#valentines fanfic
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cavillsbitch · 2 years ago
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Love Sense
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Aaron Hotchner x NonBAU fem!reader
Summary: Aaron is away on a case for your first Valentine’s day as a couple, and he surprises you with a gift.
Warnings: None really, flufffffffff, there will probably be mistakes sorry
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: Hiiii Hotch girlies, allow me to enter your space. I’ve been wanting to write something for Aaron for a while, but as usual I don’t ever finish anything and that leads me to not even start sometimes. BUT I saw a tiktok where a girl got a similar gift to the one reader gets here, which lead me to this. Let me know what you think, see you on the other side đŸ«Ą
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You hadn’t predicted that you would be spending your first Valentine’s day in a very long time with a partner
 alone in your apartment.
You were very aware, since before the two of you were officially in a relationship, that Aaron’s job was demanding of his time, and you respected that. He worked very hard, and put a lot of himself into his job. He saved lives every single day, and you were so proud of him. You only wished that he was home for Valentine’s day. You felt selfish at the thought, but knew you had a gift for him waiting when he got home, whenever that may be.
Speaking of, your phone chimed as soon as your Keurig began dispensing your coffee. As you looked down, you saw that the message was from Aaron.
Your heart skipped and the waiting message, assuming and hoping that it was a loving holiday wish.
Aaron: Check your front porch.
You raised your eyebrows as your heart rate quickened with anticipation. As your coffee finished brewing, you took a few quick steps to the door and opened it, revealing a huge vase full of red roses and a gift bag. You also noticed the card taped to the front of the vase with your name on it.
Picking up the gifts, practically skipping back inside, you closed the door and set the flowers on the counter. Taking a quick selfie next to the roses and holding your gift, you sent it in response.
Y/N: Seems I’ve got a secret admirer.
Aaron: Ask Jess, I know nothing.
Aaron: Kidding. Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart. I wish I could spend it with you. I promise I will make it up to you. And, you look beautiful as always.
You felt yourself beginning to get emotional reading the last message, feeling guilty for not thinking to send his gift with one of his team members when they left for the case.
Y/N: Sorry that you have to wait for your Valentine’s gift. You don’t have to make up anything. It’s incredible that you even thought to have Jess drop this off for me. You are too sweet, Hotchner.
Aaron: Only for you. See you soon, hopefully. I will keep you posted. Enjoy your day.
Sending a quick response and making sure to tell him to be careful as always, you took a deep inhale near the roses, taking in the sweet fresh scent. You couldn’t wait, practically ripping the card open. The front was a beautiful velvet textured photo of a rose, and the inside had no print. However, the message in Aaron’s signature block lettering was much nicer.
“My Dear Y/N,
Happy Valentine’s Day. It’s just my luck that I get called away during our first Valentine’s day, and I’m so sorry. I promise I will make it up to you when I get back, in as many ways as you’ll let me.
Speaking of, I know we haven’t been together for too long just yet, but I want you to know that I care about you and I feel very lucky to have a woman like you in my life. I hope that you know how I feel. You overwhelm my senses in a way that I have never felt before, and I mean that. I hope you enjoy your day even though we can’t spend it together.
See you soon, sweetheart.
Aaron”
The heartfelt intent in his message was clear and genuine, and it made your chest feel warm. You felt just as lucky to have this amazing man in your life. Neither of you had said ‘I love you’ yet, and you knew he wanted to take things slowly in that regard, but the fact that he had written, “our first Valentine’s day” was a clear indicator to you that he was serious about moving forward in your relationship, and you couldn’t wait to see what the future held. As you took out some of the white and pink tissue paper, you noticed a few things wrapped in the same paper inside the bag. You took out the first one you could grab, and noticed a small index-like card taped to it.
“Smell”
Your eyebrows crinkled with curiosity reading the script on the card. Smell? You peaked inside the bag, moving some more tissue to the side and noticed another visible card that read, “Taste”.
He coordinated gifts to each of the five senses.
As realization began setting in, you smiled softly thinking about how he must have spent time trying to find things you liked, or thought you might, to go with each sense. Also, five gifts? You wondered if this was typical of men like Aaron, or if you were just truly that lucky. Your smile didn’t fade as you turned the card in your hand over to read the reverse side.
“I can’t stop dreaming of your perfume, which made it very easy for me to find.”
Before the butterflies made you swoon completely, you gently tore open the tissue paper to reveal a good sized bottle of your not-so-cheap perfume, one of the only things you’d mentioned to Aaron that you allowed yourself to splurge on when he complimented it, you think, on your first date. The memory was fond, and you could barely believe he remembered it.
Your smile was bigger now as you reached into the bag to pull out the next gift, the one you’d already seen, “Taste”. You flipped the card over to read the message.
“I know we can’t exactly have dinner together while I’m away, but I can at least buy dinner for you.”
This package was much smaller and thin, so much so that you wouldn’t have known it was a gift if the label wasn’t taped to it. As you tore the paper, a gift card for Doordash fell into your hands. This one made you chuckle and shake your head. Even as he’s miles away from you, he’s making sure that he gets to treat you. In the 6 or so months that you’d been together, he always made a point to treat you in some way, even if you were stubborn enough to convince him to buy dinner or split a bill. You set the gift card aside, contemplating what you might order yourself for dinner tonight as you reached in and grabbed one of the larger gifts.
“Touch”
Before flipping the card over, you noticed the fact that although it was one of the biggest gifts, it was quite light. Turning the card to the reverse side, you read, “Alright, this one might be just as much for my sense of touch as it is yours. I hope you’ll enjoy it all the same, I know I will.”
Excitement struck in your stomach as you still carefully tore the pink tissue paper to reveal a gorgeous set of silk and lace lingerie. The color was gorgeous, a deep sage green, and you knew it would compliment your skin tone and the few tattoos you had. The top had a bodice shape, though it was soft and lacy. There was a silky soft robe to pair with it, also a garter set and g-string. This is the first moment so far that you are grateful Aaron isn’t in the room with you, because your face is a deep red and your jaw is on the floor.
You and Aaron had been pretty physical from the beginning of your relationship, you loved how giving he was and how he always made sure to satisfy you in the best ways. You hadn’t really had the attention from a man before in the same way as with Aaron. You attributed it to his age and experience, but learned over time that he was just an excellent lover. He listened to you and your body, he learned what you liked and didn’t, and you’ve had some of the best sex of your life in his bed. He knows that you have some deep rooted hard-to-shake insecurities, and he is always complimentary both intimately and casually. You couldn’t wait to see his reaction when you wear this set for him when he comes home.
The next gift was labeled “Hearing”. This was a sizable box, you noticed as you turned the card over. “Hopefully these won’t bother your ears as much as what you have. I have a feeling they won’t. I hope the first thing you use them for is to listen to the Beatles.”
Headphones. It couldn’t be

You tore the paper excitedly and you were met with a box with very new and very expensive over-the-ear headphones. You actually squealed at the sight, another item in green, and something you seriously needed but could never spend the money on yourself. You had mentioned once on a run with Aaron that you couldn’t wear your earbuds as long as you’d like to because after a while they bothered your ears. You knew he was attentive and always listening and learning about you, it was still technically early in your relationship even now, but you were pretty blown away at the fact that he was putting in this much effort.
Part of you felt a twinge of guilt, maybe you didn’t deserve this. You had never been spoiled before, and you didn’t want to take advantage of having a boyfriend that was well off. However, you are typically stubborn about him spending money on you, so you guessed this was a chance he took to splurge for you. You were already dreaming of the ways you would repay him, probably while wearing your new lingerie. Shaking your head at that thought, you set the headphones down next to the vase.
Knowing there was one last gift, “Sight”, you reached in and pulled out the final card-shaped gift that was sat at the bottom of the bag. On the reverse side of the card, you read, “I can’t wait to share this experience with you.”
You noticed it was only a few sheets of folded paper that the card was taped to, and you unfolded to see a screenshot of what appeared to be an AirBnB booking for this coming weekend as well as a photo of Niagara Falls. The paper folded underneath was a flight confirmation.
You couldn’t hold back your tears as your mouth fell agape. A few weeks ago, Aaron had been called away on a case near the falls in New York. You had told him that when you were young, your mom bought you a few books about different locations in the United States, Niagara Falls being one of them. In the book, it mentioned the Canadian and American sides of the falls, and you’d never gotten the chance to visit either. You knew, you told him, that the Canadian side was the better side and that you hoped to visit it one day, you just hadn’t gotten around to it.
Setting the papers down and looking around at the countertop surface adorned with gifts and crumpled tissue paper, you were so full of joy and disbelief. Growing up, you’d thought this kind of thing only happened to girls in movies and books, but here you were feeling so special that it was hard to believe and feel like you deserved it.
You couldn’t wait to call Aaron, but you cautioned yourself that he was working, so a short text would have to do for now.
Y/N: Aaron
 I don’t even know what to say. I don’t deserve you. I can’t believe how thoughtful you are. I am so lucky. I can’t wait to see you.
Fighting the urge at this point to end a text with “I love you” was getting difficult, but you knew especially given Aaron’s past that you had to leave that first step to him, no matter what you felt. You must’ve caught him at a good time, because his response was almost immediate.
Aaron: You deserve all of it and more, honey. I can’t wait for this weekend. Hopefully I will be home by tomorrow night or the next morning. I will call you later, okay?
Y/N: Sounds good. Please be safe, talk to you later. Try to enjoy your Valentine’s day (:
Setting your phone down, you sighed contently, completely forgetting about your now cold cup of coffee, dreaming about your upcoming weekend with the man you love.
