can feel his defined muscles and his heart beating in a steady pace against his ribcage.

After the needed hug you make your way to the bar you're working at. Steve and you were often there to get you distracted after the break-up with Bucky. And you really appreciate it because just a week after going there the first time the boss of the bar asked you to work there as bartender and you immediately agreed.

It's a small bar with a little dance floor, the people who work there with you are really nice and also the customers are always nice. When they aren’t you can tell the bodyguards that you feel uncomfortable and they would immediately throw them out of the bar. Your boss made it clear “You feel uncomfortable? Let the bodyguards know and they will throw them out. Want my people to have fun at work, so never hesitate to say something.”

You’re already working for around half an hour and Steve is sitting in front of you, talking to you. You both always gossip over the boys in the bar, especially the ones Steve likes to look at and the ones who look at him. “Do you see that small guy there? The one with the dark hair.”

Steve nods in a direction and you chuckle when you see the man he is talking about. The other man is definitely that type of guy Steve would date. You smirk, leaning over so you're closer to Steve. “Catch him, tiger.”

Your best friend turns around, laughing about that nickname. You don't know when you called him that the first time but you describe his way to get a boy is always like a tiger is looking for his food, quiet and careful before he jumps on top of it.

When the smaller man walks closer to the two of you, your grin widens. You notice that man, you have seen him a few times here already and he was often looking at Steve then. You know his name and you also know his favorite drink, so you tap Steve's shoulder to get his attention, leaning closer once again.

“Stevie, he is coming here. I know his name and his favorite drink, do you want to impress him?” You ask, laughing when Steve’s eyes widen in excitement before he nods slightly. “His name is Anthony Stark but he prefers to be called Tony, and his drink is whiskey, so do you want to order two whiskeys for the two of you?”

You already prepare the drinks when Steve nods and turns lightly to the side to find Tony standing just a bit away from him. Your best friend gets off the chair, holding his hand out for Tony to take it and the smaller man does, smirking at the blond-haired man.

“Hi, handsome, how about a drink? Maybe a whiskey?” Steve asks, catching the smaller man off guard until he hears you giggle and looks at you, shaking his head. Tony then nods, letting go of Steve's hand and walking closer to the bar you're standing at, he takes a seat, waiting for Steve to do the same.

“Here you are, boys,” you say, smirking when both of them are already deep in their own talks, only nodding their heads as a thank you for the drink. You continue to work, making drinks and snacks for every one who asks for something.

When you have a short break, you stare at the people dancing in the middle of the bar, laughing and then you see Steve and Tony jumping and dancing around, waving at you. You wave back, laughing softly about their cuteness. You don’t notice the man who is sitting close to where you’re standing at the bar, his eyes roaming over your face and he can't help but need to smirk when he sees your eyes light up and your lips curl into such a beautiful smile.

“They look happy, have seen you know them? Such a cute couple,” the man says and you yelp in surprise, turning your head and feeling your cheeks heat up. He smirks at you, changing his seat to be closer to you and you giggle softly, when he places his arms on the surface of the table, his smirk grows when you prepare a drink for him.

“With or without lemon?” You ask, already letting a bit of lemon fall down into the glass filled with whiskey. Before he can answer he sees you adding the sour fruit and nodding, tilting his head to the side when you place the glass in front of him. “For free, because I'm in a good mood after seeing my best friend being so happy like that.”

The man chuckles, he then takes a sip of the drink and growls satisfied about the taste. “It's perfect, I'm John by the way, and who is the pretty girl I have the honor to talk to?” John asks and you giggle lightly, you had a lot of flirts since you have been working in the bar but he is definitely one of your favorites.

“I'm Y/N,” you tell him, looking straight into his blue eyes. Sometimes you wonder if you have a kind of weakness for men with blue eyes. But whoever stands in front of you can have the most beautiful eyes but they are nothing compared to Bucky’s, especially not to his ones when he was laughing.

It annoys you that he is always in your mind, stopping you from being happy completely but on the other side you're scared that when you would stop thinking about him that often you could forget about him. He hurt you, he broke promises and broke a part of you with that but no matter what he did you love him more than you ever thought you could love someone.

“Such a beautiful name. Are you alright, you're not looking as happy as you best friend and his date,” the blond haired man asks and you try to smile it away, the pain that is glistening in your eyes. “Do you know, I'm a stranger but I'm a cool stranger and sometimes it's easier to tell someone you don't know about your problems instead of someone you do know very well.”

