#his love language is words of sass

[jamminvroomvroom]

die for you.

ln x driver!reader

in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…

this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3

loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood

8.3k words (oop)

it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.

the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.

out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.

lando fucking norris.

what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.

you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.

you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.

“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.

george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.

“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.

“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.

“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.

“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.

“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”

they both know exactly who you’re talking about.

you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.

it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.

it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.

you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.

~ the last time

you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.

it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.

you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.

lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.

everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.

but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.

hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.

you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes
you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry
you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night
i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time

the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.

alone.

~

as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.

“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.

-

it could have been worse, you suppose.

the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.

you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.

you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.

you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.

you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.

“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.

“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.

“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.

“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.

“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.

“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.

“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.

“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.

several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.

“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.

“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.

“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.

“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.

“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.

the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.

the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.

“fuck sake.” you sigh.

“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.

“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.

“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.

“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.

“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.

“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.

“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.

“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.

“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.

“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.

“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.

you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.

“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.

you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.

your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.

“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.

“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.

lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.

“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.

“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“

“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.

“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.

“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.

“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.

“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.

“and what are you gonna do?”

“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.

lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…

“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.”

and then, everything goes to shit.

lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.

“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.

it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.

even though we're going through it
and it makes you feel alone
just know that i would die for you
baby, i would die for you

“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.

“i have a car outside.”

“well, let’s use it then.”

-

you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.

“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.

lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.

“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.

“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.

“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.

“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.

you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.

“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.

“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.

the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.

you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.

“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”

“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.

“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”

your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.

random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.

“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.

“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.

“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.

“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.

“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.

“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.

“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”

and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.

you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.

“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.

“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.

“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.

you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.

“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.

“why do you hate me so much?”

“i don’t.”

“yes, you do.” he scoffs.

“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.

that shuts him up.

“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.

“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”

“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”

“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”

“okay.”

that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.

“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.

“what?”

“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”

~ 15

he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.

she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.

he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.

she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.

he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.

he can never have her, so why even try?

~

“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.

mutually, at least.

“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.

you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.

“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’

“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.

“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.

“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.

“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.

“who said i stopped?”

“oh.” you breathe.

~ 13

he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.

he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.

“why are you here?” she whines.

“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”

he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.

he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.

her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.

it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.

~

messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.

his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.

you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.

it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.

-

the heat wakes you up.

you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.

lando is in your bed.

lando had protected you.

lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.

he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.

a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.

“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.

“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.

“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.

“what’s bothering you?”

“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.

“i am pretty hot i guess.”

“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.

lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“need to get this dress off.”

lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.

it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.

“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.

“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”

“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.

you cave, finally.

it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.

your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.

“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.

lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.

tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.

“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.

his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.

“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.

lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.

“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.

you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.

“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.

he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.

“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.

“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”

your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.

“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”

“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.

“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”

your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.

lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.

“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”

your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.

“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.

“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.

this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.

“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.

his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.

“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.

“so close.” you sigh.

he stops.

“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.

“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.

“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.

you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.

“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.

slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.

“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”

lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.

the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.

a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.

his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.

the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.

it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.

swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.

lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.

he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.

your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.

“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.

“yeah.” your throat feels raw.

“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

you nod.

“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.

you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.

you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.

-

“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.

“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.

“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.

“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.

“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.

“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.

“so, alex called…”

“oh, shit.”

“we have to go to dinner tonight.”

“we have to?”

“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.

before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:

“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.

“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.

“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.

“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.

“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.

“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.

“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.

“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”

“bye alex.”’

“you’re not denying it-“

“bye alex!”

you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.

“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.

“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.

“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”

“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.

-

“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.

you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.

“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.

the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?

he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.

when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.

lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.

and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.

“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.

“getting even.” you state.

with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.

“may i?” you ask for his consent.

“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done

FROM: you

TO: the groupchat

1 image attached

couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx

“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.

you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.

“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.

you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.

“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.

“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.

“me too, lando.” you coo.

he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.

you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.

-

let me know what you think :D

-

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[canthelpit0]

Jealous girl

Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k +

Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader (if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected

(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)

I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.

I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.

I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.

We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.

So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.

At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.

So I reluctantly agreed.

There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.

Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.

Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.

We don’t talk a lot though.

★ ★ ★

I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

But I have homework and-

My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.

“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.

“Chris?” I ask back.

At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.

I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.

He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.

“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.

“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.

“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.

“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.

After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.

“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.

I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.

Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.

We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.

“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.

“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.

“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”

That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.

“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Yeah” he chirps back happily.

Oh so now they were snapping too?

He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.

Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.

I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.

The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.

The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.

“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.

“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.

I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.

“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.

I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.

“Chris, I have shit to do”

that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.

“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.

I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.

I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.

Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.

Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.

Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.

It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.

“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.

“I mean it.” He answers.

But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.

The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.

I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.

“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.

I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.

Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.

And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.

Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.

“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.

She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.

I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.

We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.

We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?

My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.

“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.

He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”

I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.

“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.

Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.

“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.

“Y/n” he huffs.

“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.

“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.

But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.

★ ★ ★

The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.

She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.

It was just the same old recycled bullshit.

He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?

That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.

I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.

“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.

This was our weekly complaining session.

“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.

“Eva?” I nod.

“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.

“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.

“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.

I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.

After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.

★ ★ ★

“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.

I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.

It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.

I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.

“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.

“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.

The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.

Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.

We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.

We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.

Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.

I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.

Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.

“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.

Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.

Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.

“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.

“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.

He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.

I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.

I put my overnight bag on his desk.

“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.

He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.

I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.

He crossed his arms staring back at me.

“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.

“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.

After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.

“Shit you’re right.”

Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.

I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.

“I know” I say simply.

“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.

Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.

“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.

I walk up to the side of his bed.

I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.

We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.

“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.

Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.

His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.

He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.

I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”

“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.

He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.

“We can do both” he assures.

I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.

He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”

Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.

Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.

I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.

“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.

I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.

He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.

I pull away admiring his neck.

I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.

“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.

His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.

It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.

“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.

I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.

I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.

The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.

“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.

He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”

I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.

“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.

He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.

I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.

His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.

I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.

He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.

I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.

My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.

Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.

I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.

“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.

He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.

My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.

He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.

“Please ride me ma.”

He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.

I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.

I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.

I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.

He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.

I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.

He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.

“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.

I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.

It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.

I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.

The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.

“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.

Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.

I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.

His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.

I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.

“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.

“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.

My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.

I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.

“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.

I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.

“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.

I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.

“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.

He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.

I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.

I film his face and his reactions now.

His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.

“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.

my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.

I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.

After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.

He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.

Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.

But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.

I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.

“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.

He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.

As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.

He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.

“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.

“I’m kind of busy right now”

But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”

Fucking pick me.

“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.

She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.

I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.

I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.

He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.

He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.

“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy

He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.

My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.

“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.

He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.

He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.

He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.

He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.

I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.

“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.

“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.

“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.

“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.

He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.

And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.

The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.

Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.

We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.

He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.

He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.

He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.

He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.

“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.

I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.

“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.

I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.

I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.

“Were you jealous?”

My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.

“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.

“I never liked her.”

“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.

I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.

“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.

I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.

“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile

“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.

“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.

“Why would I be jealous?” I huff, replying sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at me victoriously. He lays down next to me staring into my eyes.

Masterlist

A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf

[aleenuhs]

Helping Arthur release some tension after his right arm got injured in a gunfight. He’s been grumpy and stuck at camp; he could use a helping hand. 🤭

ᯓ★ A Helping Hand

I love this little idea, thanks anon!

warnings & tags: smut (p in v), fluff, nudity, afab!reader/fem!reader, Arthur is a lil angry, mentions of injury, established relationship, pet names, gendered language (she/her, reference to reader)

word count: 1,157

Arthur was starting to get hysterical due to his current situation. He got injured on his right arm, which he used in everyday life, especially when it came to using his guns and crafting.

The more hours he stayed in camp, he wished to be out and doing what he does best. Not that he avoided camp, or maybe he did, but he was there because that's where you were.

"I said I'm fine," he demanded, looking up at you from where he lay on the cot, your eyes wandered to the wrap on his arm, just staring.

"Let me at least get you some coffee, please?" You spoke, and Arthur didn't protest, so you assumed that it was what he wanted. "Good." You grabbed the little mug from his side table. Soon you came back with the mug and some coffee in it. Arthur sat up and took the small mug from you.

"Thank you," he said in almost a murmur. "I ain't want ta ask you for much, sweetie. I know you have stuff that you have to do 'round here."

You frowned a bit, "I finished all my chores, and Ms. Grimshaw said it was fine, don't act like it's a burden, Arthur, when it's not. I love you okay?" You smiled again, sitting beside him, resting your head on his left shoulder, he used his injured arm to swipe a few hairs away from your face.

"A'right then, I love you too," He said to you.

"How does your arm feel?"

"Fine, I want to get back out there." He said with slight desperation in his voice, his eyes bored to the house's walls. You grin.

"Arthur, you need rest." You say placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Remember how I said I was fine? Yea' I meant it." He said, with a little sass in his tone, making you giggle.

"Go tell mister Dutch that," You replied in a murmur but an even sassier tone than his one previously.

"What'd you say?" He said, not catching whatever you just said.

"Nothing." His eyes snap to your expression, and the shrug that crept onto your shoulders. He placed the mug down on the side table.

"Don't do that now..." He looked at you, "what did you say?" You can only giggle at how he yearns to know what you said, suddenly you're right under him, he manhandled you under him and you're still laughing at him. "Guess I'm gonna have to get it outta you one way or the other." He began to tickle you, knowing exactly where to get you, your tummy.

"Hey!" You said suddenly, "No not this right now!"

"Tell me!" He persisted in tickling you, and you were trying to fight back without hurting his arm even more, but you weren't going to win this at all so you sighed heavily.

"I told you to go tell Mister Dutch what you'd said!" You uttered fast and Arthur let go of you, both of you breathing hard, the little tears in your eyes from how much you felt vulnerable while being tickled went away.

"Did'ya now?" He had a smug look on his face, "I just might." You nodded when he said that.

A minute of silence fell into the air between you two, his body on top of yours, careful not to squish you, he stares longingly into your eyes and smiles. "But I wanna stay here with my sweet girl." He kissed you before you could even respond, both of your guys' lips smashing together, he lays himself down next to you bringing you closer. The little squeaks of the bed as you two moved on it filled the air. Your body shifted on top of his, you smiled down at him and he chuckled.

"Whatcha gonna do?" he playfully chided, you looked a bit lost. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you brought your head down to kiss his neck. His warm hands slithered up your legs and stayed on your hips as he kissed you back, your skirt was riding up your thighs and Arthur smiled.

You got up and slid off your underwear and then got back onto the cot, unzipping his pants and taking his cock out. You balanced yourself above his hips, he stared up at you and smiled, your clit dragged against his tip, he groaned a bit, Arthur reached down to his cock, rubbing it against your wetness, making your hips falter a bit. He pushes his cock right into your entrance. A moan escaped your lips, hands finding his chest and applying a bit of pressure as you rode him. His cock stretched you out, and boy did it feel good. "Mhm, such a good girl fa' me..." He put his hands on your hips, slightly guiding them to move even faster.

The room was filled with the sounds of his grunts and your moans, the sounds of skin slapping together. "Fuck.." you moan when his cock hits your g-spot. Your knees already weak, he feels you starting to give up, he assists your efforts by bucking himself up into you. The only other time you've felt the burning sensation in your thighs is when you're riding your horse, but this felt good.

You lean down and kiss him some more, they were sloppy kisses but he took them gladly, you still rolled your hips.

"Takin me so well." He used his left hand to rub your clit, taking you completely over the edge, making you moan even louder. He needed you so bad, he was full of tension and pent up energy from everything. He'd been wanting to fuck you for a long time, a while, he watched you walk around camp talking to everyone as he was supposed to be resting and taking it easy, he would sit near the fire drinking, smoking or cleaning his guns.

He always thought of you, he needed you, what a man you'd made him.

Now, he started to rut faster into you, not taking it easy at all.

"Arthur--" You groaned out in pure pleasure, his rough hands caressed your soft skin, the hands that killed and strangled people, they were so soft to you, they pleasured you.

"Alright there, princess?" He checked on you and you nodded as you hid your face in the crook of his neck. Your cheeks were red and you could feel your cunt clench around him, you were both close, his hands brung you down even harder on him. "Y'gonna cum, girl?" He used his finger to tilt your chin up to look at him as you came. "Look at me." He demanded.