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wrrrenff · 10 months ago
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Our First Valentines
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Stardew Valley Elliot x F! reader. Synopsis: You and Elliot have been dating for a few months now. Being the romantic he is, Elliot went all out for the woman he loves of this special holiday. Warning: n/a
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Valentine's day was approaching. Everyone with a partner in the valley was practically buzzing with excitement, speculating what plans their loved ones have planned for them and sharing what they themselves have planned. It was sweet. You had never really had a valentines day that was more than a 'fancy' (chili's) dinner and sex right after. Not that you hated that, it just wasn't anything magical. You were very happy to have probably the most loving boyfriend you ever had to spend the holiday with this year. Thinking about your time together, you started preparing you gifts for your man.
In his cabin, Elliot was busy at work making Valentine's preparations. He has always wanted to go above and beyond for his love and now was his chance. How could he not celebrate the greatest person he has ever met? You're the woman who changed his life, became his muse, inspired him to finish his novel! He got up extra early to begin preparing, going as far as to travel to Zuzu City to get supplies for today. After hours and hours of work, it was almost time to pick you up at the farm for the big night. Elliot walked over to his mirror, made some final adjustment to his outfit, and he was off.
Just as you finished up putting yourself together, there was a knock on the door. "Coming!" You put on your shoes and headed to the door. You were greeted with you devilishly handsome boyfriend. He was wearing a play on his normal attire. A sleek red blazer, a white button down, a vibrant green tie that paired nicely with his matching slacks and a pair of dress shoes. As you were taking him in, he was admiring you just as much. You decided you wear a beautifully fitted red dress that showed of all your best assets and a pair white heels that extenuated your legs. He wanted to drink you up, but he resisted like the gentleman he is. "My darling, you look incredible. Like a work of art." He took you hand in his and kissed it leaving you a blushing mess. "You look so handsome my dear." You replied, walking up close to him to give him a proper kiss. Elliot composed himself. You were not making it easy to control himself. He extended his arm to you. "Shall we?" You accepted him arm and you both headed off towards his home.
Arriving to his shack, he leads you in an you notices the lengths he went to celebrate your relationship tonight. Candles decorated the room, flower petals trailing around the room, the table set with a lavish meal, and the ting that impressed you the most, a bouquet of white lilies, apple blossoms, baby's breath, red camellia, honeysuckle, and of course, red roses. Elliot had told you about the language of flowers after researching it for his book. After this, you two would use this language to send each other meaningful messages. You were speechless. You turned to Elliot and captured him in an emotional hug. "You didn't have to do all of this. Thank you so much. I love you." Elliot pull back from the hug and locks his eyes onto yours. "I would walk to the ends of the earth if it would make you smile. This is nothing." You both laughed at his cheesiness.
"Now I feel like my gift to you is dumb." You looked at the ground feeling embarrassed. "You don't have to give me anything princess. You being here is plenty." Before you could worry much more over it, you handed him a carefully wrapped box. He opened it up to reveal a few bottles of squid ink. Now was Elliot's turn to be speechless. You worried he hated it so you started rambling. "I'm sorry. I know it's lame. I just remembered you mentioning when you got to try writing with squid ink but couldn't keep doing it due to the rarity and expense so I thought I'd raise some squid on my farm and-" Before you could realize it, Elliot and set down the gift and captured your lips. The kiss was filled with with so much love and adoration for you. It almost brought you to your knees. "Y/N, this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. You truly are the best thing to happen to me."
After that, you both headed to the table to eat. You had complimented his cooking, surprised at how good it was considering Elliot claimed to be a terrible chef. Sheepishly, Elliot admitted to having Gus cater your dinner. It didn't matter at all to you though. Just the amount of thought put into the night was enough to solidify this is the man you were meant to spend your life with. The love and care he has shown you time and time again only supported this. After your incredible dinner, Elliot put a record on the vinyl and you two danced for a while. It felt perfect. Everything felt perfect with him. Swaying in his arms, you couldn't imagine anywhere else you'd rather be than here with him.
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jerzwriter · 11 months ago
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Tickler Tuesday: Valentine Edition
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I know a lot of people hate Valentine's Day, and I get why, but I've always loved it. Of course, I view it differently than most. I have none of the commercialism. To me, it's about red and pink (two colors that always make me smile), chocolate (always a winner), and love - but not only romantic love. Some of the best V-Days of my life have been spent with friends, my daughter, and sometimes even strangers I just met. It's all what you make of it. So, my goal is to have a little Valentine's Day fic for each of my pairings... and to finish the 2nd part of Tobias & Casey's from last year (because I totally suck. lol)
Here's a sneak peek at the WIPs...
Casey x Jessica | Open Heart (prequel)
Nothing made Casey smile more than Jessica’s melodious laugh, so it was no surprise that the closer she inched to her classroom, the wider her smile grew. She was quite sure these students had no idea how lucky they were to have her girlfriend as their TA? But Casey knew what she had. Stepping into the room, she couldn't wait to see Jess's smile, and she did, for just a second. Jess's face fell at once.
“What... what the hell is that?” she asked, motioning furiously in Casey’s direction.
Casey looked down, perplexed, rubbing her hands along her torso to see what was wrong, but nothing seemed amiss.
“What’s what?”
“That sweater! Why are you wearing that sweater?”
Casey appeared almost offended as she caressed her favorite cashmere sweater. It had been a gift from her parents, and Jess knew it was one of her favorites.
“But... I love this sweater! You love this sweater!”
“I do,” Jess sighed. “But not today!"
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Trystan x Carolina | Crimes of Passion
They couldn't stop laughing as they stumbled into her room, Carolina knocking things over as she felt around clumsily for the light.
"I can't believe we're going to do this," she laughed. "I just meant it as a joke."
"Are you kidding?" Trystan beamed so brightly, there was almost no need for that light. He grabbed two pens from Carolina's desk and rushed to take the seat by her side. "This is inspired! It's brilliant! I'm devastated that I hadn't heard of this sooner!"
"Yeah," she winked seductively, leaning in to caress his cheek with a smile. "But if you had learned of it sooner, then you wouldn't get to do it for the first time with me."
"Yes, and while this is a very unique of losing our virginity together, and I, for one, cannot wait! Now! Let's get to it!"
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Ethan x Kaycee | Open Heart
Ethan was still putting away dishes in the kitchen when Kaycee tucked herself under a blanket on the couch, a large glass of wine at her side, and an enormous bowl of popcorn on her lap. With eyes full of wonder and a childlike grin, it was hard to imagine she could be more excited.
Catching a glimpse of her as put the last plate in the cupboard, Ethan had to chuckle. He had probably used the word "endearing" ten times in his life before he met Kaycee MacClennan, but since he had, he swore he used it ten times a day. But no matter how enchanting she was, he still needed the large tumbler of Scotch he poured to get through this night.
Kaycee tapped the space next to her, eager to have him at her side, and he quickly complied. Wrapping his arm around her, he let out a long sigh.
"Are you ready?" she gushed.
He placed a kiss atop her head and thought he'd give it just one more shot. "Does that mean I have a choice?"
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Tobias x Casey | Open Heart
The room looked straight out of a movie, awash in a soft, golden glow. Tobias had meticulously picked each and every candle scattered around them; only Casey's absolute favorites would do. After lighting the last one, he turned his attention to her, eyes full of desire.
He bridged the space between them, and his hands slid over the soft curves he adored so much. Casey held him close, a gentle giggle escaping her as he peppered her with kisses. Her laughter, combined with the jasmine scent that was hers and hers alone, left him lightheaded; the woman left him drunk more than wine ever could.
"What are you doing?" She laughed.
"What does it look like? Any objections?"
"No, Dr. Carrick, not a single one."
Running a hand through her hair, he sat back with a smile. "You know, you're the best wife I've ever had."
"Oh, really," she teased with a raised brow. "I was under the assumption I was your only wife unless you have a whopper of a secret you need to share."
"Well, now that you mention it..."
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Zoe Rivera (MC) | Wake the Dead
She wasn't sure if it was day or night, and right now, she didn't care. No one was present to hear her soft groaning as she shifted to her side, and once again, she was grateful. Zoe Rivera was self-aware enough to know that she made a lousy patient, and everyone was wise to leave her alone.
Then the creaking of her bedroom door had her rethinking her friend's judgment. Waking her up just as she was about to return to a semin-blissful slumber? Oh, there had better be a good reason for this.
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haeunoo · 2 years ago
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YOU GIVE ME THE FEELS
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your fav x gn! reader (ゝ。∂)
cw: valentines 😒, kisses ^3^, ANNIVERSARYS !!, marriage, lovey dovey yucky stuff..
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—
YOUR FAV who asks you out on valentines! To make sure your anniversary is on valentines! (ÂŽ,,>ω<,,`)♡
YOUR FAV who makes your first kiss on valentine’s day (a year into the relationship) so you can celebrate your 1 one year anniversary and your first kiss anniversary on the day of love.
YOUR FAV who proposes to you ON VALENTINES (you get the point atp) and they know that you can start seeing the pattern now, but they find it so cute.
YOUR FAV who NEEDS to have your wedding planned on valentines, and forces everyone to come no matter what their plans were
BONUS: they never get you on gift on valentines, buys you gifts for each anniversary !