He takes another sip of his whiskey, his eyes still piercing in yours and you sigh softly, shaking your head. Maybe he is right, maybe you should tell him about Bucky, about your break-up. But when you do you better not call Bucky by his name, people like to react really weird when they know that you were together with a mobster. You make yourself a drink too, just lemonade with some ice before you place your hands on the counter in front of you, nodding your head.

“You could be right. I mean I don't know but who cares right?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to make it easier for you to talk about Bucky. John nods, waiting patiently for you to continue talking.

You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him longer than just these five minutes. His patient and his soft smirk across his face causes you to relax, you weren't able to do that in a while but you're glad you can relax around another man than Steve — or Bucky — especially right now. And a part of you is glad that he isn't just one who wants to flirt with you but is really interested in you and your feelings.

“My bo- my ex-boyfriend and I broke up a few weeks ago. He used to be so sweet and caring but at some point it felt like his work was the most important thing in his life. He promised to go out but he never kept that promise, he made it up to me— yeah, with really good sex. But it's not all when you never get the affection and love you crave and when your boyfriend thinks you're self-evident and willing to forgive him everything no matter how bad he hurts you,” you tell John, his smirks fades away and his eyes narrow slightly. He places his hands underneath his chin, nodding when you finished talking, giving himself a moment to process what you just said.

After a moment he clears his throat, he interlocks his fingers and places his chin on top of them once again, then he smirks softly at you. “He didn't know what he had when he treated you like that. Heartbreaks always hurt but I'm sure you will find someone who will bring back your smile, who will love you and where you’re the priority in his life,” John says and makes you blush.

Even though you blush and appreciate his words, whenever you hear those words you think about Bucky. The way he used to touch you, his lips so soft and warm against your skin, he knows you better than you do and the way he just looked at you. He always found the best solution to comfort you even though it was just a hug or kisses, he always had a solution for every feeling that wasn't happiness. You felt like you were the most adorable woman, even the day you moved out he looked at you like that, you can still see his teary, red eyes when you told him that you need to move on when you close your eyes.

When you open your mouth to say something you see someone walking toward the bar. You swallow thickly, recognizing the man who makes his way toward you. Only now you notice the way the people close around the bar whisper something to one another and stare into two directions, the one is toward you where the broad man is walking toward the bar you're standing behind and the direction is to the lounge in a corner of the bar.

John turns a bit around to look at the man who causes your eyes to widen. Your body starts to tremble and you don't even have to look to the lounge to know who is sitting there. You inhale deeply, maybe they just want a drink and nothing more, he doesn't know that you're working in the bar, right? But he always told you he will find you and he can find everyone and anything if he wants.

“H—Hi, do you want to have a drink? Maybe with some snacks?” You ask nicely, hands shaking when you want to turn around to grab two glasses. He didn't even pay attention to you, Thor — Bucky's Bodyguard — looks down at John who narrows his eyebrows, looking confused between you and the broad man in front of him.

“You should leave now,” Thor growls, nodding his head toward the door but John doesn't move. You feel really uncomfortable right now but you’re frozen to the ground, not able to walk a step or ask some of the bodyguards of the bar. And you're not even sure if they would throw the mobster and his man out of the bar.

“I don't think you can tell me what to do, and I’m having a good talk with this beautiful girl here, so please leave us alone,” John says, calmly when he turns back toward you. His eyes widen when he sees the terror in your eyes, and your body trembles while you stare at Thor. “Are you oke?”

You move your head slightly to look at John, nodding your head before you shake it and swallow thickly once again. Thor's hand snaps forward, grasping John's chin and turning his face with force back toward you before he forces John to tilt his head back, grabbing tight around his jaw while Thor leans closer. There are only inches away between both men's faces. “I told you to leave and I won't say that again. My boss doesn't like it when someone who isn’t him flirts with his girl.”

“You can tell Bucky that I'm not his girl anymore. I broke up so leave John alone,” you say, feeling a smooth tingling in your lower belly that Bucky still says that you belong to him. But at the same time you are kind of mad that he wants to decide who you’re dating, especially when he just walks into the bar and doesn’t even let you talk to John.

John wiggles out of Thor's grip, getting off the chair and walking a few steps backwards. The broad man looks at him, grinning lightly but before he can react John lifts his hand and hits Thor across his face. The bodyguard's eyes widen and he walks a few steps back, looking with shock and confusion in his eyes at the smaller man.

“I’m sorry, John,” you mumble, earning just a soft smile and a shake of his head from the man. You don’t need to apologize for something you didn’t do. Thor just wants to step closer toward John when his phone buzzes. He reads whatever the other person wrote before he furrows, stares at John, then looks at you and smirks.