When your orgasm hit, you shook and moaned out his name. He came shortly after you.

"God-" You cried out in pleasure, "oh my..."

Arthur whimpered a bit, before he held onto you. grasping at your shoulders to keep himself grounded.

"Damn, you did so good for me..." he praised you.

"I did?" You smiled up at him as you laid there on top of his chest. \

"Sure did." He hugged you.

a/n if u liked this pls req more!

[syrma-sensei]

→ Rugrats, Pool, and Grilling Techniques.

pairing: soldier boy x wife!reader.

rating: smut, fluff.

warning: domestic soldier boy, dangerously smitten ben (oocish), established relationship, daddy ben, breeding kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, non-canon complied.

word count: 2k

summary: soldier boy is surprisingly an amazing family man.

tagging: @zepskies

→ masterlist | ao3

“Ready. Go!”

As soon as your husband's whistle blows into the air, a loud splash follows when Jamie and Maggie hopped into the pool. Inheriting their father's super stamina and endurance, the two swim swiftly and with the agility of dolphins, while your husband's voice encourages them both. However, out of your twins, Maggie is the faster swimmer, whereas Jamie is quicker on land.

Bathing in the sun beam, you lay on the sunlounger next to Ben's, watching the trio having fun together in the pool. You plan on joining them in a bit, but you let them play on their supe level before you hop in, because after all, you're just a human. For the time being, you're sufficed with your feet dipped in the water at the rim of the pool.

“Haha, that's my girl!” Ben's face beams with a wide smile when Maggie, as expected, beat her twin to the other side of the pool.

“Cheater!” Jamie yells at his sister whom sticks her tongue out at him.

“No, you're just slow, Jay,” She retorts haughtily, a trait she caught from her dad.

He rolls his eyes, “See you on land, sis, 'coz you'll be dragging your ass behind me there,”

Ben bursts out laughing but he stops when you throw him a berating glare with a chiding tilt of your head. Your husband clears his throat.

“Oh, woah, manners young man,” Ben scolds, “You better watch that mouth, you don't speak to ladies like that.”

“Like she's one!” Jamie grouses, propelling his hands into the water, “She took on three children at school the other day.”

“Because they're bullies, and they had it coming!” Maggie replies heatedly.

Once again, a proud grin stretches Ben's lips from ear to ear. You shake your head hopelessly at him.

Maggie swims towards her father, saying, “Bullies are bad, aren't they, Papa?”

“That's right,” Ben agrees, stroking a strand of Maggie's hair away from her face, “You go kick their asses, kiddo.”

“He said it!” Jamie gasps.

“For the love of God, Ben, watch your language in front of the kids!”

He ignores you, “Our daughter, my daughter here is going to be a badass chick.” A grin is plastered on his mouth before his kisses her cheek.

Maggie giggles at her father, “What does badass mean, Papa? Is my butt bad?”

Ben hurls his head back with a laugh, “No, cupcake, your butt ain't bad. It means you're cool as f—hell.” He glances at you momentarily, then he corrects again, “As heck, cool as heck.”

Jamie swims towards his sister, slyness contorts his face, in that moment, you're in stupor at the way it resembles Ben's visage.

“Cool or not, Dad's not gonna allow you to go out with boys,” Jamie says, “Are you, Dad?”

One would expect Maggie's eyes to widen, to look horrified, and her to look at her father urgently, silently begging him to deny what James just said. But the little one swims to her father and wraps her tiny arms around his neck. “I don't need boys, Jay.” She replies with sass, “I'm daddy's little princess, right, Papa?”

While you swoon at Maggie, you smile amusedly as Ben grows a bit perplexed at the sudden affectionate admission from Margret. So, you decide you rescue your husband by climbing down into pool.

“Of course, sweetheart,” You say, swimming towards the three, “Daddy's always gonna be here for you,”

Maggie tilts her head and kisses her father's temple. Ben's grin falters; you can read the uneasiness written on his face.

“Love you, Papa,” she whispers.

“Love you too, princess,”

Maggie's giggles warble around, and Jamie rolls his eyes again.

The four of you play together in the pool, swimming and tossing the ball, after you've divided into two teams; you and Jamie against Ben and Maggi.

During the game, you pick up on the lethargy of his moves. He's not being himself at the moment, for normally, his competitive spirit would more eager to win, even if it were a mere game. You frown a bit when you hurl the ball to the other side of the pool only for Maggie to catch it with dexterity. She throws it back with her supe strength to your side, but Jamie baulks it with his supe speed.

“Close enough, sis, but you're being sloppy,” He teases.

“You wish!”

Jamie flings the ball to the other side again, and Ben blocks it with one large hand.

“Uh oh.” You hear Jamie whisper when he sees his father's smirk. Ben draws his hand backwards then darts it in Jamie's direction. It dashes through a blurry, white flash before it bashes into the water by you, the bolt makes your hair sway.

“Nicely-done, dad!” Jamie cheers.

“Hey, what side are on, Jay?!” You frown, grousing.

Your son only shrugs, “But it was awesome!”

“Ah, cut the kid some slack, would ya?” Ben makes an amused sound, raising his hands in a gesture, “Not my fault I'm the favourite parent here.”

“We' shall see about that, Mr. Gilman, we shall see.” You squint, lips puckering up in a playful curl.

The game ends with a draw; James and Margret aren't so crazy about the result. And they start to squabble about it when you decide to call it a day in the pool and climb out of it.

After having a quick shower, and wearing fresh clothes, the four of you embark on preparing lunch. You and Maggie are to prepare the table, and Jamie is to help his father with the grilling labour.

While Ben teaches Jamie the grilling technics (which you originally taught Ben, because the man didn't know to cook shit when you first met) you chopped the vegetables that Maggie rinsed for you into the salad bowl. The meat odorous smell tickles your nostrils and makes your mouths water.

When the plates are laid out and the meal is ready, the four of you encircle the table, and enjoy what you made together with the spirit of your extraordinary family.

•••

In the evening, you take another shower, but more thoroughly this time. You don't want the smell of barbecued meat and the reek of coal to stick to your body when you go to bed.

You step out the bathroom with a fluffy towel wrapped around your body after thirty minutes. You find Ben sitting at the foot of the bed, his brown hair is still drenched from his shower. He's wearing a grey shirt, and a matching grey sweatpants, with a towel on his head.

His gaze instantly softens when his green eyes land on your figure, a tender smile visiting his lips. You smile back at him, taking the spot next to him on the bed.

“Today was great,” You say, your hands on his strong arm, massaging his muscle, “Thank you, Ben.” Again, he freezes when you reach out to kiss his temple.

Ben nods, the he draws his head back to gaze at you, his large hand cupping your cheek. “No, thank you, baby, for giving me all of this.”

You tilt your head, chewing your lower lip, “Well, you're most welcome, Daddy.”

You see something wicked swirl in the green of his eyes, and the sly smirk on his lips makes your heart skip.

“I was thinking...” Ben scratches his beard with a drawl, eyes predating your body, “The twins are seven now.” He reaches out a hand to tip your chin up, his lips are dangerously close to yours, “What do you think of a third one? Fuck, third and fourth and fifth too.” He thumbs your lower lip gently, “I want to make children with you as much as possible. I want our place to be full of those rugrats.”

A fierce blush rises up to your neck as his breath fans your face, and the flesh between your legs twang in delight. You like it when he talks like that.

Your answer comes as a crushing kiss, and a moan from your throat. Ben's hands trail down to your sides and he lifts you up to his lap. One of his hands roams down your back and loosens the towel, and you're gorgeously naked for him.

“Atta girl,” He praises, “Ready to take what I want to give her.”

He kneads your breasts just right, pinching and caressing where you like, and his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck. You moan his name, and you feel his cock beneath you coming gradually to life.

You grind your bare cunt on his nourishing cock, and his hand grasps your hair to pull your head. “Behave,” he warns with a chuckle, “Fucking eager, aren't we?”

“Ben, please,” You roll your hips again, your arousal is already glistening on his crotch, “Give it to me, fuck me please, please, please, Daddy, make me carry your babies, please make me your breeding slut.”

You can hear his breath hitch before he sears your lips shut with his, hands resting on your buttocks, his blunt nails digging on the flesh of your crack while you cup his bearded cheek.

Ben hoists you up sharply and flips you, splaying your body wide on the bed beneath him. Quick as the supe he is, he takes off his clothes and graces you with his naked glory. He grabs one of your legs and pulls you down impatiently. You giggle playfully.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea,” He cups your mound with a possessive hand, his thumb flicking your clit “How much I want to fucking breed this slutty cunt full,”

You spread your legs further for more friction, “Please, Daddy, please, I want your cum, I need your seed.”

“Fuck, baby,” He grumbles, “Needy, little whore...” Your toes curl at the word, more arousal oozing out if your cunny.

His hands grip your thighs, while lining up to your pussy. You yelp and laugh sporadically at the vigour of his thrust. His hands reach out to yours on either side of your head. Your fingers entangle as he paces up his moves.

Your back arches, and words spilling incoherently out of your mouth as he fucks your brains dumb. You hear him swear and spit in the most vulgar language you've ever heard, and it makes you squeeze him more.

You like that dirty tongue of his, how it makes you feel a flagrant whore yet an unstoppable queen.

“Ben, Ben, I'm so close!” You cry, closing your eyes shut.

“Come to me, baby,” He says, bringing his thumb to your clit.

You hang your arms on his strong back as you feel it coming. Your nails graze his flesh when your orgasm sweep over your being. Your inner drawers clamps down on his cock in a tight hug.

Ben growls in your ear, animalistic and primitive, as he twitches sharply inside of you, painting your insides white.

You take your time to calm down. Breathing gradually placating to normal before he rolls on his back beside you. You snuggle up to his chest, and he holds you close with his arm. You feel his seed leaking into your thighs, and your cunt still throbbing through the throes of your orgasm.

You close your eyes and relish in the moment in silence.

“You're a good dad, Ben.” You say after several minutes, looking up at him.

He gazes down at you, hand playing with your hair, “I try not to be like my old man.”

You smile, “I know you do, and you're nothing like him. The kids adore you.”

His Adam's apple bobs up and down, sneering, “Well, that's good to hear. Not to be a fucking disappointment in someone's eye.”

You peck his lips, pride flourishing within your chest; it took you ages to convince Ben that opening up and expressing his feelings to someone he trusts doesn't equal being a sniveling pussy.

He might be the greatest supe, the hero of heroes, an asshole to some and a god to others. But to you, Ben is just Ben, a doting husband, and a perfect father. And you'd stand against the world for him.

Kissing his forehead you say, “You never were one to me, Ben.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 1- I D.A.R.E. You

Summary: After starting your new job as a 3rd grade teacher at Alma Pierce Elementary School, you meet a handsome Javier Peña who has been forced to come give a presentation to your grade. Although you've never met him, you're shocked to find out you may have more in common than you'd think.

Warnings: Mentions of Javi's past work for the DEA, mentions of death and grief, language, financial compensation if you were subjected to the D.A.R.E program as a child, Javi's family friends giving him sass

Word count: 6.2K

A/N: Post Season 3 Javi lives forever in my brain, as the first chapter of this story takes place in Laredo, May of 1997. This man deserves love, and boy is he going to get it.

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“It’s your lucky day, Peña!” 

Javier glanced up from the pile of paperwork scattered across his desk to acknowledge the voice coming from the doorway to his office. 

“What do you want, Carter?” 

Javier's voice half grunted in response, his eyes shifting back down to the pile of papers on his desk. In his doorway stood his office mate, Detective Eric Carter. When Javier began his new position with the Laredo County Sheriff's Department 4 months ago, it took everything in him to keep from calling his new co-worker Steve. At a glance, he looked just like his old DEA partner. Tall, lanky, with a wiry head of blonde hair and bright blue eyes. 30 seconds into meeting Carter, it didn’t take long to realize looks were about the only thing he and Steve Murphy had in common. Eric Carter was a human ray of fucking sunshine, and his chipper demeanor was blinding Javier this early in the morning. 

“It’s your turn!” Carter replied in a sing-songy voice, slapping a red file folder onto Javier’s desk, covering the papers he had been sorting through. Javier picked up the folder and crinkled his brows in confusion. He turned the cover towards him, holding it just far enough away so that his squint trying to read its contents wasn’t too obvious. God, he just needed to give up and buy reading glasses already. 