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nikaranikita · 2 years ago
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Fluffy, romantic (yet naughty and spicy too)
CHAPTER 3 is on đŸ”„đŸ†đŸ˜Ž enjoy
Chapters: 3/7 FINN/POE DAMERON Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Christmas in The Forests Valentine Sequel, BB-8 is a fox, Spicy Fluff, Developing Relationship, Ex-boyfriends talks, Urban Adventure, A bit of filth, A bit of heaviness, a lot of fun, City time, Making Out, Morning Cuddles, Rey is a Valentine's Loon, a little bit of dirty talk, a lot of teasing, handjob, Fooling around in a public place, Smut Summary:
Sometimes, it is not the first 'I love you' that is the hardest one to say.
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mrs-sharp · 9 months ago
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Everytime you realise your favourite fictional character is... fictional.
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blackenedsnow · 1 month ago
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I was the one who made reader have a you her sibling they take care of, just saying, it was so amazing. I love it:D. I have another request. This one was a bit weird and rushed cause like I'm a sleepover with two of my cousins so
Billy Loomis, Bubba Sawyer, Art the Clown, Stu Matcher, Thomas Hewitt, Jason, Michael, Billy Lenz, Pinhead, Tiffany (if you write for her) Charles/Chucky, Bo, Vincent, Lester, Brahms. If you want to add more or get rid of some it's okay. But you can either have it platonic of them being a younger sibling or child (adopted or not) going to a sleepover. Maybe sneaking out to it. They go to find out where they are and find them in a house and they are being loud, laughing, and just being kids
If you don't do platonic (cause I can't remember if you do or don't) then do it romantically and just like the same thing. You can change things if you that helps and sorry about this. But, the request I first made and you did, it was a great and made me smile cause I didn't expect it so thanks for that
slashers reactions to their younger sibling reader sneaking out to a sleepover ; headcanons
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WARNING: None
PAIRING: Billy Loomis & Sibling! Reader, Bubba Sawyer & Sibling! Reader, Art the Clown & Sibling! Reader, Stu Macher & Sibling! Reader, Thomas Hewitt & Sibling! Reader, Jason Voorhees & Sibling! Reader, Michael Myers & Sibling! Reader, Billy Lenz & Sibling! Reader, Pinhead & Sibling! Reader, Tiffany Valentine & Sibling! Reader, Charles Lee Ray/Chucky & Sibling! Reader, Bo Sinclair & Sibling! Reader, Vincent Sinclair & Sibling! Reader, Lester Sinclair & Sibling! Reader, Brahms Heelshire & Sibling! Reader
NOTE: Hope you enjoyed this! I could imagine so many of them struggling to hold back but ultimately wanting to let you just be a kid and have fun. Thank you so much for this request; it was a blast to write!
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BILLY LOOMIS
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You’ve managed to sneak out quietly, thinking Billy won’t notice because he’s engrossed in a movie marathon.
But within half an hour, he realizes you’re gone and his “big sibling” instincts kick in.
He shows up at the house with that intense, unblinking stare that could stop anyone mid-laugh.
Who do you think you are, sneaking out like this?
He’s relieved (and slightly embarrassed) to see you just goofing off with friends.
Pretends to be unimpressed when you’re caught off guard.
He’ll let you stay—for now—
With the most deadpan expression, muttering,
“You could’ve just told me.”
But he’s not about to let you get away with it.
Once you’re back home, he’s the silent-but-deadly type. Just know you’re grounded.
BUBBA SAWYER
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Bubba panics the minute he realizes you’re gone, running through the house and making distressed sounds as he searches for you.
He's going to family members and pointing to where your things should be.
The whole family tries to calm him down, but he’s inconsolable until he finds a clue leading him to the sleepover house.
When he tracks you down, he’s so relieved he doesn’t know what to do.
Seeing you safe and having fun brings tears to his eyes.
He’ll probably sit outside the house, just quietly waiting for you to finish.
If you notice him, he might wave shyly or even try to make himself “invisible.”
ART THE CLOWN
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Oh, Art knows you’ve snuck out, and he’s amused.
He’s both delighted to have a reason to check in and irritated that you thought you could get away with this.
Appears at the sleepover out of nowhere, scaring the life out of anyone who notices him lurking outside.
Watches silently, only making himself known to you with that twisted grin of his, waving as if to say, “Caught you!”
Doesn't stop you from having fun but does make it clear that he knows—and will remember.
Expect creepy antics as payback when you get home.
STU MACHER
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Stu probably wasn’t paying enough attention to notice you sneaking out right away, but once he does..
He's MAD.
Once he finds the house, he’s too tempted not to sneak around and scare the shit out of all of you.
Might throw a pebble at the window to get your attention and then give you a dramatic pout, mouthing,
“How could you leave me out?”
When you get home, he’ll give you a long (and playful) guilt trip about how you left him to "suffer".
THOMAS HEWITT
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Notices you’re missing right away.
Thomas doesn’t like you out of his sight, so he feels uneasy, imagining the worst.
He follows you quietly, not wanting to interrupt.
When he spots you through the window, safe and laughing, he stops, taking a deep breath of relief.
Watches you with a slight smile, just relieved to see you having fun.
He’s happy that you’re being a normal kid and knows better than to interrupt that.
Will probably leave you alone and probably won't bring it up, ever.
He would definitely prefer if you let him know though.
JASON VOORHEES
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Jason’s heart drops when he notices you’re not in your usual spot, and he’s anxious as he starts tracking you down.
He’s relieved to see you laughing and safe with friends.
Stays outside or hidden, keeping a protective eye.
He doesn’t want to interrupt but also doesn’t want anything sneaking up on you.
Plus, who knows if these kids don't mean any harm?
Might leave little signs outside (like stacked stones) to let you know he was there, just to make sure you’re safe.
MICHAEL MYERS
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He’s annoyed.
Why would you leave his protection?
Michael doesn’t even try to blend in; he’s the shadow at the window.
Once you see his white mask peeking in, you know the jig is up.
He won’t cause a scene, but he just stares until you get the message.
When you sneak out to meet him, he’ll give you a tiny “you-know-better” look, but he’s not mad—he just wants you safe.
Doesn’t reveal himself to anyone else, but he’ll stay there the entire time.
When you get home, expect a long, silent stare, reminding you that you’re not as sneaky as you think.
BILLY LENZ
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He notices right away.
Billy has a keen eye for your whereabouts, and he’s instantly on the move, tracking you down.
Peers through the window, watching you play with a pout.
He feels oddly betrayed but finds your happiness too endearing to be angry.
He won’t disrupt the fun, but you might catch a glimpse of him outside, holding his hands up in an “I’m watching you” gesture.
When you get home, he’ll tease you nonstop about “abandoning him.”
PINHEAD
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This is completely out of the ordinary, and he is both confused and a bit annoyed that you snuck out without informing him.
Appears in his signature, intimidating way, silently observing from outside.
He finds the concept of a “sleepover” curious.
He’s more contemplative about it, watching as if studying some strange new human ritual.
He waits until you’re ready to return and then accompanies you back without a word.
You can expect a very stern lecture when you get home about the importance of communication

TIFFANY VALENTINE
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She realizes quickly that you’re gone and storms out to find you, though her anger’s more worried than anything.
When she spots you through the window, laughing and having fun, her irritation fades into a soft smile.
She won’t interrupt, just stands outside and watches for a bit.
She loves seeing you like this, happy and unbothered.
When you get back, she’ll playfully scold you but then pull you into a hug, reminding you to tell her next time.
CHUCKY (CHARLES LEE RAY)
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Chucky’s annoyed at first, muttering to himself,
“What does this kid think they’re doing?”
He’s irritated you’d sneak off, especially without his “permission,” and tracks you down, grumbling the entire way.
When he finds you, he feels an odd mix of pride and annoyance.
He likes your independence but also doesn’t like feeling “left out.”
Gives you a wicked grin through the window, mouthing, “We’re talking later.”
He’ll grumble that “next time, you should let him know,” but he’s proud you managed to sneak out without him noticing.
BO SINCLAIR
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Bo is mad and lets you know it.
He’s worried you’re in danger, and when he finds you, he’s that overprotective brother with his arms crossed.
He pulls you aside, lecturing you on safety and probably embarrassing you in front of your friends.
But once he knows you’re okay, he lets up a bit and waits outside for you, a little softer.
At home, he pretends he’s still mad but lets you off the hook pretty easily.
VINCENT SINCLAIR
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Vincent’s used to you being close by, so when you’re not there, he’s unnerved and worried.
Tracks you down and watches quietly, almost touched to see you carefree with your friends.
Leaves a little note or sketch somewhere you’ll find it later, a reminder of his presence even when you’re far away.
He’s quiet when you get home, but there’s a warmth to his gaze.
You should him next time..
LESTER SINCLAIR
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Lester’s both amused and concerned when he finds you missing.
He tracks you down quickly, not one for letting you go unguarded.
When he finds you through the window, he watches with a fond smile, chuckling at your carefree attitude.
Might knock on the door and make up an excuse to check on you if you notice him, but he’ll mostly just let you have your fun.
Gives you a playful nudge and a “don’t think you’re getting away that easy next time” when you get back.
BRAHMS HEELSHIRE
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Brahms does not take this well, feeling abandoned and maybe a bit betrayed.
When he tracks you down, he watches from the shadows, arms crossed, grumpy but protective.
Might stare until you feel his gaze and look over at him, just so you know he found you.
When you return, expect a big fuss, with Brahms grumbling about how much he “suffered” in your absence.
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cupcakeinat0r · 11 months ago
Text
<3 Valentine’s Breakfast w/ DadBod!Miguel <3
[NSFW]
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With the sun rays flowing in through the curtains, your eyes flutter open, your blurred vision focusing in on the gorgeous man lying on top of you. This is usually how it is. You start the night laying on his hairy and soft chest, but after tossing and turning through the night, you two never failed to end up in this position. It sort of just happens. You believe it’s Miguel’s need to protect you in every sense of the word, so he just absentmindedly engulfs you in his sleep.