“He doesn’t like it when you make him jealous, you know that,” he mumbles, turning around and heading back to the lounge. You follow him with your eyes and then you see HIM.

Bucky Barnes, the man who still owns your heart, the one and only man for you. But also the one who hurt you and the one who scares other men away from you, making sure there is no one you can date when it’s not him.

-> Chapter Two

-> Asks, ideas, small Drabble ideas are appreciated! So feel free to reach out in case you have ideas or questions.

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Candlelit kisses

{When your apartment complex loses power you and Spencer have a sleepover leading you to both share your first kiss}

It’s a long one. Hope you enjoy lovelies!! 💕

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The last thing you were expecting today was a power cut this late into the night, and perhaps that’s why you let out a little yelp with a jump when Spencer knocks at your door causing you to almost drop the small tealight that you were lighting.

“Hey, is your power out too?” You ask, and he nods with a slightly frustrated sigh, his eyebrows knit together as he tries not to drop the papers and books he’s holding against his chest.

You and Spencer have been neighbours for a while now and somewhere along the line, you two got closer. He would come over almost every Friday, sometimes he even stayed over, well more like he would accidentally fall asleep and you never had the heart to wake him up.

“I can’t work like this” he complains walking into your apartment as he drops his work onto your kitchen table. You can practically feel the stress radiating from him as he rolls his shoulders, it was strange seeing him so tensed up.

You walk over to him with a flashlight, “Well hello to you too Spencer, oh yeah no, my day has been good” you sarcastically ramble, and he lets out a dry chuckle looking over at you as you sit down next to him.

“Sorry, I just— it’s a big inconvenience” he sighs once again as he rakes his fingers through his hair. Your hand rests on his shoulder as you give him a gentle look, soothing his arm.

You flick the flashlight on illuminating the table, “Yeah you’re telling me— but hey, I could be your very own personal lamp” you say trying to lighten up the mood, but your attempts are fruitless, and you frown when he shakes his head with a heavy sigh.

In all honesty, Spencer doesn’t want to do any work tonight. He wants to play silly board games with you, only to catch you cheating horribly and watch as you try and defend yourself through a fit of giggles. He wants, more than anything, to just hold you and go to sleep.

“Sorry, I just barged in here complaining- I’ll- I'll leave” he panics slightly. Your relationship is still new, everything felt so thrilling and Spencer is terrified of messing up somehow because he's so insanely in love with you. He doesn’t want to lose this feeling or you, ever.

“Spencer what?— don’t be silly, I don’t mind you staying here you know that” You try to stop him from gathering up his stuff but he’s stubborn as he makes his way towards your door, completely ignoring you.

He stops when you tug on his elbow, “Don’t leave, please” you mumble deciding to swallow your pride, “It’s really dark in here and I don’t want to be alone” you whisper, feeling a little childish but it was true nonetheless.

Your apartment was completely engulfed in darkness, the only thing lighting it was the small tealights that you scattered around, and the cool light of the moon, that splayed across the room. But yet even that made it seem scarier, something out of a horror movie.

Spencer thinks he might melt by how sweet you sound, you wanted him to stay and the thought of you needing him makes him feel all floaty inside.

“Okay, yeah I’ll stay,” he says, smiling softly as he watches your face light up with excitement. He wasn’t too much of a fan of the dark either, the mystery of what might linger within the shadows always seemed much too daunting. Something he couldn’t shake even as he got older.

You clasp your hands together with a smile, “Oh!- I have something actually” his eyebrows furrow with slight confusion as he watches you disappear into your bedroom, but not before your turn around, “I’ll be one second” you inform him, he responds with a quiet, ‘okay?’ Still confused by what’s going on in that wonderful mind of yours.

He sets his work back down on your kitchen table, deciding that it’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. You soon return with a globe-shaped night light in hand, “Spencer Reid, be prepared to be amazed” you smile, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little excited watching you click the batteries into the light.

You set it down on the coffee table before pressing the small button, a hopeful gleam in your eyes, silently praying that it will still work. And it does, the light shines in different colours projecting stars and moons onto the walls and ceiling. Spencer looks around the room, turning around as he does, admiring the way the room is suddenly lit up with warm colours.

“There was a study that found red to be the best colour to fall asleep to as it increases the production of melatonin,” he says, eyes still focused on the stars and moons that litter across the room in an orangey hue. He looks over to you and he goes to ramble off about night lights and their pros and cons but he finds himself completely taken back.