As he got the folder just the right distance away from his face, he gave Carter a look that said absolutely fucking not. The folder read D.A.R.E school assembly lessons, with a picture of the Lion mascot giving a big thumbs up in his black D.A.R.E shirt. The office had recently been recruited by Laredo Public School District to start giving presentations to the Elementary schools, using the program aptly abbreviated for Drug Abuse Resistance Education. 

“Just take away the “R” and rearrange some letters and it spells DEA!” Carter laughed to himself. “It’s like it was made for you!” 

“No.” 

“Sorry Peña, you’re bottom of the totem pole this week. We’ve all done our time, and you’re the last one left in the office who has yet to go present. It’s not even that bad, you just basically go talk to these kids for an hour and tell them drugs are bad, don’t do them, yadda, yadda, yadda, you get the gist, and then it’s done. Piece of cake!” 

“I’m not fucking going.” Javier scoffed. “I have shit I have to get done.” Gesturing in annoyance to the piles of papers on his desk, now in disarray from the folder being thrown on his desk. 

“Not a choice, Mr. Peña.” 

A new voice passed by the doorway, and a much broader frame stood behind Carter’s. Chief Deputy Dean Morris, had joined the conversation, knowing that it wouldn’t end easily for Detective Carter if he kept harassing Javier about it. Morris was head of the department, and what he said, went. Coming from a background in the Air Force, Morris knew how “civilian” a position at a sheriff’s department must have felt for Javier after his time in the DEA. 5 years ago, it seemed fair to think that neither of them would have assumed paperwork, mundane training programs, and now, arguing over talking to 10 year olds about the dangers of doing drugs would have played any importance in their jobs. 

 “Right of passage. Ever since the school board dropped this on us last year, we’ve all done our time. Believe me, no one wants to do it, but like Carter said, today is your lucky day!” Morris’s voice oozed with sarcasm, knowing that Javier would absolutely hate every second of what he was about to have to do. 

“You lucked out on your day to go too, Peña. It looks like you get to go to the school with the hot teach-OW! Hey! What was that for?!” Morris had slapped Carter’s shoulder before he could get out the rest of his sentence. 

“Keep it in your pants, okay Carter?” 

Carter let out a huff of defeat. “I’m just saying, he could have gotten worse days to go…” 

“Just read from the notes, let the kids ask a couple of questions at the end and then you’re on your way. Easy peasy. When you get to the school office they’ll let you know where to go.” 

Javier opened his mouth to rebuttal, but before he could even get out a word, Morris held up his hand to stop him. 

“Not a choice. I’ll have Carter help you finish sorting paperwork, so don’t try to bullshit me and tell me that you have too much work to get done.” 

Javier let out a sigh of frustration that was a little louder than he intended it to be. His hands rested on his forehead as he rubbed the bridge of his nose before replying. 

“Fine. But this is one and done.” 

“Good man.” Morris reached over Javier’s desk and gave him a pat on the shoulder. He and Carter started to make their way out of Javier’s office when Morris turned his head over the back of his shoulder. 

“Carter’s right about the teacher, too. She’s a catch.” He winked and shut the door behind him. 

Javier gathered his things and made his way through the office, passing by Detective Carter’s desk. 

“Have funnnnnnn! Say ‘hi’ to the hot teacher for me!” Carter mocked, twinkling his fingers, waving at Javier. 

Without saying a word, Javier flipped him off, and kept walking. 

Settling into his truck, Javier set down his belongings in his passenger seat, and opened up the red file folder to see where his unexpected journey was taking him. 

This is fucking ridiculous He mouthed to himself as he cranked up the AC in the truck with one hand, and rummaged the other through the items on the seat. Reaching next to him, he grabbed and opened the folder, and grazed his index finger down the inside cover, where a schedule of schools, dates, and times were printed. At the bottom, he found 

5/27/97- Alma Pierce Elementary School, 12:00-12:30 pm, school cafeteria

 Javier’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. He read the line several times, re-checking the location and date to make sure what he read was true. 

Fuck. 

To any of his other co-workers who had been tasked with giving one of these D.A.R.E. presentations, the elementary school they were assigned to that day most likely held little to no significance. Of course, out of the 16 elementary schools in the Laredo Public School District, Javier was assigned to the one that held the most significance to him. 

The school that his mother taught at for her entire teaching career before she passed away. 

Since returning home from Colombia, Javier had been avoiding human contact like the plague. He had returned as somewhat of a “hometown hero” after his accomplishments with the DEA but couldn’t have felt further from it. He had become Laredo’s hottest topic. 

“What was it like to help catch Escobar?! The Cali Cartel?!” 

“We’re so proud of you, the DEA couldn’t have done it without you!”

“When are you going to come over and tell us all about Colombia? We want to know everything!” 

Each question, compliment and conversation about his time in South America was like a knife to his heart, slowly twisting with each word that came out of someone’s mouth. He could feel the guilt and burden of his time away growing heavier and heavier as he politely smiled through these conversations. 

But worse than the strangers who felt entitled to berate Javier about his time in Colombia, were his friends and family who he had been actively avoiding since returning home. Besides his father, Javier hadn’t seen anyone close to him since his mother’s funeral 8 years ago. It hurt Javier knowing that he had returned to Laredo a changed man, haunted by the things he had seen and done. His mother’s closest friends, those that she worked with at Alma Pierce Elementary School, had promised to fulfill Lucia Peña’s dying wish that they would look out for Javi and made sure that he came home okay. 

Well, Javier was home. He wasn’t quite sure how to break it to them that he wasn’t really okay. 

As he drove and parked in front of the school building, Javier’s heart began to beat heavier in his chest. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel as he started at the entrance to the school. He couldn’t decide if the feeling swirling around in his stomach was comfort or terror, knowing that Alma Pierce Elementary looked exactly the same as it did the last time he was here 9 years ago with his mother. 

He did know that part of that feeling definitely had to be terror, as he began to think about the fact he was about to be interrogated relentlessly by his late mother’s closest friends. Might as well sign these women up to work for the DEA- they were probably more terrifying than anyone Javier had encountered in his time working there. 

After a few more deep breaths, Javier gathered his things out of his truck and headed towards the main doors. Each footstep felt like he was walking through wet cement, questioning if it was too late to turn around.

Practically tip toeing in to the office, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible, Javier let out a soft “Hi, I’m from the sheriff's department, I’m here for-“ 

Before he could even finish his sentence, the office secretary, a tiny and graying Señora Gutierez was thrusting her arms across the threshold of the office desk to wrap Javier in an impressively strong hug. 

“JAVIER PEÑA. I cannot believe it’s you! oh my sweet mijo, look at you! The older you get, the more like Chucho you look, dios mio! Why haven’t you stopped by?! We have all missed you so much, what have you been doing? It is so good to see you!” 

Here we go.

“Hola, Señora.” Javier half grunted from how tight he was being squeezed. “It’s nice to see you too.” 

“I have lots to ask but I know you need to go, or they will know that this old woman has been running her mouth, making you late.” Señora Gutiérrez began shooing her hand, as to send Javier on his way. 

Javier chuckled. He felt his body begin to ease slightly, letting the familiarity of friendly faces bring him a small sense of comfort. 

“I would hope after this VERY LONG time that you have not been to see your mamà’s dearest friends, you still remember where the cafeteria is?” She gave Javier a playful grin.

“Sí, Señora.” 

“Everyone will be so happy to see you, mi amor. Now go, or everyone will be after me for keeping you!” 

Grabbing his things, Javier made his way down the bustling hallway. Tiny faces stared up at his, as he shuffled his way towards the cafeteria doors. There, he was greeted by a sea of children chatting amongst themselves and 3 smiling faces, patiently waiting for his arrival. 

“JAVI!” 

Out of any of the faces he was bound to see today, these were the 3 he would recognize anywhere. The ladies who stood before him were the fellow 3rd grade teachers who had taught alongside his mother for almost 20 years. 

The ladies surrounded him in a bear hug, Javier quietly noting to himself that he had definitely reached his hug quota for the next several weeks. 

“It’s so good to see you, Javi.” The first of the 3 women spoke, her words sweet like honey. Linda Garcia was short and stout, her gray bangs brushing over the brim of her glasses as she looked up at Javier. Linda had always had a soft spot for Javi, and reminded him the most of his mother. 

“It’s good to see you t-“ 

“PENDEJO. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! WHY HAVE YOU NOT CALLED?! WE SWORE TO YOUR LATE MOTHER THAT WE WOULD TAKE CARE OF YOU, AND IF IT WASN’T FOR CHUCHO KEEPING US UPDATED TH-” 

“Maria, let the boy breathe, this is the first time you’re seeing him in years, and this is the route you’re going to take? Dios Mio.” 

Standing next to Linda were her 2 partners in crime, Maria Rogers and Estelle Lopez. 

If you didn’t know Maria Rogers, you would be shocked to see the ferocity that came out of such a tiny woman. Javier’s mother used to refer to her “el vòlcan”- a matching nickname for her fiery personality. 

Estelle, on the other hand, was one of the most soft spoken people that Javier had ever meant. If she had something to say, he knew it was time to listen. 

“Hi everyone, it’s really great to see all of you.” Javier meant it. As overwhelmed and flustered as he was, it brought him peace to know after the hell that these last 8 years had been, some things never change. 

“MRS. ROGERSSSSSSS. WHEN IS THIS GONNA START?! I’M HUNGRY AND I KNOW LUNCH IS AFTER THIS.” 

“BE QUIET, MICHAEL. YOU KNOW WE’RE STILL WAITING FOR ONE MORE CLASS. YOU’RE SO ANNOYING.” 

“AM NOT!” 

“AM TOO!” 

Chatter and fidgeting amongst the 3rd graders instantaneously increased, the crowd of children now growing restless. 

“Oi, these niños will be the death of me, thank goodness this school is almost done.” Maria mumbled under her breath, the other 2 teachers rolling their eyes and laughing in agreement. “We’re just waiting on one more class, but they should be here any minute.” 

Overhearing the conversations shouted across the cafeteria, Agent Carter’s voice wandered through Javier’s thoughts. 

“You get the school with the hot teacher!” 

Obviously, Carter was not referring to the 3 women who stood before him. Although he wasn’t one for crude office banter, Javier couldn’t help but wonder if Carter’s statement really held true. With a genuine curiosity and a slight smirk on his face, he leaned back, arms crossed and asked, “Yeah wait, there’s still four 3rd grade teachers right?” 

The women all shot him a look that took him aback, their eyes burning a hole though Javier. 

“Jesus, you men really have a one track mind don’t you. Yes, I’m sure all of your friends from the department have been more than happy to tell you about our new teacher who just joined us. She is a sweet girl, and I am sure she is sick of getting harassed by all of you.” 

“Maria, I was just asking a quest-“ 

“Javier Jesus Peña, I have known you since before you were born. Wipe that smug look off your face, I know exactly why you asked the question”. 

Yup, things haven’t changed a bit. 

Before he could retort, the cafeteria doors began to swing open, followed by a long line of children, and you. 

“1, 2, 3, eyes on me!” 

“1, 2, eyes on you! 

God, the amount of times you’d had to repeat that phrase as the end of the school year approached, you might as well have gotten it tattooed on your forehead. 

“Okay 3rd graders, we’re already 5 minutes late for our assembly, and I’m sure the other classes are not going to be happy that we’re holding them up, and probably making us late for lunch after” 

The chatter stopped. With only a few days left in the school year, you were running out of ammunition to keep your class’s attention. At least the threat of being late to unch would work for now. 

A little hand shot up from the middle of the line you were about to trail down the hallway, like a mother duck with her babies following in line. “What’s your question, Jaun?” 

“Do you know if it’s gonna be the same guy as last time? He was kind of scary.” Mumbles of agreement came from the voices surrounding him. The Laredo Sheriff's Department had sent in a slew of their employees each week for these presentations, and you had been convinced none of them had ever even attempted to talk to a child. Last week’s presenter, Martin, Michales, something like that, had spent the large time of his presentation talking about getting murdered by the Cartel, leading to tears from many of your students, and a prompt request to not have him back. 

“I don’t know sweetie, it seems like there’s someone new who comes every week, but I sure hope it’s not him.” The class let out a small giggle. These were the moments you loved about your job as a teacher, especially now that you had moved to an older grade where your kids finally picked up on your subtle jokes with them. 