Miguel was a big man. In every way. It was sort of hard to breathe when he was on you like this.
But that was more than ok. In fact, you thrived on the feeling of all his body weight on yours, his face snuggled deep into the crook of your neck and his Herculean arms wrapped around you, not too tight, but just enough so that you weren’t going anywhere. And yes, his snoring was loud, but you learned to love it, it becoming the music to your ears on mornings like this.
It only takes you a few seconds for it to click.
It’s Valentine’s Day.
You smile to yourself, excited about all things you have planned for Miguel. But first
 to figure out how the hell you were gonna get Gigantor off of you.
Unable to move, your head isolated, you look around for ideas. With your free hand, you reach for the blanket, slowly pulling it off of him in hopes he’ll move off of you to wrap himself in it again. Your idea succeeds, and he frees you just enough for you to sneak off the bed.
In the most cautious way humanely possible, you sneak out of the room (not before you softly kiss his forehead) and into the kitchen. You weren’t too worried, though. Miguel didn’t get to sleep in a lot like this due to his work, but when he did, not even a geographical disaster could wake him. You were safe.
You start listing in your head all the things you remembered you wanted to make him.
Your hands were ace in the kitchen. Everything you made, Miguel loved. One of his favorite parts of the day was coming home after a long day of work and into the arms of his cute sweet little housewife, a plate of delicious warm food already ready for him on the table. It’s kinda funny; it’s you he blames for his weight gain, but you always reply with how much you absolutely love him that way, accompanied by a kiss and a playful smack to his juicy butt (which has also gotten larger, props to you).
You slave away in the kitchen, making sure everything was perfect, even down to exacting the edges of your heart-shaped pancakes, which matched the heart-shaped strawberry slices.
You go to check on the sleeping giant. He’s still knocked out thankfully, except he’s on his back now, hugging a pillow (thinking it’s you no doubt). Aw.
You notice that the blanket wasn’t on him anymore, which allowed you a beautiful view.
His dark wavy hair sprinkled with hints of gray tussled from his sleep. His 5 o'clock shadow framing his perfect, dark, plump lips. His thick neck, chest and arms, peppered with dark hair as well, resting beautifully. His soft midsection, rising and falling with each dad snore. Near his happy trail was a prominent tent, the print of his huge cock tightening his briefs. You bit your bottom lip at his morning wood. God, this man was too perfect for his own good. You could feel yourself salivate as you remind yourself of all the other things you had to get to like decorations or lighting the candles or the rose petals

It doesn’t take much for you to give into your urges. He won’t miss the candles or any decorations anyways

He’ll appreciate what you’re about to do way more.
You silently climb onto the foot of the bed, your face dangerously close to the bulge. You give it a small caress, your hands gently molding around the shaft on top of the fabric of his boxers. You look up when you evoke a barely audible groan from Miguel, who’s still asleep.
You apply just a little more pressure in your next caress, this time making his dick twitch and his hips faintly buck up into your hand, his instinctive neediness signaling you to proceed with your lustful endeavor.
You then lift the band of his boxers, his completely hardened cock immediately springing up. You have to literally suck in your lips to muffle a moan.
Your eyes drink in his perfectly shaped bush at the end of his delicious happy trail, the pumped veins going up his shaft, the singular drop of pre-cum already running down, and finally his fat tip. He was perfect.
You use the juice already there as lubricant, slowly stroking his dick, the other hand on his thick, hairy thigh for support.
You start to feel Miguel‘s thighs contract and hips slightly bucking up some more, little grunts escaping his lips. His arms tense up as well, his muscles clenching around the poor pillow.
His small, slow thrusts drove you crazy, not able to wait any longer to put your mouth to use. You test the waters by giving his tip soft licks, swirling your tongue on it in lazy, annoyingly slow circles.
This grants you a few quiet hums from him, his belly and round pecs rising and falling faster, his body telling you to keep going for him.
Faint ‘Ffuuuckkk’s and ‘Mmm’s were sighed in his sleep, brows furrowed, lips in a pout; signs that you were doing amazing.
You then take him in completely, hollowing out your mouth for him as much as you possibly can, because as mentioned before, this man is big.
You bob your head slowly a few times. It’s when you pull him out with a pop! and start treating it like your own popsicle does his eyes finally slowly open, his lips curling when he looks down at his now very cock drunk girlfriend with a satisfied smirk. His chuckle is low and silk-like, his morning voice making your cunt clench around nothing.
“Well,” his breathing remains labored, his jaw hanging open, “Good morning to you too, Mamita
 Mmfuck.”
He says as you maintain eye contact, your lips wrapped around his long and thick member, tongue tracing along a vein. You pull away with a wet smack before saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy”, in the most sing song tone of voice.
Miguel tuts at your adorable yet seductive response, “ay, beba, so thoughtful n’ good to me
do that again...” he pleads.
“Like this, Daddy?” You ask, lapping your tongue over his tip just the way he likes it.
“Oh-oh fuck
 si, just like that, mamita, así, goood girllll.” his head falls back against the headboard for a moment to sigh before looking back down at you again, seeing his balls in your mouth as your thumb works on his sensitive tip almost making him instantly burst.
You know he’s getting close when he starts panting, propping himself on his elbows and reaching a hand out to your scalp (it practically covers your entire head), gently applying pressure now that he’s in your mouth again. “Aw shit
. I’m close, mama, almost there
 fuck, takin’ my fat cock so well, princesa
” He mutters apologies and thank you’s as he relentlessly rams into your mouth, his bush managing to meet the tip of your nose almost every time. He growls as he starts greedily thrusting his hips, face fucking his release into you.
You take your sweet time pulling him out of lips, making sure to get every single drop, your eyes on his the entire time. Once he’s out of your mouth, he sees you swallow, “Open,” and you do as he asks, “diablo, mami, eres tan sucia.” You begin to sit up, wiping your mouth, “Only for you, baby
 C'mon, there’s some things in the kitchen for yo-“
“Oye, whoa whoa whoa,” He grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the bed and pulls you toward himself, “I didn’t say we were finished, did I?”
You fall into the bed again, Miguel guiding your hips onto his lap as he sloppily makes out with you, his tongue practically down your throat. “I’m not done with you yet, nena,” he mumbles against your lips.
He lays back down on the bed, “C’mere. Sientate.” He brings his hands up to his face motioning for you to sit on your throne.
You wince, now realizing you forgot that you had meant to shave last night.
“Babe, noooo wait... I haven’t shaved
”
Miguel furrows his brows, a confused scowl on his face.
“Mama. Look me in the face and tell me if I look like I care.” You begin to smile seeing how Miguel was starting to look genuinely mad at you for saying such a ridiculous thing.
“Now, I said sientate. I’m hungry.” He says sternly.
“You sureee? You really don't have to-”
“I don’t like repeating myself.” He commands. This man wasn’t playing any games. He was starving.
Your smile widens at his insistence. Your boyfriend was a real man.
Placing your hands on his hairy, thick body for support, you scoot your way up to his face, Miguel’s grin getting wider as your wet cunt comes into full view.
“So perfect for me, fuck,” His voice is sweet and tender now, planting a few equally tender kisses on your inner thighs, making sure to show them some love before you squeeze his head between them like a melon. “Te amo mucho, you know that, mama? Wanna make you feel good, beba.”
“Mhm,” You nod, biting your lip as the breath of his voice tickles your womanhood.
If Miguel could, he would just live in between your thighs just like this for all of eternity. His absolute favorite place in the whole world. “N' when I tell you to sit on my face, yo nunca quiero ir ese porqueria, understood?”
His stern tone made both your heart and pussy flutter. “Yessir.”
Your hands use the edge of the headboard as support, tentatively hovering your hips over his face as he showers your inner thighs with loving pecks and nibbles, the smack of his lips making your pussy clench again.
One of his big hands steadies your hips with a tight grip, the other moving your panties aside to reveal your unshaven lips.
“Prettiest pussy ever
. y todo es mio. Fuck, you’re so wet, mamita, did I do that?” He speaks mockingly.
You sigh when his lips kiss your clit, his tongue following shortly after by flicking it a couple times. You hear him grunt beneath you after having to lift his head off the bed to reach your hole.
"Baby, sit down. All of your body weight." He's short with his words. It sounds more like an order than a request.
"But Miguel-"
He breathes out, "You're really testing my patience, mama." And with that, his massive hands wrap firmly around your waist and pull you down, a yelp falling from your mouth as he feasts on your sensitive pussy.
Miguel is the definition of a munch. His head movement adds to the stimulation, moving it up and down, side to side; any effort to submerge his face deeper into your folds. His nose, the perfect size and shape that brushes against your clit while he simultaneously slurps and tongue fucks your cunt. The vibrations of his ‘Mmmph’s, the scruff of his face rubbing against your inner thighs, and softly pressing your clit between his tongue and front teeth were the cherry on top.
Your sounds are pornographic as he eats you out. When you're unable to sit up straight anymore due to the immense pleasure, you lean back, hands landing behind you on his soft pecs, pushing into them in an effort to get some kind of break, but Miguel wasn't having it. Plus, he was way stronger than you. There was no escaping him. A small part of you wondered how he was going so long without coming up for air, but you quickly answer your own question when you remember that your man loves to eat, and when he does, he’s like a starved man. Each time you pushed, his grasp only got stronger, but as much as you pushed, you truthfully didn't want him to stop. Ever.