Spencer can practically feel the words leave his mind, and all his thoughts are replaced with you, how pretty you look underneath the warm light. He notices how your soft skin glows and the way your eyes seem to glisten, he doesn’t think there’s anyone in the world who compares to your beauty, in fact, he knows there isn’t. You’re so radiant, and he hopes that the smile your wearing is because of him.

You go bashful once you realise what’s happening, he’s looking at you as if you were a piece of art, sculpted by the gods. And he has those love-filled eyes, the same look he had when he finally asked you out on a date.

“You- you’re beautiful,” he tells you as if it was an undeniable fact, his voice so quiet that you almost miss it. Your smile breaks wider with his gentle words.

You can’t help but giggle, you felt so giddy inside. A feeling you haven’t felt in such a long time and it warms you. “Thank you Spence” you smile.

He feels almost prideful at your reaction, a feeling that settles in his chest blooming through to his heart and it takes his breath away, although you always have that effect on him no matter what you do.

There’s a beat of silence. “So, what about a game of Uno?” You suggest sitting down on the carpet as you reach for the box, patting the floor as an invitation for him to sit, “Loser pays for dinner” You wiggle your eyebrows and he chuckles joining you on the floor.

There is no winning when it comes to Spencer and board games, especially when it’s Uno. In all honesty, you regret going through the rules so intently with him. It’s impossible to win for a multitude of reasons. One because he’s so incredibly smart, and two because he’s a profiler, he can tell when you’re bluffing from a mile away.

So you’ve resorted to hiding cards underneath your thigh, and it worked for a solid minute, then he gives you a look as if to say ‘I know what you’re doing’ and the chuckle that unceremoniously leaves you doesn’t exactly help defend you.

“You’re totally cheating!” He claims, noticing how you’re three cards less than before. You gasp, a hand against your chest as you look at him with shock.

“Cheating? I wouldn’t” you exaggerate your offence, leaning forward to try and take a peak at his remaining cards, but he’s fast to hold them against his chest.

You take the cards from his hands, dodging his hands as he tries to grab them from you. “I would’ve won anyway, and you know it, that’s why hid those cards under your thigh- you know you probably would’ve won if you played your cards correctly, but you’re-” he blabs on, not even noticing how close you are to him. It’s not until your lips are against his that he completely falls silent, taken back by the sudden closeness.

You shock yourself a little too, it was almost as if you had no control it just happened. You push away from him, consumed by a sudden surge of panic.

“I’m so sorry Spencer- I” he grabs your hands before you lose yourself to your own worry, and beneath the dim lights you can see the slightest red dust against his cheeks.

“No!- it’s okay, I- I erm, I liked it actually” he tells you with an almost hopeful smile that you’ll do it again.

You smile back at him and this time you decide to simply ask, “Can I kiss you again? Properly this time” You study his face for any signs of discomfort, and there is none. He nods whispering a bashful, ‘Of course, you can'

And without missing a beat his hands rest on either side of your face and he meets you halfway, his supple lips against yours, a movement that seems to come so naturally to the pair of you. It’s sweet and gentle, and there’s the slightest taste of peppermint and something else, him.

Spencer thinks his heart might just jump out of his chest it’s beating so hard and he swears you hear it too or worse his thoughts. He can’t believe that this is happening, with you.

You tilt your head to urge him closer, your tongue against his and he loses himself. His hold changes as if he’s scared to let you go, that you might not be real, that all of this is just pretend. He kisses you with urgency as if you might just disappear.

You pull back to rest your forehead against his, “Spencer, I’m not going anywhere- you can slow down” you tell him, your tone so gentle as you take his hands guiding them away from your face to rest on your lap.

He nods against you, “I'm sorry- it just, feels too good to be true I guess” he admits, noticing the way you squeeze his hand, your thumb grazing against the curves of his knuckles.

“You don’t have to apologise- just know I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying right here with you” you whisper, brushing his hair behind his ear as you press a kiss to the tip of his nose, then another to his cheek then to the corner of his mouth and so on.

You pepper kisses against his face until he’s laughing, trying to push you away and the sound makes your heart clench with love, it’s something you’ll never grow tired of hearing.

“You're still paying for dinner by the way,” he says lips grazing against yours. And just when you’re about to kiss him, in an attempt to persuade him otherwise, the lights turn on and it’s then you can really see him, in much better lighting. Rosy cheeks and glossy love-sick eyes, and you think you fall for him ten times harder.

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