You had been with your class since after Christmas break, filling in as a long term sub for a 3rd grade teacher on maternity leave. The job followed an impromptu move from Chicago to Texas after breaking off your relationship with your boyfriend (regrettably, almost fiancé)  of 3 years, who had been cheating on you behind your back for 2 of them. You felt like an idiot that you hadn’t seen it coming, but it still hit you like a ton of bricks. Paul had plenty of red flags, but your optimistic demeanor and the mounting peer pressure of watching your friends get married and start their own families made you feel trapped. It still stung to think you would have settled for a miserable life with Paul out of the fear you wouldn’t find anyone else. 

 Desperate to get as far away from Illinois as possible, you packed your bags and made the nearly 4 day drive down to Laredo, Texas. Laredo,  a strange choice to many, but made nothing but complete sense to you. Your best friend since the 2nd grade, Sarah Alverez, had moved to Laredo your Freshman year of high school, her father accepting an agricultural engineering position in ranching country. You spent every summer until college visiting her and her family, having nothing but the fondest of memories for a sleepy town outside of San Antonio. It was a stark chance from the hustle and bustle of Chicago suburbia where you had spent your childhood. Long, carefree summer days made you promise yourself that if you ever did leave Chicago, you’d find yourself here. Well, you had made good on your promise, but for reasons that still made your stomach churn in gut-wrenching knots. 

You and your class journeyed down the hallway to the cafeteria. Thank god it was a short trip, because you were far too tired to put up with the bickering and shenanigans the back of your line often seemed to plague you with. Just as you were entering through the cafeteria doors, you promptly turned around, your body facing the line as you walked backwards further into the cafeteria. “Isabella and Jorge, keep your hands to yourself! You two know you’re not supposed to be in line togeth-” Before you could finish your sentence, the back of your body collided with one behind you that you hadn’t seen since turning around to stop a near WWE smackdown in the hallway. You had bumped into kids more than once who weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, but it became very clear, very quickly, that the body you had backed yourself into was not a child’s. 

The body you had backed yourself into was much taller and broader than yours. Two large hands firmly, but gently grasped around the middle of your upper arms to catch you without stumbling backwards any further. An overwhelming scent of cedarwood and sage cologne filled your senses. This obviously was not one of your coworkers, either. 

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorr-“ you started to apologize as you came to face the body that had stopped you in your tracks. Your apology halted as you were met by incredibly broad shoulders covered by a navy blue suit jacket. As your gaze continued upwards, the shoulders were followed by a strong square jawline and plush lips, the upper covered with an impeccable mustache. Continuing up, you were met with the most beautiful, deep chocolate brown eyes, whose soft stare soon met yours. There was no denying that this man was devilishly handsome. Realizing that you had most definitely been starting too long, you restated your apology. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were behind me.” Your eyes shifted away from his and darted down to the floor. 

A small smirk formed on his face as he looked down at you. He didn’t realize it, but he couldn’t help it. You were wearing a yellow sun dress that hit just above your knees, covered by a light washed denim jacket. Your dress swayed beautifully as he watched you take your last few steps backwards, making him question himself if he let you run into him on purpose. You smelled like vanilla and something sweet that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Pink embarrassment flooded your cheeks as a soft smile on your face met his. He now too realized that he had been staring a little too long, and that he still had his grasp on your arms as you had turned around to look at him. 

“No it’s okay.” He let out a small laugh under his breath. “I just didn’t want you to go too much further and trip over anything else.” He gently let his hands leave her arms, and watched as she brushed a piece of hair out of her face and looked back up at him. 

“Should we go sit down now?!” A small voice shouted from your line, causing you to snap back to reality, realizing that you had a line of children still standing behind you. 

“Yes, sorry sweetie” you replied, brushing your dress down back into place. “You guys can go find a spot behind Mrs. Rogers’ class.” Your class passed by you, paying no mind to the interaction that just took place between you and the man you had just bumped into. 

As you watched your class pass by, you turned back around to find the man still staring at you, causing your heart to palpably beat in your chest. The same strong hands that had caught you were now extended in your direction, offering a handshake to introduce himself. “I’m Javier Peña, uh Javi, actually” as your hand met his, realizing how small they felt in his grip. “I’m from the Laredo Sheriff's department, I uh, I’m the one that’s supposed to be doing the whole presentation thing today.” Your hand stayed in his as you introduced yourself. God, his hands were something else.

His grip loosened as your co-workers began to move towards you. You began to realize how hot your face felt, knowing that you were flushed with embarrassment not only from almost falling into a crowd of 10 year olds, but from how awe struck you were by the man who had caught you.

The three women on your 3rd grade team had taken you in as one of their own when you started your job here. They had been more than happy to step in to help you with whatever you needed, including trying to set you up with every single man your age that they knew. With the exception of the parade of overly forward sheriff's department members who had been at your school every Wednesday. Those 3 had no problem telling those men to fuck right off and leave you alone (in the nicest way possible.) The ladies slowly crept closer towards you, sly grins stretched across their faces as they giggled like school girls. 

“OH, so it looks like you met our sweet Javier!” Linda said with over exaggerated enthusiasm. 

“Sweetie, you’re SO good with the technology around here, you know how us old ladies are. Maybe you could help him set up the video he needs for his presentation today?” You knew damn well these women knew how to press play on a VCR. You grimaced your face at Maria. While you couldn’t see your face, you were absolutely positive your expression was screaming “Oh my God, could you please make it any more obvious that this man is insanely attractive and you don’t need to add to the embarrassment after I already ran into him like an idiot?!” 

“Yeah, of course, I’d be more than happy to help!” You pointed towards the stage that sat in front of the cafeteria. “Just come this way and I’ll show you how to set it up.” 

Following behind you, Javier leaned his head down towards yours. “Must be the most complicated VCR set up I’ve seen in a while.” 

You let out a giggle. “Yeah, they're all very sweet, but not the most skilled with anything that has to do with technology. When our principal had mentioned the idea of us potentially getting a computer lab, they just about had a heart attack. Setting up the TV to play a video should be no problem.” You gestured towards the stage at the front of the cafeteria where the TV cart was kept for presentations. He followed behind you, keeping a respectful distance.  Not respectful enough to keep himself from staring at the curve of your ass in your dress as you walked up the stage stairs. 

“Do you have the tape you need to show?” Your words went in one ear and out the other. Carter and Morris weren’t kidding. He hated to admit that those idiots were right about anything, but God, you were beautiful. His gaze was locked on you as squatted down next to the VCR, ejecting its previous contents. It seemed in that moment that you very much both realized that when Javier stood in front of you, you eye level with his waist, staring up at him, dangerously close to his coc- 

“Uh, yeah, yeah sorry,” he shook his head slightly to snap himself out of the thought he was about to have. “Thanks.” he smiled sheepishly. 

“Well I’m no technology expert, but all you should have to do is press play wherever you need to, and you should be good to go! Let me just roll this cart out for you and we’re good for you whenever you’re ready!” You began pushing the cart out onto the stage, but before you could get anywhere, Javi had his hand over yours. 

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure it’s probably heavy, I can push it.” He insisted. 

You raised your eyebrows and gave him a look that made him step away. 

“What, you think I can’t do it?” Defiantly, you pushed the cart out to the middle of the stage to prove a point, looking back at him and shrugging with an “I told you so” look on your face. Any other woman he had met would have thankfully given up the task, let alone offer to do it at all. At that moment, Javier Peña knew you were not just any other woman. And that- that terrified him in the best way possible.

 Just before you hopped off the edge of the stage to re-join your class, you looked up at him as he ran his fingers through his locks of thick, curly brown hair, trying to regain his composure. 

“Good luck up there, Mr. Peña.” 

Javier couldn’t even tell you what had happened in the 30 minutes that he was up on stage. There were many times throughout his career where he had stared out into a sea of blank faces as he gave a presentation about intel, informats, wire taps… but having the eyes of 80 9 and 10 year olds glued to his every word was an absolutely terrifying experience. Not because he was nervous about the judgment of a child who may or may not even be able to tie their shoes or wipe their nose, but because of what they may say about him to you. It took everything in his power not to stare at you the entire time he was up there, but every time he glanced in your direction, your face lit up with a reassuring smile. You had even given him a little thumbs up when he had successfully started the VCR, playing a clip of Daren the D.A.R.E Lion. 

As the presentation finished, the kids applauded and gave a unanimous “thank you!” prompted by the teachers. 

As your class gathered behind you to walk down to the cafeteria, Maria tapped your shoulder. 

“Take a picture, mija, it will last longer.” 

You were too busy staring at Javi to even notice that Maria was talking to you. Her words went in one ear and out the other. 

“Huh, what? Sorry, did you say something?” 

“I said, take a picture, it will last longer.” Maria laughed to herself. “I don’t think your eyes have left him once since you walked in here.” 

You hated to admit it, but it was true. You had known this man for less than an hour, and he already had butterflies dancing around in your stomach. God, what were you, 12?! Pull it together. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Maria.” Of course you did. If you were wearing pants, they would be up in flames. Liar, liar, pants on fire. 

“I’ll take your class to lunch today. I’ll be back to help stack all of the chairs in a few. I’m sure he could use some help cleaning up, and I’ve heard that VCR is really difficult to work.” Maria nudged you before she turned around to collect your class and parade them out of the gym. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

Trying to contain your excitement, you playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head. 

The other teachers and students left, leaving just you and Javi. He gathered his things that he had left on the stage and started to make his way back down the stairs. It took him a moment to realize you were standing at the edge of the steps, arms crossed over your chest, smiling up at him. 

“I’m sorry if the kids were rowdy. It’s been a zoo since there’s only a few days of school left.” You both let out a small chuckle. Now that you two were alone, you became very aware of how nervous you were.

“You did a really great job! Honestly, you’re the best person we’ve had since we’ve started doing these presentations. The guy we had last time, I can’t remember his name, something with an M?! Anyways, I don’t think he’s ever spoken to a child in his entire life, and there were definitely some tears.” 

Definitely Morris, Javi noted to himself. 

“Thanks, I uh- didn’t think I’d be so nervous to talk in front of a bunch of kids. I’m glad it wasn’t too bad. I should thank you for helping me with that video. Didn’t need to get my pride bruised in front of 10 year olds.  Also glad I didn’t make anyone cry.” 

You both let out small laughs, your cheeks revealing small smiles across your faces. While the silence between you grew, the distance between you began to shrink as you both subconsciously took a small step towards each other. 

He watched as a small wave of sadness flooded your expression. “Stinks that this is the last week of presentations before the school year ends. it would have been nice to have you back.” You looked at him with a half hopeful smile. You saw the same feeling reflected back in him as his brow scrunched and bottom lip entered a small pout. 

“Oh shit. Yeah, I uh, I guess I forgot it’s the end of the school year. That would make sense there wouldn’t be anymore presentations.” He rested one hand on his hip, as the other traveled through his thick, brown locks. You bit down on your bottom lip, stunned by his broadness and shoulders to waist ratio, which was made even more apparent as his fingers combed through his hair. His deep brown eyes met yours, melting you instantly.  “If I had known that you would have been here, I would have signed up to come a lot earlier.” 

Before you had a chance to recover yourself from the puddle you had just turned into, the cafeteria doors swung open once again. Maria was a woman on a mission. Her tiny, thin frame marched with purpose towards you both. 

“Oh good thing I caught you, amor! I was just thinking that I had something important to tell Javier before he left and I’m so glad you’re here to hear it too. Javi happens to be a dear familiar friend, and I was just telling him before the presentation how excited I am to see him and his father at my cookout this Saturday! I know you had mentioned you were thinking about going! You’ll be there, won’t you Javier? Aren't you so excited to come to the party this Saturday?”

Maria and Javier entered a silent stare down. Their expressions allowed them to have an entire conversation without speaking a word. 

There’s a party on Saturday? What are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything?

Dios Mio, Pendejo. Take the hint. I already invited her. She will be there on Saturday so you can see her again. Don’t mess this up. 

“Oh really?” You chimed in, perhaps a bit too over enthusiastic. “I wasn’t really going to know anyone besides the staff at school, so it would be nice to see another familiar face!” In all honesty, you were trying to find a way out of going before just now. Huge social gatherings of strangers weren’t really your thing, but if it meant it was a chance to see Javi again, you would brave it. 

“Oh yeah, the uh, the cookout! Yeah, uh, yeah, I’ll be there. It would be really nice to see you again, too.” Although Javier’s tone carried a tint of confusion, his smile was confirmed that his statement was genuine. 

“Bueno!” Maria clasped her hands together and shook her head in delight. “So you will BOTH be there on Saturday!” 

You could already feel your heart swelling at the prospect of seeing Javi again. 