"B-baby, baby
 I- I- c-can't," you cry, unable to speak without stopping mid-sentence to let out a whine, "I'm so close, Daddy, don't stop, please, don't stop, don't stop!" You became a broken record, all sense leaving your body. The only thing on your mind was Miguel's mouth ravishing your weeping cunt. You sat forward again, now tugging on his hair, making him hum further and fueling his hunger. "Mmmph fuck! I won't mama, I won't, don't worry... I'll give you whatever you want," You began to literally ride his face, desperately chasing your climax with his hands slapping against your ass. Miguel was in heaven with this view, bucking his own hips into the air from how perfect you looked like this.
“Mmm
 such a dirty fuckin’ girl you are,” smack, “wakin' me up like this
 ay, que ricoooo, sabe tan dulce,” smack, “puta madre, Puedo vivir de este coño y nada mĂĄs
” both his voice, an octave lower, and the wet, sucking sounds of his mouth helped uncoil the knot in your stomach, bursting on his handsome face.
Your hips stutter and your jaw falls open when you cum, Miguel drinking in your juices as if he’s been stranded on the Sahara for weeks. You could’ve split his skull into two, that’s how hard you pressed your thighs together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Miguel finally lets you go, allowing you to sit on his chest now, both of you catching your breaths. He smirks back up at you, and you roll your eyes, blushing. "awww, mi princesita gets all shy when I make her cum, eh?"
"Leave me aloooneeee." With Miguel’s big hands as support and guidance, he rolls over, so he’s still in between your legs, but you’re now the bottom, and him the top. With your legs now around his waist, He chuckles at you and goes to kiss your flushed cheeks.
Then he goes in for a sweet, romantic kiss on the lips. You feel safe and taken care of while feeling his body weight on you again, his soft tummy against yours and his big muscly arms wrapped securely around you. You can feel his cock twitch against your overstimulated cunt, completely soaked from his second climax from simply eating you out, no doubt. He moves any hair on your face aside, caressing your cheek when he does.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, princesita. Have I told you how much I love you?” He coos, pure adoration in his eyes.
You manage a soft, tired smile, “Every day. I love you, too.” you chuckle, “Oh! I made you breakfast! You must be hungry, baby
” you say, as you start getting up.
He gently stops you, and you lay back down.
“I am
 but not for food.”
Safe to say the feast you prepared was cold by the time y’all got to the kitchen<3
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Hope u liked it <3 It's a bit longer but I've been thinking alottttt about this tee hee!!!
This is a culmination of my thots and the thots of some of my hot moots, so Tysm @mybvalentine @gltzpzy for the ideas <3
Happy Valentine’s season, my loves!!! Wishing everyone not only a day but a whole new year of love. Not just romantic love, but also the love of your friends, family, and above all, the love for yourself <3
Speak to yourself kindly, treat your heart nicely, and consume all the chocolate!!!! You deserve ittt!!!
P.s. n if u don’t have a Valentine’s, I’ll happily be urs đŸ€­ MWAH!
- Cupcake xoxo
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!
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rafeandonlyrafe · 10 months ago
Text
pink roses
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words: 3.1k
warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, female receiving oral, CHEATING!, ex!rafe, mentions of violence and drinking, its valentines day during the second part of the fic :)
you moved on. thats what you tell everyone. absolutely over rafe, even got a new boyfriend. 
you definitely don’t think of your ex every time you kiss him or hold his hand. definitely don’t think of rafe when your new man is between your legs.
“hey baby.” darren says, giving you a tight hug after you open the door, not cradling your body against his like rafe used to.
“hi.” you smile, letting him into your house. “just give me like five minutes to touch up my makeup then we can head up.” “okay.” darren nods. you frown as you walk up the stairs, knowing its not the response rafe would have given you. he would have said that you already look perfect, not needing to touch anything up (though you would absolutely still reapply blush and swipe on some more lipgloss).
you don’t even feel like going to a party tonight, only going because darren has some friends that he wants you to meet. truthfully, you know you’re using darren. you know that he’s just a fling to get over rafe, and you feel guilty when he clearly values you and wants to show you off.
“ready!” you call as your heels click down the stairs.
“perfect.” darren smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back as he guides you out to his car, having to tug your dress down to not reveal yourself as you lower into the passenger side of his sedan.
“where is this party at anyways?” you ask, inspecting your fingernails, freshly painted in a lightly shimmery pink.
“topper thorton.” darren says. he must see your face go pale. “why, do you know him?”
“uh, yeah.” you pick at a nonexistent thread on your skirt. “he's my exes friend. you know, rafe. the one everyone warned you about.”
you chose to rebound with darren because he had just moved to town, wouldn't be scared into silence from rafes reputation alone.
“ah, damn.” darren says, but doesn't ask if you still want to attend. you know you're going to see rafe, and you're honestly not sure if you can see him touching other girls.
you are quiet until you get to the party, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as darren leads you inside, the music bounding out of the speakers, so loud it almost shakes the house.
“y/n!” toppers eyes are wide when he spots you. “didn't expect to see you here.”
“yeah
” you suddenly feel awkward and insecure in your dress, tugging the hem lower.
“rafe is um
 rafe is on the patio. i would avoid him if i were you. he's
 he's not the same since the breakup.” topper nods to you before walking away. 
“you said this rafe guy broke up with you, right?” darren asks.
“yeah.” you nod, feeling like you can't form any other word.
“then why does he care? who cares if he sees you? im not letting some random guy stop me from going where i want with my girlfriend, come on.” darren grabs your hand, tugging you towards the back of the house.
“darren, no!” you shout, but he's moving too quickly, the music too loud for him to hear you yell, and before you can grind your feet to a halt, you're out on the patio. your eyes flicker around, trying to pick the familiar face out of the crowd when you suddenly see rafe, his eyes already bouring into you.
“come on, let's dance baby!” darren says, your gaze fixed on rafe as darren moves behind you, grinding into your bum. you can't move, stuck in the power of his blue eyes.
“do you not like this song?” darren asks, having to shout into your ear as someone turns the music up impossibly louder.
“i told you, my ex.” you say, line of sight being broken by dancing bodies, finally allowing you to take a deep breath and move, turning to face darren.
“what? you not over him or something?” darren asks, his expression suddenly turning a mix of anger and disappointment.
“no!” you echo what you tell everyone. “no, it's just the first time ive seen him since the break up. it's just
 weird.”
“okay.” darren says, but you can tell by his tone that he's going to bring it up later, and it's not really the end of the conversation, just for now.
“shit, there's my boys!” darren's expression quickly changes. you watch as he daps up two guys, who he then introduces to you, but you don't even hear their names, barely able to nod and smile, putting on a pretty face while your mind is other where. you know that's all you're truly there for anyways, a nice grin and tight dress for darren to flaunt.
he leads you back inside and away from the loud speakers so he can sit and chat with his friends. your eyes continually scan the room and the entryways, waiting to see those blue eyes and sandy blond hair.
“darren, baby, im gonna go use the bathroom.” you tell him as he takes a sip of his beer. you just need to move, feeling like a sitting duck just waiting for a predator to strike.
“alright.” darren literally waves you off, too enticed by the conversation his friend, who you thinks name is matt, or maybe mark. miles? 
you stand up, having memorized the layout of toppers house from parties with rafe. you know the most private bathroom is upstairs and inside of one of the tucked away guest room, a guest room rafe often took you to. 
you push past people to get to the stairs, dodging couples making out on the steps as you make your way up. you sigh when you finally get the guest bedroom door closed behind you, glad to be alone and somewhere somewhat quiet compared to the sensory overload of the rest of the house. 
you turn towards the room, ready to head towards the bathroom door when you see a slight movement in the shadow. you reach behind you for the light switch, feeling across the wall, sure that your eyes are just playing tricks on you, but as the ceiling light illuminates the room, you come face to face with the one man you didn't want to see.
“rafe, i-” you cut yourself off. you don't know what to say, have no excuse. a small part of you knows you said you had to use the bathroom just to get back into this room, look at the bed that rafe took you on so many times.
“he's not as tall as me.” rafe says. “you hate guys with that color hair.”
you urge your hand to reach for the doorknob and flee, but rafes deep voice keeps you captive.
“i would never ignore you like he does in favor of stupid fucking friends.” damn, so rafe was watching, and you couldnt even tell, probably too far in your own head.
“and im sure he doesn't fuck you like i do.” rafe steps towards you, having to round the bed from where he was leaning against the corner of the wall. “tell me y/n
 does he make you cum as much as i do?”
“did.” you manage to bite out. “in case you forgot, you broke up with me. not the other way around.”
“i didn't expect you to settle for such trash.” rafe is now only feet away. he smirks as his eyes glide down your body and tight dress before landing back on your face. “you look stressed, baby. he's not giving it as good as me at all.”
rafe sighs like he truly cares about the kind of service you're getting in the bedroom.
“he's fine.” you argue back, the best defense you can manage. rafe was always able to tell when you were lying.
“so if i offer to eat you out right now, you'd say no? don't want my tongue, baby?”
“this isn’t fair, rafe.” you say bluntly. “you can’t break up with me only to tease me like this.” “get on the bed, underwear off.” rafe simply commands. your body moves before your mind does, still trained to his instructions. and once your underwear is on the floor, you figure theres no point in stopping now.
you do think briefly to darren, chatting innocently away with his friends downstairs, not a clue that your ex is about to go down on you, but when rafe lays between your thighs, your thoughts couldn’t be farther from darren.