“Oh and mija”, Maria turned towards you, your face lighting up, wondering if she had even more good news to deliver. “They need you in the office. Isabella and Jorge got into a wrestling match in the cafeteria and the secretaries needed to call their parents. Oi, these niños are like wild animals, summer cannot come fast enough!” 

“Of course they did. They might as well put WWE referee under our job description because it seems like that’s all I’m doing all day. It’s like herding feral cats.” you groaned. “Those two cannot be together next year…” 

Javi let out a snort. “Sorry”, he said, trying to contain his laughter. You joined in, realizing the ridiculousness of your statement. 

“Alright, well I guess that’s my cue to go. It was really nice to meet you, Javi. I’m really glad I get to see you again.” It took every ounce of strength in your body to move yourself out of the cafeteria doors. As you walked away, you turned once more to look back over your shoulder, to find that Javi’s eye’s hadn’t moved from your direction since you turned around. “See you on Saturday.” 

Even after you were out of sight, Javi still stood frozen, his eyes wide and jaw still half open. 

“Hola, earth to Javier, are you there?!” Maria interjected, waving her hand in front of Javi’s awe struck face. 

Snapping out of his trance, Javier began to speak, but was stopped before he could get out a single word. 

“Listen to me mijo. I want you to be happy. That was all Lucia asked for before she passed. So first and foremost, you are welcome.” Maria gestured, alluding to the fact that Javier owed her big time for what had just happened. “Secondly, she is a sweet girl. If you do anything to break her heart, so help me, I will come to the ranch and run you over with your father’s tractor. Understood?” 

“Understood.” Javier understood that this was not a threat, it was a promise. 

“Good. She’s a good one, Javier. She reminds me so much of your mother. Lucia would have loved her.” She reached up her hand to cup the side of Javi’s face, before bringing her other arm around him for a hug. 

Javier exhaled, trying his best to hold back the tears that were welling in his eyes. It was the first time since returning home that he felt a sense of relief and comfort fill his body. Maybe, he was more than the man he was returning home from Colombia. Maybe, the people who loved him before he left still loved him now, despite the person he’d become. Maybe, just maybe, someone else could love him for the new man he now hoped to become.  

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Sod’s Law

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: For some reason bad luck followed you everywhere but it did lead to something special happening. Warnings: bad language WC: 871

F1 Masterlist

The fundamental principle of Sod’s Law states: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. That statement could not have been more true than the day you met Lando.

Montréal 2023

“That is what happens when you choose the cheapest hotel. Honestly, you should have just stayed with us.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear just to glare at it, not that Hayley could see the daggers you were mentally sending her. Huffing indignantly, you tucked the device back between your shoulder and ear.

“It took all my savings just to get here, I couldn’t exactly afford the Four fucking Seasons.”

“It’s a Best Western, thank you very much,” she replied with an equal level of sass. “You really did have a bad sleep, didn’t you?”

“To have a bad sleep requires actually getting to sleep. I’ll call you when I get to the track, I’m almost at the bus stop now.”

“Alright, stay safe, love you.”

“You too-oomph,” you slammed into a figure that had rushed out of the actual Four Seasons hotel and fell down on your ass, wearing the coffee that was meant to perk you up.

“Un-fucking-believable. This is just perfect.” You were ranting as you shook your hands free of the hot liquid scalding them but you didn’t care, it wasn’t like your day could get any worse.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t see you there,” a British man apologised and you looked up from the brown mess that was once your white shirt.

Your jaw dropped as you saw who it was holding his hand out to help you up. You might as well have been a fish for how you looked, opening and closing your mouth without being able to actually formulate words. “Uh. You, your Lando.”

“And you are?” he asked as he wiggled his fingers for you to take.

The many spoonfuls of sugar in the coffee had left a sticky residue on your hand and he wrinkled his nose at the feeling when he pulled you to your feet. “I’m sorry.”

“Was my fault,” he shrugged, wiping his hand on his jeans.

“Trust me, it wasn’t. I have the worst luck in the world. My luck is so bad that when my mother went to smudge me with sage, she singed my hair.”

His brows pinched together in confusion. “I don’t know what that means but I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“My shirt would say otherwise,” you said with a sigh, knowing there wasn’t enough time to return to the hotel and change. If you did that then you would miss the bus and with your luck it would snowball until you missed the entire race.

“I feel terrible for ruining your outfit,” he said sincerely and looked to the man accompanying him who just nodded. “How about you come with us and I can get you some McLaren merch? It’s the least I can do.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You desperately wanted to accept his offer but you feared what would happen. “Bad things happen around me and I would really like to see you win.”

Lando laughed and placed a hand on your back as he guided you to a SUV that a valet had brought around. “I don’t believe that.”

“We’ll see who’s laughing, just wait.”

—

“I’m not unsportsmanlike, I don’t understand it.”

You winced as you watched the post-race interview from McLaren’s hospitality and slunk deeper into your seat. You felt like an imposter with the VIP paddock pass hanging around your neck but thankfully no one really paid you any mind.

As promised, Lando had found you a papaya orange shirt and hoodie to change into before going to do his own thing. He’d said he would see you later but you still weren’t sure if it was in the literal sense or just a casual goodbye. So you ended up loitering around just in case.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Lando said as he fell heavily into the empty seat beside you.

Your head fell and you fidgeted with a bracelet on your wrist as you tried to hold back the tears of embarrassment welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I did warn you.”

“Hey,” he whispered softly, his finger curling under your chin to lift it back up. “I’m joking.”

“I’m not. It’s been like this my whole life. If something can go wrong, rest assured it will.”

Lando rose to his feet and held his hand out. You sighed quietly and started to pull the VIP pass as he came to his senses but he laughed and shook his head. “Your hand.”

You were beyond confused as you placed your palm in his and let him pull you to your feet. “Why?”

“Your luck is about to change, and I’m going to prove it.”

You chewed your lip hesitantly but eventually nodded, earning a warm smile that lit up his face. “But nothing dangerous. I’m not risking a parachute malfunction or engine failure.”

He held up his little finger and wiggled it. “Pinky promise.”

You hooked your finger with his and felt a spark flicker to life within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope after all.

[dustofthedailylife]

Dust !!! I can just imagine these boys, Venti, kaeya, ayato with someone shy. Like these shit eat that up(I'm not against them with other personalities) but they love when their s/o turns red and flustered.

Not much of a venti gal.

Ayato just has this proud look after he kissed his s/o to show that their in a relationship, one was to see the look on his s/o and the other was to ward suitors off

Meanwhile kaeya just has this smirk after using a pick up line on his s/o..

One word, nonnie!! Y E S! (Also I'm not too familiar with Venti since I usually don't write for him so bear with me here sjdhsjkd >.<); I also added a couple more characters I could imagine this with.

"I love it when you're flustered." ft. Kaeya, Ayato, Tighnari, Heizou, Childe, Alhaitham, Venti x (gn!) Reader [Fluff]

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

→ Kaeya teases you at every given opportunity. He drops the cheesiest and flirtiest lines with the widest smirk known to man, that make heat rise to your cheeks and make you want to bury your face in your hands. For one, he does so because he wants everyone to know you're his but also to see the absolutely adorable expression of yours when he flusters you. He is also not too shy to passionately kiss you in public either.

On the way home from the Tavern Kaeya pinned you against the next-best house wall and started peppering open-mouthed kisses from your lips over your jaw down to your collarbones. "Kaeya! We're in public, stop it!" you squealed. "Hmmm. No, I don't think I will... especially not when I notice what kind of effect I have on you."

→ Ayato is an absolute menace. As soon as he finds out you're putty in his hands whenever he makes any advances on you, he sees it as a personal challenge to provoke that reaction out of you as much as possible. How could he not when you always look so adorable? He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when you're out, or suddenly pulls you in to ravish your lips. If you look cute enough and if the mood strikes, he may even be so bold to do that out in public - after all everyone should know he is yours and you're his.

You felt your lover's arms wrap around your waist and a firm chest press against your back. He leans in to whisper all the terms of endearment in your ear that he is sure will get you flustered. "Ayato!" you reprimand. “You flirt in the most inconvenient situations, do you know that?”  “You know you love it.”

→ Tighnari is a master of sass and teasing. Just one look at his face is usually enough for you to tell if he is up to no good again. Whenever he has that signature smirk plastered across his lips, you know he has something on his mind again that you'd find yourself on the receiving end of.

With arms outstretched you fell into Tighnari's embrace and nuzzled against his chest. He gently tipped your chin up like he always did just before he was about to kiss you. So you slightly leaned in and closed your eyes in anticipation. Expecting his plush lips to unite with yours - but nothing happened. You hesitantly opened your eyes again only to see a devilish smirk on his face causing you to squirm in his embrace. "Why are you closing your eyes, are you tired, love?" "Nari! You're so mean!"

→ Heizou knows exactly the kind of effect he has on you and he absolutely abuses it whenever he can. Of course, always in a loving and never in a malicious manner. He just can't help thinking you're the cutest thing in the entire world when you squirm and get unbelievably flustered by his advances.

Heizou had been teasing you for the entire evening already and thanks to that, you had become so flustered you could barely even stand looking at him anymore. With the most prominent smirk on his lips, he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. But quick as you shoved him away again before he could utter a single word. "Oh shut up already!" "Make me."

→ Childe is someone whose love language is flirtatious teasing. Expect him to take every chance he gets to remind you of things that makes you avert your eyes and stumble over your words like there is no tomorrow. And if you plan to take a jab back at him - don't. You're only going to make things worse for yourself.

A sheer onslaught of teasing comments and pecks of his lips across your jawline and neck had turned you into a shy and flustered puddle. All you managed to get out were some incoherent giggles and the occasional whine for him to stop. "Ugh, you're so unbearable." you groan with a wide grin, eliciting the widest grin from the ginger himself. A teasing bite into your collarbone as well as the mischievous glint in his eyes let you know that whatever was about to come next would verbally knock you off your feet. And it did. "Oh? Is that so? That sure sounded different yesterday."

→ Alhaitham is generally not someone who'd immediately come to mind when you think about teasing. But he is a natural at it, thanks to his very blunt and straightforward demeanor. He can be an absolute tease and absolutely smug when you're his partner and as soon as he feels comfortable around you. Prepare to be met with hardcore sarcasm and playful teasing to rile you up or get you flustered. He never admitted it but he loves to know he can have that effect on you.

You looked across the room to where Alhaitham was sitting but instead of reading, he was just staring at you surreptitiously over the book that he was still holding in front of his face. Checking you out from head to toe, with an inkling of a smug smile painted across his lips. The realization that he had been staring at you and observing your every move starts to dawn on you and you had to turn away to hide your flustered face from him. "Archons, Haitham! How long have you been staring at me? I can't stand it when you do that!" you whine as you hide your face behind your hands. "Well if you can't stand it, you should get yourself a chair."

→ Venti knows how to push your buttons and he sure as hell exploits that every now and then. When he drags you to the Tavern with him he loves to pretend to become drunk and becomes extra clingy. The bard, who already has a ready tongue, would become even more outspoken. Lulling you with words of affection and physical touch until you melt in his arms and have to hide your abashed expression.

Venti stood up from his bar stool and summoned his lyre. He loudly cleared his throat as if he was preparing to proudly announce something - which he most certainly was about to do. You could see that mischievous glint in his eyes from a mile away. "Everyone, allow me to play a song for my wonderful second half over here. Because I think everyone needs to know how wonderful, beautiful, and patient they are. And especially cute when they're flustered, like right now." As the room fell silent, every gaze in the room darted to your form, which was slumped over the bar in a futile attempt to hide your face in shame.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always appreciated!

[uneditedidiot]

gold rush - jamie tartt x reader

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary: reader is the head physical therapist for AFC Richmond and ever since Jamie returned to the team and has proven himself a better man, you can’t help but harbor feelings for the pro footballer. Takes place during s3ep11. Based off these specific lyrics from the song ‘gold rush’ by Taylor Swift.

word count: 2.9k

Warnings: language - it’s jamie tartt, of course there’s language; declarations of undying love and a first kiss. :)

A/N: I used to write imagines back in like 2012 about One Direction so at least this is somewhat of a step up for me. But my first tumblr imagine so hopefully it’s not complete trash lol.

Part Two: this love is ours

But I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush

I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

You were kidding yourself. 

Jamie Tartt, the star of the team, the integral cog in Richmond’s new Total Football machine, the absolute adorable human – that’s who you were in love with? It was almost laughable. If you had told yourself two years ago that Jamie Tartt would be the object of your affection, you wouldn’t have believed a word of it. He had changed. He had changed immensely.