“the most gorgeous pussy i’ve ever seen.” rafe says, pushing your dress further up your body. “missed her so much.”
rafe leans forward, tongue instantly zeroing in on your clit, switching between rubbing with the tip of his tongue and lapping over it in broad strokes.
“oh fuck!” you moan out, head pressing back into the pillow, sure to ruin your perfect hair.
“little bit louder and your new boyfriend might hear you.” rafe smirks before letting his tongue explore your cunt, even slurping at your juices.
“shut up, you’re so fucking unfair.” you groan, but reach down to grip his hair and push his face further into your pussy.
rafe shows you just how skilled he is with his mouth. there really is no comparison to darren, who you swear things your left lip is your clit.
rafe focuses in on your entrance, tongue sweeping in tighter and tighter circles until it juts forward into your hole, taking a moment to appreciate being back inside your tight heat before he begins to thrust his tongue, his thumb moving to rub your clit.
“tell me i’m better.” rafe says, barely pulling away to speak the words. “no.” you shake your head. you shouldn’t give rafe the satisfaction of admitting it, as if your moans aren’t evident enough.
“tell me or i’ll stop right now. won’t make you cum.” 
“fine.” you close your eyes, as if somehow not seeing rafe makes it less like you’re cheating. “you’re better than him. just, please.” 
you’re not above begging. you wish you could say that you were better than that, better than getting into bed with your ex the first time you see him.
“there’s my good girl.” rafe purrs out in his oh so seductive voice. he resumes movement of his thumb, rubbing you just the way you like, knowing it brings you to the edge quickly as his tongue continues to thrust inside of you.
“oh, oh my god! rafe!” you shout his name as his thumb quickens until it’s all too much, a flood of wetness gushing out as your back arches off the bed, hands gripping at the duvet. rafe continues his movements as your high works its way through your body until the snap of sensitivity hits and you have to shove his hand away.
you blink your eyes open, vision slightly blurry as you look down at rafe between your legs, face going pale when you realize that you didn’t just cum, but squirted, leaving rafes face dripping.
“holy shit, it really has been a long time since you came if you’re squirting like that.” rafe chuckles, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, only for his tongue to dart out and lick the juices off his skin.
“you-you-” realization comes flooding back of what you just did. you may know that you’re using darren, but you never intended it to go as far as to cheat on him.
“i only did what you wanted me too. even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself.” rafe moves up to a kneeling position, his cock clearly straining against his pants. “want me to fuck you now baby? i know you’ve missed this big dick.”
“no!” you snap your thighs together, mind much clearer now that you’ve gotten your orgasm. “no, i-i have a boyfriend!”
“go downstairs and break up with him and then come back up here and let me hit.” rafe says, tapping your hip to get you moving. 
“i am going downstairs.” you say, swinging your legs off the bed. “but it’s because this was a mistake.” you grab your underwear off the floor and put them back on before attempting to readjust your dress and hair to acceptable levels, well aware that darren must be wondering where you are by now, having been gone for so long.
“baby-” rafe tries to stop you, but you’re already out the door. 
--
“oh baby, this is so sweet!” you plaster on a fake smile. you were easily able to explain to darren what happened at the party a few weeks ago. you got caught up talking with some old friends and the time slipped away from you. not completely a lie.
you’ve avoided being out in public at all for fear of seeing rafe. you’ve even manage to banish most thoughts of him. most
 except for when he forces his way back into your mind when your fingers are in between your legs, finishing yourself off after darren had gone to sleep next to you.
“a beautiful red rose for my valentine.” darren gives you a kiss on the cheek as you smile at the rose. it’s a nice gesture, it is valentines day after all and he is your boyfriend, but you just don’t feel in the spirit of the holiday, mostly because you aren’t in love and are just waiting for the right moment to break up.
you pull out your phone, opening up your instagram and snapping a photo of you holding the red rose, quickly uploading it to your story.
“what else do you have planned for today?” you ask darren, but his face quickly grows pale and you realize he doesn’t have anything else planned, thinking a singular red rose was all he needed to please you.
“we could go to the park later.” he recovers quickly. “have a nice picnic.”
“okay, sounds good.” you nod. “i’m gonna go put this in water.”
you flee quickly to the kitchen, leaving your boyfriend sat in your living room. your parents are rarely home, spending all of their time traveling when your dad isn’t working out business deals, and it feels like darren has practically moved in since they’re rarely home, and it’s only causing a bigger divide in your relationship.
you get the rose put in a vase with some fresh water when your phone vibrates from your pocket. you grab it out, eyes widening when you see that rafe has replied to your story.
doesn’t he know you like pink roses?
the doorbell rings, making you drop your phone with a loud clatter onto the countertop.
“i’ll get it!” darren calls out before you can process the sound, suddenly rushing after him as he opens the door to reveal rafe standing on your doorstep, not just one pink rose but an entire armful of them, the largest and most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen.
“who the fuck are you?” darren asks, but rafe looks right past him to where you’re stuck frozen in the foyer.
“i’m giving y/n the valentines day flowers that she deserves.” rafe pushes past darren with ease, transferring the large bouquet into your arms.
“and you’re getting the fuck out.” rafe turns to darren, now blocking him from moving back into the house.
“fuck if i am.” darren laughs. “and she’s my girlfriend.”
“she’s only your girlfriend because i broke up with her knowing she was too good for me and needed to find someone better, but instead she settled for you.” rafe turns his head to look at you, his voice softening. “it’s okay, sweetheart. i don’t blame you.” 
“lets let y/n decide.” darren says, rightly deciding not to fight rafe, being smart for once in his life knowing rafe would easily annihilate him, but wrongly thinking that you would choose him.
“get out.” you say, eyes moving to darren. “get out, darren. i don’t even like red roses.”
“baby-” darren begins to argue, but then rafe surges forward, shoving him out of the door before slamming it in his face.
rafe takes a deep breath before turning to you, looking so small with the roses drowning in your arms.
“i’ve missed you.” rafe moves towards you, his hands cradling your face and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i’m sorry for breaking up with you, princess. thought you could do better.”
“i’m just glad you’re back.” you lean forward, rafe quickly understanding that you’re asking for more kisses as his lips glide over yours, familiar and warm.
“let me carry these for you.” rafe scoops the bouquet out of your arms. “and then you can go ahead and get ready for all the things i have planned for today while i gather your exes shit and make sure he knows to never come back here again.” you giggle and follow rafe, knowing you should feel bad for dragging darren into the mess that is rafe, but you’re just happy that he served as a distraction before rafe came back.
rafe walks up to your room, glad to be back in your house. he realized seeing you with a new guy how much of a mistake he made and knew it had to be corrected.
rafe sets the roses on the bench at the base of your bed before frowning at the bed itself, your side clearly neatly made while the side that used to belong to darren is a mess still, showing a complete disrespect for how you like to keep your belongings. 
“i’m trying to decide between fucking you on the sheets he used to sleep in or taking them outside and burning them.” rafe says, placing his hands on his hips.
“maybe
” you wrap your arm around rafes waist as you bury your head into his back. “we add buying new bedding to your valentines day plans?”
rafe turns around to take you into his arms, eyes soft as he looks down at you. “you’re always gonna be my valentine from now on, baby. i love you.”
you shift your weight to your toes as you lean up to kiss rafe, his mouth slowly moving over yours as you make out, feeling him swell against your lower stomach.
“i don’t think i can wait until after we buy new bedding, baby.” rafe groans.
“well
 i do need to take a shower before we go.” you smirk, walking backwards towards your attached bathroom, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt.
“and you know how much i love to conserve water.” rafe chuckles, following you as your clothes hit the floor.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart
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pascals-doll · 10 months ago
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bed of roses
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ellie williams x reader
đŸ«§ continuation of candy | u dont have to read it since this can be a story on its own!
đŸ«§ TYSM FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE VDAY SPECIAL đŸ„č i hope you cuties enjoy pt 2!!
đŸ«§ thinking about ellie’s strap all day đŸ„Č
đŸ«§ description: smut smut smut, very cute surprise at the end!, valentines day surprise, dom!ellie, sub!reader, reader gets fingered on stairs, fingering (both receiving), strapon!sex (reader recieving), ‘p’ in v sex, panty sniffing (ellie), body worship (reader receiving), power dynamic, back scratching (ellie receiving), finger sucking/gagging, no use of y/n, use of pet names (pretty mama, mama, doll, pretty doll, and babydoll),
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“augh-god! ellie” you moaned out, your hand going to grip the stair-railing as you swore you started seeing clouds.
after completely devouring ellie on the staircase, you guys calmed down momentarily.
catching each other’s breath, sharing soft kisses as ellie tells you how much she loves you.
until she began to kiss your neck which eventually lead to her sucking all over both of your tits as her fingers fuck you relentlessly.
“the prettiest tits in this entire world” ellie utters against one of your tits as the other is messily palmed by ellies hand.
“ellie s’good-augh fuck m’gonna cum!” your moans got louder as the forming of your words got sloppy, not being able to comprehend shit in your fucked-out mind.
“oh the night is just gettin’ started mama” she pulls away from your nipple, smirking at you like she was hell’s #1 sinner.
your mouth goes agape, eyes squeezing shut as your feel ellies fingers fuck you through your orgasm.
ellie’s fingers curling into your pussy causing your back to arch within her lap.
“good mama, thats it. cum all over my fingers” she encourages you, slightly moving your hips along with the movement of her fingers.
ellie craddled you as your orgasm melts you into her embrace, legs completely limp in her lap.
ellie planted the softest kisses on your face and forehead “dont get tired yet, babydoll” she whispers in your ear as she runs her hands through your hair.
once you felt yourself coming back into reality, you lifted your head up from in-between her shoulder “we-we should pick up your poor teddy bear” you state weakly, giving her a soft grin.