It was…embarrassing in a way. You weren’t embarrassed of him, but more of how you reacted when he was around. And fortunately (or quite unfortunately), he was around quite a bit. As the head physical therapist for the team, you saw most of the players quite often for some reason or another.

Of course, you had no problem interacting with others for their physical care. Sam Obisanya had somehow garnered an elbow injury from playing football as a kid and it had decided to continue to bother him throughout his adulthood. He’d usually stop everyday just to chat, if not work through some stretches for his arm. Jan Maas had a tendency to go down too hard on his left knee when running, so you saw him at least twice a week to lead him through some exercises. Dani Rojas, the sweet sweet man he was, would stop by your office every single morning just to say hello and to make sure his arch support inserts in his boots were fitting right. Colin and Isaac both seemed to suffer from the same achilles tendon strains but on opposite legs. You had no problem assessing their physical needs. You went on with your day like nothing happened.

But Jamie…he was a different story. Just making eye contact when he walked into your office made your cheeks go warm. And having to move his ankle around when you were assessing range of movement? Your entire face and neck would go pink. And that smile…that smile had you giggling and kicking your feet for the rest of the afternoon. 

The sass was another issue entirely. Boy, did that man have a MOUTH on him.

When you’d first started at Richmond with Ted and Beard, who’d brought you with them from the States, Jamie was an asswipe. Sometimes he’d barely acknowledge your presence when coming to get treatment. Other times he’d just sit in silence, his eyes following your every movement. At least twice he’d come in for medical help and he’d tried flirting with you. Back then, you’d had no interest in him at all.

It was when he returned that it was clear something in him had changed. You’d observed his new restraint he showed at training and on the field during matches. He was considerate of his teammates, passing them the ball more frequently and encouraging them on and off the field. Keeley had even said she hadn’t seen him with a new girl on his arm for a long while.

But ever since his return, he’d become more and more friendly with you. You’d grown to trust him completely. He was a true friend. Not only that, but the banter you two had was unmatched.

“Do you like the new tat?” he’d asked one day as you wrapped his ankle.

“What is it supposed to be?” you’d chuckled.

He looked almost offended. “It’s a rocketship.”

You’d stood, wrap in hand, attempting to hold back a laugh. 

He sighed. “Alright, go ahead. Tell me what you really think.”

“Jamie…it…it looks like…like a dick.”

“It does not look like a dick!”

“Yes it really does.”

“You’ve got vision problems.”

“No I don’t. You’ve got some issues if you think that’s a rocketship.”

“Well so do you if you think it looks like a fuckin’ dick!”

You finally let out the laughter you’d been holding in. You had scurried to the door, thrown it open, and yelled out. “Jamie Tartt had his own dick tattooed to his forearm!”

He’d immediately jumped off the medical table and wrapped his arms around you, attempting to pull you away from the open door. You’d held on to the frame, still laughing and yelling as he did so.

“Jamie has a dick tattoo! Jamie has a dick tattoo!”

He was laughing the whole time, screaming, “no I haven’t!” over you, trying to drown out your yells.

You’d found yourself falling. His eyes would gleam and twinkle in this way that was almost comforting. You’d have done anything to see the light in his eyes again after he’d left your office. It was almost intoxicating, but in a way that felt like home. And while your real home in the States was far away, the closer you’d grown to Jamie, the less you missed it.

It was terrifying. You knew what it would mean if you said something to him; or even admitted it to yourself, frankly. 

Jamie was a very well-known figure in the UK. He was a top footballer on a premier team that was making a huge comeback that season. He’d been on a popular reality dating television show (which, sure, he made an ass of himself on but it’s in the past) which had spread his name and face across screens that may not have tuned into the matches before. It obviously didn’t help that he was, in your opinion, one of the handsomest men you’d ever seen. 

And others clearly agreed with you. The amount of thirst tweets you’d seen online about him was quite overwhelming. So many people wanted to be the one for Jamie. To hold him, love him, do things to him that you’d never heard of before reading that tweet. They found his tendency to be a prick on the field very hot. And he kept it up, that’s for sure.

Not only that, he was splashed all over the tabloid headlines when Lust Conquers All was airing. Since then, he was a frequent face on front pages of any and all gossip websites. If you were official with him, the amount of hate you’d get, grainy and unflattering pictures online, and generally mean tweets from people who found Jamie hot would be like a tsunami and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about that. Granted, he’d actually have to agree to go out with you first and that seemed so impossible…

Despite his public persona, you knew his heart. And what a wonderful heart it was. He was kind, thoughtful, and empathetic. He was considerate and made sure to take care of others before himself. He was a firework in a dim sky.

And you hated him. You hated him for making you want to be with him. Everything he did sent a shock of love and loathing down every single vertebrae in your spine. It almost hurt.

It wasn’t until the team’s fated match against Manchester City in Manchester did you see a problem. And that problem was himself. Clearly he was not himself. The thought of his father showing up at the match was weighing heavily on his mind. His self-esteem was at an all-time low and the thought of facing his old team and their incredibly intense fanbase didn’t help, either.

You’d sat next to Roy with Keely on his other side during the showing of You’ve Got Mail. You could see just from Jamie’s body language that he wasn’t himself. 

You’d sighed as Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan confessed their undying love to each other on the big projection screen. Everyone around you had shed at least one tear, including Roy, but something in you felt numb to it. You had been too busy focusing on the rigid back-of-the-head of Jamie in the front row.

You’d watched in dismay as Jamie snuck out of the room, his hood pulled up over his head. You, Roy, and Keely had followed him all the way to mom’s house. You’d sat and had a delicious cookie made by Simon, his stepfather, and then toured his old childhood bedroom.

You sat on the small twin-sized bed, taking in everything around you. Jamie was the same now as he was as a kid – living and breathing football. The posters on the wall were mainly of famous footballers, including Roy, who had cursed at the sight of his old Chelsea portrait. Even Keeley had gasped when she saw the picture of herself topless with two footballs in front of her chest next to it.

Roy and Keeley flopped down next to you on the bed. They chatted for a moment as you stared off into space.

Everything you had been harboring for Jamie – every single emotion – seemed to hit you all at once. The situation at hand forced it all to the surface.

You loved Jamie Tartt.

It brought tears to your eyes. You sniffled, quickly wiping a hand to your cheek.

“What’s wrong, babes?” Keeley asked worriedly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You shook your head. Like she’d believe that for a second.

“Come on, out with it,” Roy demanded. “You’ve been almost as fucking miserable as Jamie this past week.”

You inhaled sharply, winding your fingers together awkwardly. Your voice was soft, trembling. “I’m in love with Jamie.”

Keeley smiled at you, then shared a knowing look with Roy.

“We know,” she replied gently.

Your eyes widened, meeting her gaze. “You do?”

“Halle-fucking-lujah,” sighed Roy. “Finally.”

“What do you mean, ‘finally?’” you retorted.

“It’s not like it’s been a fucking secret,” Roy grunted. “It’s clear you love the little prick.”

“He doesn’t…he doesn’t love me back, does he?” It was almost like you had dared yourself to even ask. What if he didn’t? What kind of hurt would that be?

You had expected Keeley to hug you sympathetically or even sigh, but instead…she giggled. “Not to break my promise or anything.” She shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, he loves you, too.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Okay, don’t be mean. You don’t need to make things up just to keep me from feeling rejected, Keeley.”

“She wouldn’t tell you that if it wasn’t fucking true,” said Roy. “And I know we came here for Jamie to speak with his mum, but you’d hate yourself if you didn’t fucking say something to him.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Now?”

“Now.”

Keeley agreed. “Yep, I think it’s gotta be tonight, babes. It’s perfect timing. His mum will help him feel better and you both admitting you’re in love?” She squealed and jumped up. “It’s gotta be now!”

“But he’s my best friend,” you replied quietly. “I don’t want it to ruin things.”

“It won’t ruin anything,” Roy shook his head. “If it’s meant to be…it’s fucking meant to be. Not that it’s any of my business.”

“He’s had a crush since he got back to Richmond,” Keeley added. “I know it will work out. Trust us. He’s become a new person and he’s the exact right person for you. You’re perfect for each other. I’m going to be that friend and pressure you to do this.”

You stood, if not somewhat shakily, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“You got this!” Keeley called after you as you exited Jamie’s childhood bedroom. 

You made your way down the small hallway and the narrow staircase, the air lingering with the scent of fresh baked goods as you descended. You could hear hushed voices coming from the living room. You tried to take soft steps as you approached the door.

“I don’t know, Mum. The best thing to ever happen to me?”

“It sounds like you’re in love.”

“But I’m scared.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you listened.

“Love isn’t supposed to be a walk in the park, Jamie. It can be scary. To put yourself out there on the line. To be vulnerable. To risk getting your heart ripped out and thrown in the rubbish.”

“I’m risking my best friend.”

“But will you regret it if you don’t?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I would die unhappy if I couldn’t tell them how I feel.”

Your feet moved before your brain could catch up. And then you saw him from right inside the doorway. His eyes. The gleaming. The twinkling. The feeling of comfortability. Of home.

He stood without taking his eyes off yours. There was a slight smile playing around his mouth. His hands went into their usual position, clasped and pulling on the bottom hem of his sweatshirt. 

Georgie also stood, but she grinned and quickly moved out of the room, saying to her son on the way out, “it’s worth it, love.”

All you could do in the moment was stand there, cheeks going pink under his gaze. 

“Erm…did you see me old bedroom?” he said sheepishly, breaking eye contact for a moment.

The start of this conversation somehow seemed to bring you back to the realm of the living. You chuckled. “Yes, I was a massive fan of the old Roy Kent poster you had up. And you know, all the small pictures of butts with thongs and such.”

It was his turn to go red. “Yeah, well, what can I say? Teenage boy hormones.”

“I don’t think it’s just teenage boy hormones, Jamie. That’s just you liking butts.”

You both shared another laugh before it went quiet again.

Now was your chance. Keeley and Roy had said Jamie was at least interested in you, so you needed to say something.

“Um…so, I…I was, uh, talking to Keeley and Roy upstairs,” you began, taking a couple steps toward him.

“Is that what you were doing? Talking? I’d have thought you might be having a threesome.”

You laughed again as he smirked proudly at his comment. But his smile faltered as you seemed to go back to a state of self-conscious anxiety. Jamie’s heartbeat sped up. Usually you would’ve come back with another witty comment.

“What were ya talkin’ about?” he wondered seriously.

“I was just telling them about this…guy I’m interested in.”

The warmth in Jamie’s eyes slowly seemed to be dying like embers of a fire slowly burning down.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And I was telling them a little about him.”

Jamie nodded, eyes cast down at the floor. He feigned interest. “And what’s he like, then?”

You remembered what Georgie had just told Jamie moments before. Love is scary, but it’s worth the risk.

You took another step closer to him, feeling more confident now. “He’s really sweet. He’s considerate and thoughtful and is willing to learn and grow.” 

Jamie nodded again, still half-heartedly listening.

“And he’s funny and makes the best jokes. He can laugh at himself and how dumb he used to be. Although I’d laugh at myself too if I were that much of a prick once. Even turned a whole plan around at Amsterdam once, the idiot.”

His eyes were now back on yours, mouth slightly open in disbelief. The grin seemed to spread over his lips as you continued talking.

“And he’s generous and willing to take care of others despite his own needs. He puts on quite the show at his job though. Oh my god, he can be a bit of a show off, but he’s actively working on it. He always seems to get this like weird ankle injury every once in a while, too. And don’t get me started on his dumb ass tattoos. There’s this one that he says is a rocketship but I SWEAR it’s a penis and –”

“I love you.” 

Your words are put on halt by the admittance that Jamie has just put out into the world forever.

He repeated himself with confidence. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Your declaration comes not a second after he’s spoken. And everything seems to spill out at once. “For months now. I’ve tried to hold it in, but I can’t any longer. You make me nervous, Jamie Tartt. You make me blush just by walking into the fucking room. I couldn’t stand touching you because it made my stupid fingers turn red. Your smile alone could light a thousand candles at once. Your laugh could be a grammy-award winning song. Everybody wants you, but you…you are my everything.”

All he says is your name. And then he closes the gap between you two.

His hands go to your waist, his lips find yours. Your arms wind around his neck, hands finding the base of his hairline, weaving your fingers through the strands. There is no space left between your bodies.