“yes, ill get it mama” ellie returns your smile, chuckling sweetly.
ellie helped you up, giving your ass a squeeze through your mini skirt “perfect lil’ass” she states playfully, licking her lips.
“shut up and tell me you love the bear” you tell her, just wanting her to come close to you; missing her warmth.
she continues to walk over to you, stepping up the couple steps of the staircase before you meeting you halfway on them.
she bends down to pick up your bra, not caring much for you shirt.
“i-” ellie begins before stopping to plant kisses all over your face and neck, once again but this time she crouches down slightly; scooping you up.
“fucking love the bear” as she completely takes you into her arms.
you let out a squeal out of slight surprise as ellie scoops you up, using most of her strength. you wrap your arms and legs around her, your mini-skirt riding up.
her hands squeezing your ass as she walks up the stairs.
ellie walks down your shared hallway, you in her grasp as you kiss along her neck and toy with her hair.
you didnt miss each pathway of petals that scattered the wooden floors as you got closer to your shared bedroom.
your heart felt like it was going to palpitate out your chest. your mind couldn’t begin to process how lucky you got.
once ellie arrived into your shared room, she put you down gently “dont turn around yet” she says, moving from infront of you to guide you while also making sure you couldn’t see.
“you can turn around now” the second she says that, you wasted no time turning around.
your jaw immediately dropped to the floor as you see a small light-sign that lights up the words ‘you and i forever’, roses and petals all over the floor and bed, and lastly with 3 different heart-shaped boxes of chocolate.
that wasn’t it, ellie had one more surprise but you were just gonna have to wait.
“you-i-you” you tried to speak, but you could barely form a sentence as ellie yet again, found the way to take the words right ouf your mouth.
“just hold on here, yeah doll?” she asks, kissing your temple softly. you gave her a quick nod before she headed into your shared closet.
while she was in the closet, you took upon yourself to quickly grab your pink silk lingerie robe from your dresser.
you stepped out of your mini-skirt since you were already shirtless; leaving you only in your pink heart design thong.
you put the silk robe on, only covering you from being completely naked since you already basically were.
ellie stepped out of the closet in her sports bra but still having her boxers on.
you were on the bed, you had already put aside all the gifts that were on the bed. you weren’t wasting no time.
“you’re so fuckin’ breathtaking” ellie utters breathlessly. she had to let her eyes take you in from head to toe, wether you were wrapped up like a burrito or completely naked goddess statue; you looked absolutely enchanting every single time.
you could completely entice ellie at any give moment, you had her under your spell with just a look.
“take all of me, ellie” you whimper out, extending your leg to reach out to her as she stalked over to you.
“say it again, doll” ellie’s eyes were engulfed with hunger, getting ready to ravish you. she finally crawls ontop of you.
one hand holding her up as it pushed into the bed and the other one helping you rise your hips. ellie pulled down your thong, bringing it up to her nose.
she took in the smell of your arousal, she could’ve licked your underwear if she wanted too; completely wanting to be taken-over by the smell of your wet cunt.
“take all of me, every single part of me is a part of you.” you devoted yourself to her.
there was no one else that you wanted to be completely one with; ellie felt the exact dsme way.
those words leaving your mouth felt like music to ellie’s ears.
“i fucking love you doll, s’fucking much. till the end of this world.” she begins to passionately ramble as her hands eagerly begin to grope you.
ellies hands began by giving your thighs a soft-squeeze then going up to massage your hips, from there going to fondled your hickied titties; robe slipping to the side.
“mmhpm-so wet for me already” she utters out in a pleased tone as she sees your pussy glisten by your juices as she spread your legs apart.
you bit your lip, feeling impatient. you leaned up slightly to pull her down but she didn’t let you.
“nuh uh doll, you already pleased me enough. be a patient lil’girl” ellie coos, taking one of her hands from your breasts slowly tracing its way down.
ellie’s hand found its way to your dripping pussy, her fingers slightly toying with your hole “please-please” you grind your hip up into her two fingers, she retracts them.
ellie turned to her nightstand, turning away from you momentarily. you were confused but gave her time before questioning it.
when she turned back to you, she turned back around with her blue strap-on.
your mind automatically went nebulous.
“please wha’doll ?” her smirk cause shivers down your spine as she returned to towering over you.
your hands impulsively found their way to her back “fuck me till the sun comes up” you meant it, looking her dead in the eyes as you wrapped your legs around her waist.
“your wish is my command, mama” ellie’s eyes felt like daggers pricking at your skin, you felt such delectation at being at ellie’s mercy.
your back arched into her, your breasts pushing against hers “you can take m’cock doll, y’done it before-it’s okay” she soothes you sensually, her lips going back to wander all over your neck as she pushes your legs up to your stomach.
ellie slightly pulls away, to align her strap with your soaked hole. you lifted your hips up impatiently causing ellie to hold them back down aggressively while slamming herself inside you.
“fuck ellie!” you erotically wailed out her name in such a way, it made ellie want to ruin you even more.
“who can fuck this sweet pussy?” ellie grunts out as her hips snap against your skin “huuagh-you! fuck-only you!” you moan out, pleasure being the only thing known to your senses at the moment.
you felt her strap bumping your cervix slightly as her thrusts got more vigorous “s’good-feels s’good!” your fucked-out babble only becoming amusing to the demon that was your girlfriend in this bloody moment.
“what was that, doll? couldn’t hear ya” ellie smirked out, only fucking into you more ruthlessly before moving one of her hands to rub your clit with delicacy.
“awh god! ellie-puh-ah!” you tried to plead through your tears and overwhelmed moans “shh doll, you’re taking me perfectly” ellie coos, the hand that wasn’t rubbing your clit now went to your face.
she caressed your hot tear-stained cheek, leading her thumb to your slightly agape lips “open these up f’me, pretty doll” ellie tells you, sliding her thumb into your mouth.
the sight of as you took her thumb into your mouth while she was ontop of you, driving herself into you. the way you admired her tattoo, you took the hand that was on the side of the arm she was extending.
you continued to suck softly as you traced the outline of the veins that protruded through her tattoo.
the sight of it all bringing you closer to your orgasm.
she leaned back slightly as you sucked her thumb and oogled her arm, causing the upward angle to bring you pure rapture.
you let out a choked out gutteral moan against her thumb as her hips devilishly work you to your orgasm.
ellie knew how to make you cum not once, but for days.
the way you arched your back, chest inviting her lips to explore.
the way your legs shake as she fucks you relentlessly always; no matter how.
the way she had you calling out like the lyircs to your favorite song.
the way she turned you into a completely utter pornstar.
“ellie! ellie m’close! gonn-ah!” lips removing from her thumb, your lecherous shrieks ringing through the room.
“yeah, pretty mama? you gon’ cum all over this strap?” she groans out, she swore she could cum just of all of this.
you let out quick nods as your nails dragged out slight blood , feeling small droplets fall into your nails.
“your words, use them.” ellie grits out, her hips fuckiing you well through your orgasm “yes! m’gonna cum all over your dick!” your cries were pure melodies to ellies ear.
“i gotchu pretty doll, i gotchu” as her hips drastically halt, going from fash to now deep thrusts.
“ellie! ellie!” you clung to her as you shook through your orgasm.
“there you go, atta girl” ellie praises you as your orgasm waves through you, nothing but whimpers coming from your foggy fucked out mind.
once you calmed down in her embrace, she slowly pulled out her strap that was now covered in your cum.
“lets take a break, mama?” ellie suggests which you agree too pretty quick.
ellie went to the restroom, grabbing a towelette to clean you up and get you a glass of water.
once she came back, you were laying there wirh your robe tied up. you thanked her for the water as she cleaned you up from your juices.
you had went to the restroom after she cleaned you up. you made your way back into your shared room and as you open the door; there she was.
ellie williams.
there she fucking was
on one knee in only her boxers and a sports bra.
“will you marry me?”
the case that held your sparkly engagement ring being held by the woman of your dreams after just getting ruthlessly fucked, yet treated like a queen.
only something this wonder of a woman could do to you.
“yes, fuck yes, yes.”
you ran to her as she stood up, launching yourself into her arms.
you both went to enjoy your bed of roses t’ill sunrise.
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stevie-petey · 10 months ago
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oh, you didn't know?
“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.  “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”
Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 1.6k
Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.
-
Steve has never had the best timing. 
When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died. 
There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face. 
Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”
“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over. 
“Oh my god–”
“He
 He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”
Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped. 
Well fuck. 
“Yes
” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”
You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”
The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit. 
He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not. 
Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.
So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side. 
Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again. 
You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out. 
After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open. 
Steve’s plan was foolproof. 
Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend. 
However, Steve really should’ve known better. 
His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door. 
There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.
“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him. 
You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”
“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. 
“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”
“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”
There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life. 
At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place. 
A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in. 
Then, late January, your birthday came along. 
This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.
You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake. 
Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly. 
Except that isn’t what happened. 
What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in. 
“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face. 
Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”
You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him. 
Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck. 
He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something. 
He’s miserable. 
Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks. 
You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts. 
The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”
Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”
He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind. 
“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear. 
“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”
This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him. 
“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”
Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”
At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”
“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?”
“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”
You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just
 I assumed you meant our relationship?”
Steve blinks. “You
 You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”
“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along. 
God, he is so stupidly in love with you. 
He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist. 
The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of. 