Your mouths move in sync, slowly and softly, with a passion you’d never experienced before.

His hand moves from your waist to cup your cheek, turning his head slightly to deepen the kiss. His other hand grasps the fabric of your t-shirt, clinging to you incessantly.

When you pull away for a second, he whispers your name in a way that sends starlight cascading through your very bones. 

“Jamie,” you whisper, “you’re my best friend and I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He smiles. “I think your timing is perfect. Just like you.”

You move to press your lips to his again when Simon calls out from the kitchen.

“Anybody want pie?”

Georgie makes a reappearance in the doorway. She shrieks in delight. “See, love? I told you! What did I tell you?”

She wrestles you away from Jamie and gives you the biggest and tightest hug of your life.

“Mum, you’re gonna squish ‘em!” Jamie protests good-naturedly, pulling back on your shoulder. He slings an arm around your waist, keeping you close.

You knew Jamie would be okay at tomorrow’s match even if his dad did show up. 

You loved each other. And that was all he needed.

[cerise-on-top]

Love Languages

What is says in the title. I have no requests right now and I thought now would be a good time to write these, I've been meaning to for over a month now, I think. General fluff, relationship to reader is romantic. GN!reader. Only thing I can think of would be one somewhat dirty joke. But it's literally just Alejandro teaching reader a phrase in Spanish and that's about it.

Price: Acts of Service. He’s been in the military for a while now and, while he may be used to giving orders these days, he remembers the days well where a superior would yell at him to do something. Price is well aware that the chances of survival go up tremendously when everyone is working together as a team, regardless of whether you’ve been given a command to help your pal out or not. It’s almost subconscious, actually. You drop something without you noticing? He’ll pick it up, trailing behind you while carrying it. The dishes need to be done? He’s on it immediately, maybe whistling a song even while he does so. You’re in need of medication? Mans notices when you’re running out before you do and always makes sure to get the prescription and or the meds if he’s able to. And if he can’t then he’ll remind you to pick them up, going with you. As a captain, he’s a busy bee, always filing reports and doing whatnot, so him taking the time out of his day to do something, no matter what, isn’t as small a thing as one might think. It doesn’t even matter how small, repetitive and tedious the task is, he’ll do it just for you. Won’t make a big deal out of it, though, just you noticing he did something for you is more than enough. Give him a kiss in return while thanking him and he’ll be the happiest man alive as well.

Gaz: Words of Affirmation. While it’s hard to pin down one love language for him, he absolutely adores making you feel loved using his words. He can be a cheeky bastard, sassing just about anyone he knows he’ll get away with relatively unharmed, always knowing what to say to make just about any situation go from dreadful to a bit more humorous, for the most part. Gaz does well with words, plus he can also read facial expressions very well. While there might be some guesswork involved from time to time, if you let him, he’ll find the right words fairly quickly. Doesn’t matter if you just want to be told how handsome you look in your new suit, or if you want to be comforted after being let down one too many times. Finding the right time to be silent is also an art, Gaz has mastered it. It comes natural to him, speaking to his loved ones, that is. If he can, he’ll accompany his sweet words with other love languages as well. It’s not uncommon for him to shower you with compliments while twirling you around, giving you a beautiful bracelet, or simply putting his head on your shoulder. This man will hype you up, no matter how insecure you feel. But don’t ever doubt his words, he’s as sincere as it gets with you. If you do then he will make an entire PowerPoint presentation on why you’re as amazing as you are. Has no qualms about holding said presentation either, by the way.

Ghost: Acts of Service. Don’t get me wrong, he loves touching you and getting to touch you, if he could he’d always intertwine his fingers with yours, but he’s not always sure if he should touch you. Would it make you comfortable? Do you even like being touched right now? Sometimes he might be self-indulgent, but it’s not too often. However, performing just about any task for you, he knows that won’t upset you. The trees and hedges need to be cut? You don’t have time to go grocery shopping? Can’t beat this seemingly impossible video game boss? Yeah, he’s got your back. He’s not too shabby at most things in life. Ghost can notice and memorize things very quickly, he’s got enough experience in life to know what to do in most situations plus he loves you dearly, so he’d literally crawl his way to Eden and pick the fruits of the tree of knowledge if you demanded it. If you ask him to do something with you, though, then I can tell you he’s smitten. Loves grocery shopping with you, loves it if you hand him the wrench and hold the flashlight while he repairs something, loves feeding the strays outside your home with you. If you ask him to do something together then he gets the feeling of his affection for you being reciprocated, so never be ashamed to ask him for something. You could literally just ask him for a hug and his heart would soar in the heavens.

Soap: Physical Touch. He grew up with a loving mother who would smother him in hugs whenever she could. He didn’t particularly grow out of that either, he’ll still return any hug his mother gives him to this day. Having grown up in a very physically affectionate household, he took after his family and thus loves touching you in any way he can. Whether it’s ruffling your hair or putting your foreheads together, he just loves being close with his loved ones. Even his friends he’s very touchy feely with. It’s reassuring to him, feeling his loved ones, their warmth, hell, even feeling their pulse is nice. It’s not a given in his line of work, after all. Friend or lover, doesn’t matter, he’ll give you a hug, he’ll cuddle you, he’ll playfight with you. Has a very hard time toning it down and his heart breaks a bit every time someone asks him to not touch them as much, he genuinely can’t help it. When he’s lonely he becomes extra affectionate and isn’t afraid to ask you for some cuddles either, they’re very calming to him. If you return his affection, even if it’s awkward for the both of you, he becomes very happy, almost beaming with joy if you’re not a touchy person normally. Initiate a hug for once and he’ll never want to let you go again. But beware, his hugs are extremely tight. If it wasn’t as embarrassing, I’m sure he’d sleep cuddling something as well. However, it’s not the most manly thing to sleep with a plushie, so he settles for another pillow mostly. Will invite you to take a nap with him, though.

Alejandro: Physical Touch. He’s among the people of his culture who are more tactile. It’s a similar situation to Soap, he learned that from home. While he may not be as prone to being touchy with a friend, unless you’re very close, once you’re lovers he loves nothing more than having his hands on you. Not even in a dirty way, he’s more than content just having his hand on your shoulder too. Will give you massages, lots of kisses and will generally just pull you close to him. Might pick you up and spin you around from time to time as well. He’s a strong lad, so I can assure you, he will be able to pick you up. Not very fond of PDA for privacy reasons, but once you’re home alone, he’ll be all over you. Find a reason to touch him back and he’ll smother you. While he can respect you if you don’t like being touched, he will be sad a bit, but will find alternatives. He’s a very affectionate guy with the ones he loves. For what it’s worth, if you’re not a touchy person and can’t speak Spanish very well, you can say some nonsense and it’ll make him smile every time. Though, beware, he’s not above teaching you things such as “estoy caliente” either. It won’t lead to anything, but he will crack up whenever you say it to Rudy, with the latter being severely disappointed in Alejandro. You trying to speak or learn Spanish shows him that you’re trying to put in effort into learning his culture, which he can appreciate, naturally.

Rodolfo: Quality Time. Much like Ghost, he’ll love you forever if you give him hugs on the regular, maybe a peck on the cheek too if you’re together, but he won’t force anything. It’s ingrained in him that men really shouldn’t be weak, though, ironically, you can see him be just a tad bit softer with lads. A close second for his love language would be gift giving. He earns enough money to buy you something nice from time to time. But other than that, he doesn’t have too much time either, and what little time he does have he wants to spend with you. Sure, he can’t exactly make time for you during a mission, but regardless of how tired he might be, he will drag himself out of bed just to be with you five minutes longer. One activity he particularly enjoys the day after he came home from deployment would be simply taking a nap together. Doesn’t matter if you’re cuddling or not, though he would prefer if you would. He gets to rest, you get to rest, both of you are happy. Besides, whenever he gets to be near you he won’t have to worry about anything happening to you. Considering he’s confident enough in his abilities to keep bad people away from you, he likes having you close as well. You don’t even need to be talking, it could just be the both of you cooking together and eating afterwards, that’s enough to make him content. He can tell when you’re doing your best to make time for him as well, and it warms his heart every time.

Valeria: Gift Giving. She’s the undoubted queen of not having much time for anything at all, and she can’t always make time for you, or most people, either, which is why she’ll opt for other means of showing her affection. While some gifts may take time, those being the special ones, it’s normally something quick she can get you. Some new clothes, some sweets, or something else entirely. She rarely ever gets to give them to you in person, regardless of how badly she wants to see your beaming and surprised face, but she never forgets an important date, her memory is just good like that. Your anniversary, your birthday, your pet’s birthday, she has it all memorized and will get you a gift accordingly. You don’t have to give her anything in return, though, her tastes are very expensive. If you really wanna show her how much you adore her in a way she can easily comprehend, do her some favors. Clean the house, make her a meal, give the soldiers asking for her some misdirections so they won’t catch her. It’s not often she likes someone, much less actually trusting them, but she can appreciate someone, who genuinely wants to help her out, even in the small ways. She might sometimes think that you’re just trying to get a favor out of her, but if you genuinely never ask for anything big even she will doubt her theory and will trust you more. Love goes through the stomach, cook her a delicious meal every once in a while and she’ll love you even more.

Graves: Words of Affirmation. However, it should be noted that that’s just his main way of showing affection, he shows affection in every other way as well, very much so even. It’s hard to pin him down as well, he changes it up every once in a while. But what always stays the same is him giving you small compliments throughout the day. If he can’t tell you how much you’re rocking the garments in person, he’ll leave you a handwritten note to build you up. Very chatty, unlike Gaz, he loves hearing himself speak and will stop at nothing to attain the feeling of just saying something. Considering he’s from the southern part of the United States, he throws around petnames like it’s nothing. If you like it, good, if you don’t, he won’t particularly stop either. In fact, he might get more cheesy and cliche with them as well. Not as eloquent as other people might be, he’s a commander, not a poet, but just as sincere. You look fucking awesome, darlin’. They should make a Met Gala just for you. Will also tease you in a loving way. Bullying his loved ones into blushing is his most genuine way of showing love. Once he teases you, you can be certain this guy really likes you. The formalities are finally over, now he can be genuine and honest with you. Give him strong reactions and he’ll love you even more. Don’t try to fluster him back, though. Conversations like those are competitions and he’s the most sore loser on the planet.

Alex: Physical Touch. Words of Affirmation and Acts of Service are also strong with this one, but I’m limiting myself to one here. As I’ve said a few times already, he loves, loves, loves getting to hug and cuddle you. If you’re together then he has no shame in showing PDA either. Will initiate physical touch, will ask you for physical touch, he’s not ashamed at all. A guy needs what he needs, after all. Even just small touches are more than welcome with him. Hand on your shoulder, his fingers combing through your hair, deliberately leaning against you when he’s tired. Snuggle up to him after a rough day, he’s so gentle with you and will make you feel as loved as he can, either by distracting you with the top ten list of top ten lists of what he loves about you, or by watching a VOD on YouTube with you. Even if you aren’t too touchy, make an effort to initiate physical contact with him, he notices it immediately. Won’t push you, he might stop if you really hate physical contact, but will make it up to you with other love languages. Give him a kiss and he’ll rest his head on your shoulder, with eyes bigger than that of an anime girl. The heart irises are there too, of course. If he’s had a rough day, then please hug him, or better yet, cuddle him. It makes him feel a lot better, drifting off to sleep with your comforting touch. This guy would set a forest ablaze just so you can feel some warmth.

Farah: Quality Time. Unless you’re part of her liberation force, she likely has next to no time for you either. And even then, time alone with her is sparse. You can make plans with her, but chances are she’ll have the revolution on her mind, what her next step should be and how her enemy might prevent her from getting what she wants this time. It’s hard for her too, trust me, but she needs to be prepared, always. It’s not often she actually can do so, but she’ll try to make plans with you without her mind wandering. She’s usually so focused, but also hyper aware of the bad things that could happen. So, sometimes she sits herself down with you and thinks of only the things she wants to do with you. Order takeout, cuddle and maybe read some books as well. Despite not usually being one for things like that, evenings like those will be the only times she’ll try to take better care of herself. By which I mean, if you have a skincare routine, she’ll try it out with you, asking you questions about what this and that might be and what it does. If you have a face mask that evening, she’ll laugh a bit, but won’t be opposed to trying it out either. It’s rather sudden when she does have time, but it’s time well spent. Show her affection in any way, she’ll always appreciate it. Give her a kiss, tell her how much you love her, buy her some fresh baked goods, she’ll fall in love with you all over again, again and again. Once the fighting is done, she’ll repay you with everything she can, give you whatever it is she has to offer and make sure you can feel just as loved.