Then, a thought occurs to Steve. 
“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”
“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”
Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.
And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss. 
Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time. 
-
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rosiesrroses · 17 days ago
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Valentines | mv1
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in which max spends valentines day with his girlfriend
paring: max verstappen x fem!reader
warning: fluff (lmk if there's something else!), not proofread (just wrote and then posted)
finished: 08 December 2024
posted: 08 December 2024
word count: 380 words
My love for u is ever lasting, it will last until eternity ends~
third person pov
Y/n knew at the beginning of their relationship that Max wasn't into celebrating Valentine's Day, and although she loved Valentine, she respected him. 
But that didn't stop her from going out with her friends and having a galentines dinner with them. 
Y/n is dressed in a short red dress with little bows on the straps paired with some red Mary Jane’s with bows on the front. 
“How late will you be back, schatje?” Max asked her as she stood in front of the mirror, applying some lipstick. 
“Maybe around 9?” she shrugged, then turned around to face him. “I’ll let you know once we leave,” 
Now entering their living room, she picked up her small purse and her car keys. 
“Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off?” he asked her. 
“I’ll be fine, Max. I promise,” she promised him. 
At the front door, they both bid their goodbyes.
“Be safe, okay?” he asked her. 
“I will,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and then left their shared apartment. 
Once Max made sure she left the building and safely in her car, he put his plan in motion. 
yourusername recently added to their story!
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The sky was now darker, the streetlights were on and Y/n could see couples, young and old, dining in restaurants and celebrating Valentine's Day. 
She smiled sadly, wishing that that were her and Max. But she shook her head at the silly thought. 
She pulled into a parking space in front of the apartment building, sighing as she climbed out of her car and took the elevator.
As she reached their front door, unlocking it and stepping out, she froze seeing the sight in front of her.
Their apartment was filled with beautiful roses and some lit candles, and Max appeared in a suit, holding a bouquet of white and pink tulips. 
She smiled but that quickly turned into a frown.
“I thought you didn’t like Valentines?” she asked as he walked over to her. 
“I don’t, but I like you,” he smiled softly. 
“So, will you be my Valentine?”
yourusername 
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff and others
tagged: maxverstappen 
yourusername thank you to the world’s best valentine
comments on this post have been limited
taglist ~ @linnygirl09
note ~ i didn't know how to end this 😭😭 but i hope you enjoyed reading
masterlist ËšË–đ“ąÖŽà»‹đŸŠąËš
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delphi-shield · 1 year ago
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OLD FOLKS HOME â†Ș age gap hcs
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the people you love & the shit they do that reminds you of the dreaded Gap (tm). characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers no warnings to speak of. remember kids, if you're gonna date people in their 30s and 40s, you're gonna have different cultural contexts and, most likely, different senses of humor.
Leon is eight levels of irony deep. He started doing Old Guy Shit just to mess with you, and now it's all come full circle. 
It turns out he actually likes watching the weather channel. He’s monitoring storms that are miles and miles away from you, pointing out the feeder bands like it’s some kind of sporting event. 
He's genuinely invested in Ice Road Truckers. He asks you to TiVo it for him when he's gone. You do not have TiVo. In fact, you're pretty sure no one still has TiVo. 
Or you were, until Leon once again committed to the bit and got TiVo.
Really, genuinely annoying about old movies, actors, and directors.
”What do you mean you don’t know who Robert Redford is? The Candidate? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? C’mon. He was even in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You’ll know him when you see him.”
At least you get movie dates out of it.
Movie dates that he will pepper with trivia about the film, by the way. You don't need the commentary track. He is the commentary.
I'm so, so sorry about this. đŸ€Ș is his favorite emoji. I know. I'm sorry.
Chris cannot fucking hear. To be honest, I think most of them have some degree of hearing loss - but Chris in particular seems to have very subjective hearing loss.
Yes, you were just having a full-fledged conversation. No, he didn’t hear you ask him to take out the trash. He didn’t forget, he just didn’t hear you. Sorry, you were standing on his right - come on, you know that’s his bad side.
Explains basic technology to you because he’s not sure if you know what it is. Then, in the same breath, crams in so many military acronyms he may as well be reciting the alphabet. Does not explain the acronyms.
Like, yeah, Chris. I know what a landline is. Dial-up internet, too. Now, what the fuck is an ORE?
Have you ever gotten ‘ok’ in response to a nude? You’re about to. Completely demoralizing, by the way.
He didn't know you wanted him to compose a poem dedicated to your beauty, okay? He tries to get better, but winds up sending shit like 'wow 👍'
Does the dad thing where he insists he's not interested in watching what's on TV and then stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the living room, enthralled by the show.
Jill does not understand your music. She will not make an attempt to understand your music. If you see her tapping her foot to the beat, no you do not. She is not interested in expanding her musical horizons.
She only bought you tickets to that concert because she knew you would love it. She only went with you because you’re cute when you’re so into this stuff. She only bought that t-shirt because it would be a good souvenir, and eventually, a good grease rag.
Generalized distrust of social media. Do not show her a tiktok. She will ignore the video and lecture you about data safety. Jill, please. Just watch the fucking cat video.
And then she turns around and opts in to literally everything on the McDonald's app.
If there’s a rewards program, she’s in. Already sold. Didn’t even read the fine print. All that shit she was telling you about how you need to be more careful is right out the window for some free fries.
Anything for the thrill of a good deal. If she had more time on her hands, she would be couponing.
Buys in bulk. No, it doesn't matter if the two of you could not physically eat that much rice. It's cheaper to buy it like this. It's fine. It's good for you.
Gotta stock up on non-perishables, too. You gotta be prepared in case something happens. "Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."
Claire cannot stop shopping from QVC. She's in the kitchen with David. It Takes Two with Mary and Sandra? Wrong. It actually takes three. Mary, Sandra, and Claire.
Infomercials have got her by the throat. You have so many gadgets and gizmos around your home that are just collecting dust.
Gets wine drunk and goes online shopping. Legitimately does not remember what she’s bought.
Absolutely will not let you open the packages. (“Some of this stuff could be for you, you know.” “Claire, last time it was a 10,000 count package of googly eyes.” “And I used all 10,000. You still haven’t found them all.”)
Uses every piece of technology until it’s about to fall apart. Absolutely not interested in having the latest and greatest. She’s one of those people who insists that as long as her phone can make calls and send texts, she doesn’t need a new one.
Speaking of texts. Somehow, she got it into her head that a read receipt is equivalent to a reply. She doesn't get what the problem is. You know she saw your text. Why does she have to reply?
Genuinely doesn't mean anything malicious by it - but also, if you did that to her, you would never hear the end of it.
Rebecca legitimately has facebook humor. They all have some degree of facebook humor, but she's got it the worst. 
Will blow up your notifications tagging you in shit that is just straight up not funny. I’m talking full on tagging you with “😂😂😂”
Unironically sent you a minion meme once.
It's not that she's disconnected. She teaches undergrads. She knows what’s in, even if it’s only from the periphery. It’s just that she doesn’t care. She has no interest in keeping up with trends just for the sake of it. She’s so used to being the youngest person in the room and having to keep up expectations that she just absolutely does not care anymore. She's glad she's not one of the kids anymore.
If it made her laugh it made her laugh, her enjoyment isn’t shackled by feelings of shame!!
If you have a group chat on any platform with your friends please invite her. She's just happy to be included. She'll make a discord if she has to, and she'll brag about it to her students.
Yeah, she says pupper and doggo. She does. Look at her.
1K notes · View notes
bloodcasket · 1 year ago
Text
“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ☟
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PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!
WORD COUNT: 7.4K+
DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.
AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.
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The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.
They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.
It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.
A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.
It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.
Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.
The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.
It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.
It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.
“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.
The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.
Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.
Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.
‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.
“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.
“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.
Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.
Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.
Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.
You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.
To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?
Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.
“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.
Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.
Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.
Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.
One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.
“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.
Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.
She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.
You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.
Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two
maybe three).
You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.
Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.
You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.
‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.
“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”
An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.
“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.
“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.
The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.
You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.
“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.
“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.
“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.
“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.
“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.
“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.
“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.
“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.
Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.
“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.
‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’
Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.
The ride to her apartment.
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Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.
You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.
The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.
After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.
She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.
With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.
“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.
“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.
She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.
“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.
She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.
“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.
You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.
Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.
What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.
“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.
“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.
“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.
“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just
still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.
“How is it with, um
you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.
“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”
The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.
Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.
“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”
Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.
“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.
Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.
“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”
You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.
“No, I”-
Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.
“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.
She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.
Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.
“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.
You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.
“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”
The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.
The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.
Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.
“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”
But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”
And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.
With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.
Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.
Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.
Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.
“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.
She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.
“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.
You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.
“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.
“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.
She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.
“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.
A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once
then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.
Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.
“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”
“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.
“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.
But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.
“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.
“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.
You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.
“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.
Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.
“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.
Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.
“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”
She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.
“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.
The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.
A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.
“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”
As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.
Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.
“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”
Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.
Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.
The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.
“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.
“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.
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sebastianlynx · 4 days ago
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aliya will
@aliyawill
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chadfallout76podcast · 9 months ago
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FALLOUT 4:
"DEATH SHROUD" SERIES UPDATE!
Check out the AMAZING artwork tumblr artist @rad-roche did for our second installment in the Death Shroud! series. This story is titled, "The Cat's Paw", and will see an even BIGGER cast of voice actors returning to reprise their roles this May to benefit Wes Johnson's VoiceAPalooza charity drive for the Alzheimer's Association.
Please note that the voice cast list may change as more people confirm, so this is likely NOT the final art.
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