Laswell: Gift Giving. She’s not particularly one for physical affection, she much rather shows it through things that reminded her of you. That nail polish looked like it would go well with your new outfit, you’ve been eyeing that necklace for a long time, using a scooter to get around the city was something you’ve been into for a while. She always remembers every single small detail that might be important later on. You like Sanrio. You like motorcycles. You like sports. Because her memory is amazing, she’ll always get you something you’ll like. Even when you forgot something or haven’t thought about it in a while, she’ll remind you. Especially nice things. Brains are always biased towards the bad, she wants you to see the good in yourself and your surroundings. But aside from those two things, she’s rather versatile as well. Her words can make even your biggest insecurities temporarily go away. She isn’t always eloquent, but she can be if she wants to be. Quality Time is a given to her. If she can and you want to as well, she’ll spend every minute of her wake with you. Even when you aren’t around to do any of it and she has time to do so, the dishes will be washed, the clothes in the washing machine will be neatly hung up and the living room will be clean. Now, if you want to make her feel loved, give her some genuine words. She hears lies on the daily and knows when people are being insincere, but seeing you give her a genuine smile while telling her that she looks like a goddess in her new dress sort of does something to her. You don’t need to use the prettiest words, just say what you think, tell her how much you love her, that’s all she really needs.

Nikolai: Acts of Service. Another wildcard, he’ll do whatever makes his partner happy. But if we’re talking about his genuine self, the one that doesn’t do whatever makes you happy, then it’s Acts of Service. It’s unprompted too, for the most part. Whatever he can find out, that makes your life easier, he’ll do. He’s a real handyman for all sorts of things and in real good shape too despite his age. Mans can repair a helicopter, he can do the same for your heater in winter. Never be afraid to walk up to him and complain to him about something not working, he’ll fix it himself in record time if you let him. Doesn’t mind his hands getting dirty either, that’s just what happens. Big things, small things, doesn’t matter. Let him take out the trash or let him fix the engine of your car, he can do both. Hell, if you need someone taken care of in the most brutal way possible, if you need some dirt on someone, he’s also your guy. If he really likes you, then chances are he’ll do some of it for free as well. He’s competent enough in just about everything, he has the experience, so whatever it is you need done, he’ll do it. But if you ever were to do him a favor like that as well, he’ll be overjoyed. Most of the time showing affection is subconscious to him, but once it clicks, and it will fairly quickly since he’s a smart cookie, he’ll give you the most loving smile. You don’t have to kill someone for him, just baking him a delicious pie is more than enough. You make his life easier as it is, but the occasional baked good or gifting him a nice bomber jacket won’t hurt either.

König: Acts of Service. I guess Acts of Service just come with age. Not too big on showing physical affection, not the best with his words either since he can still get nervous around his loved ones from time to time. Another big contender would simply be Quality Time. He much prefers not having to talk all the time, so you knitting while he reads the news would be ideal for him. Being near each other in silence is the best thing he can imagine, that way he can show you how much he loves you without straining himself too much. Acts of Service because he’s old enough to realize that if you really do love someone, you’ll make their life easier in any way, shape or form possible, even if it’s just putting chicken nuggets in the oven just before they come home from work. Besides, despite it being tedious, he doesn’t hate cleaning as much as some other people do. It’s calming to him, seeing his living space be decluttered. So, it helps him and it gives you less work to do at the end of the day. Another way he shows affection is by warding off creeps with his presence. Being around you makes him protective over you. Now, you can spend your time with him in silence, or just occasionally talk, he’ll eat that right up and love it, but you can also give him the occasional hug or cuddle. He won’t mind, but don’t overdo it. He’s not a particularly cuddly person, but he will appreciate you standing on boxes just so he can lean into your shoulder for once, if you’re shorter than him. It’s the small things that count. Another thing he’ll always enjoy is you maybe knitting or crocheting him a scarf. He’s not sensitive to the cold, but he won’t mind being warm either. Spray it with your perfume or cologne too and he could just pick you up and give you a little kiss.

[prettyboypistol]

Mercs reaction to safe word use?

Mers Reacting to Safeword Use! (+18)

scout

confused for a second, then realizes that you said the safeword

literally jolts back and starts rapid fire apologizing, asking what you didn't like/what he shouldn't do

would probably not want to continue the hot n heavy aspect, but would be down for lovey-dovey intimacy(be it sex or just cuddling)

soldier

literally freezes when you say it, then gets close and whispers "did i scare you?" in the most vulnerable voice you've ever heard from him as he kisses your cheeks slowly in apology over and over again

feels super guilty about it, but once you explain why you used the safeword, he's a little relieved that he didn't terrify you

kisses and hugs before going back to business!

pyro

pauses as they try to understand what you said- that word didn't sound happy... OH SHIT

lets you make the first move to them, scared that they might scare you, but their hands are up and they're clearly concerned for you.

probably too worried that the stress will cause a relapse into Pyroland, so no more sex, but you get a super loving partner to cuddle up to!

Demoman

the chillest reactor you're gonna get.

"Oh, sorry mate." and pulls away "you down to keep going or was that too much?"

He's so down to go your speed after that, but if you just want to stop a certain action and for him to keep his energy, he can absolutely do that!

Heavy

the second chillest reaction, but he assumes that you've changed your mind about sleeping with him because a lot of people reject him because of how big he is down there (and everywhere else, but that doesn't bother him really.)

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

After a little talking, you two are perfectly fine again and sharing kisses before back to having fun.

Engie

somehow worse than Scout

panics about hurting you, apologizes for being a brute and coming off demanding/not being a gentleman, he doesn't know whether to cover his face with his hands or hug you

Sadly it ends with you mostly comforting him haha, he's just worried he hurt or scared you! He's terrified of you being intimidated of him!

Spy

Third chillest reaction, mainly due to his sass factor.

He won't demean you for using the safe word, but he will crack a joke like "Oh, can't handle the heat? Alright love, we can turn it down a bit."

Doesn't check in on you, but intrinsically knows what you safeworded about due to body language and context. He doesn't make a big deal out of it- safewords are normal to him. It's not an issue

Medic

a little upset he scared you, but also upset that he couldn't go full crazy yk? Like of course you take priority, but he wasn't going to actually inject you with horse steroids!!! (maybe)

Abides by your boundaries and kisses it better

Lowkey wants to talk about it later but doesn't know how to bring it up

Sniper

the most INSECURE MF

if you safeword with sniper, he immediately disengages and pulls away out of shame and self-doubt that he can please you or have sex with you right

he apologizes and gives you comfort, but it's eating away at him inside that "he can't even fuck right"

[rafedaddy01]

hiii i have a rafe cameron smut x f!reader where the reader and rafe are fighting because a girl was flirting with Rafe and the reader got jealous. but since Rafe is being super chill, and making it obvious that he only loves the reader, the reader gets mad and makes him sleep on the couch, but in the middle of the night when she is hungry, she goes to the kitchen while she’s waiting for her food to get warmed up in the microwave, wrapped his arms around her waist and apologizes and eats her out on the kitchen counter and then takes her upstairs and fucks her til the morning (praise kink, eating out, shower sex, riding…)

Warnings: insecurity, smut, oral, language, sexual acts

A/n: I hope this is good 🤷‍♀️

I stood a few feet away as I watched this girl grip my boyfriends arm while laughing like a horse at something she said. Rafes reaction on the other hand was neutral, I hated when he’d let girls touch him and he knew it yet he made no effort to stop her, even if he wasn’t flirting back with her it was still infuriating to watch him let other girls touch him.

I stomp off with a huff like a toddler throwing a fit, which I have every right to do.

Rafe follows and we get in the car to go home.

He says nothing until I speak up.

“What the hell was that back there?” I ask annoyed.

“What was what?” He says nonchalantly like he didn’t just let another girl grope him.

“T-that girl! She was touching you all over!” I say throwing my hands around like a crazed person. I can’t help it, Rafe is the love of my life and he is so perfect and I just feel so average I’m just afraid to lose him.

“Baby..” he starts, letting a exhausted breath out.

“No. Don’t baby me” I sass back as we pull into our driveway.

“I don’t want you in the bed tonight, sleep on the couch” I jump out of the passenger side and slam the car door as I storm towards the house and unlock it.

Okay maybe kicking him out of the room is a bit harsh but we’ve had this talk multiple times. Every time we go out it’s a different girl and although he doesn’t flirt back with him he doesn’t stop them from touching his hair or face or chest or arms and it’s heartbreaking to see that from the side. He knows that and he still allows it, I’m just fed up.

I get cozy in bed and start dozing off but something in my mind won’t let me rest properly. I start tossing and turning and with a frustrated sign I scramble out of bed in my thigh length t-shirt and stride to the kitchen for something to eat.

I try to be quiet so I don’t wake Rafe up, I don’t have the energy to continue fighting.

I put my leftover lasagna in the microwave and lean on the counter as I wait.

I jump when two strong arms hug me from behind.

“I’m so sorry baby” his deep sleep voice speaks in my ear, followed by mini kisses to my exposed neck. “Rafe..” I start to say, but he knows my weaknesses and starts sucking on my sweet spot that’s on my shoulder.

“Shhh” he says between kisses, “let me show you how sorry I am”

He flips me over and perches me on the counter I was just leaning on.

“Rafe, what are y-“

He captures my lips with his and cuts off my sentence.

His tongue dives into my mouth and down my throat, I moan into his mouth and he moans back.

His hands grip my hair and tilt my head before one snakes down to my panties and pulls them down, throwing them on the ground.

He separates my legs and toys with my slick folds. One finger sliding between them and then a second.

He pulls his lips away and rests him forehead against mine.

“I love you, y/n. More than anything. And I’m sorry I made you think any less” just as the last word slips off his tongue his finger dips inside me and I gasp.

He starts pumping slowly and increasing the speed before adding a second one.

Before I know it I’m laid back on the counter with my legs spread wide and Rafes kneeled down.

His tongue licks and slurps at my cunt while his two fingers pump in and out.

“Oh shit! Fuck fuck f- Rafe!” I moan a mixture of curses and Rafes as my climax approaches.

“Shit, you taste heavenly.” Rafe groans as he pulls back but still pumps lazily as he watches my pussy slurp up his fingers with each thrust.

“Fuck! I love you so much and I love this beautiful cunt”

He pulls his fingers out and grips both my thighs, pulling me closer as he dives back in. Devouring me until my legs shake and I cum on his face with a scream. “Shit! Fuck! Rafe!”

I pant as he cleans me up gently with his tongue.

He stands up and helps me stand on wobbly knees. “Bed?” He asks raising one brow.

I roll my eyes but smirk as he grins and leads me upstairs.

Knowing Rafe, that was just the start to the night.

It in fact was.

As we got to our room Rafe throws me on the bed and pounces on me. He strips himself of his boxers and rips open a condom. He slips it on and aligns himself with me.

Before I can say anything he thrusts in and I yelp as pain and pleasure take over my body.

“Shit… you feel so good, so fucking tight. Holy shit” Rafe groans as he thrusts harder.

“Fuck, rafe. Holy s- that feels soooo gooood” I moan and grip my tits as he watches and continues thrusting faster and harder.

“I-I’m gonna c-cum” my head starts rolling to the side as I grip the sheets and tense up.

“Fuck!” Rafe shouts as I clamp around his cock.

“Shit baby, cum” he tells me

I do what he says and my orgasm takes over my body as Rafe releases his deep in me and pulls out. He disposed of the condom before coming back and licking up the mess I made.

I hum in satisfaction as I play with his hair.

“I love you so much. I’m sorry that I let that girl touch me tonight, it won’t ever happen again”

“Baby, it’s okay. I forgive you” I say as he tilts his head and looks at me, his lips curve into a smirk and I already know what that means.

“Yeah? Wanna be a good girl and show me how much you forgive me?” He hovers over me as his lips connect to mine for a passionate kiss.

He knows I love it when he calls me a good girl. Any praise he gives me I eat up.

“What can I do” I say fluttering my lashes.

“Turn around, on all fours” he orders me and I obey.

He spanks my ass and I groan as the pain mixes with pleasure.

“I’m gonna fuck this perfect ass till the morning and your gonna be a good girl and take it, right?” He grips my ass and massages it.

“Mhmm” I bite my lip and tilt my head back as one of his fingers toys with my hole. He starts working it in and I tense up, he reminds me, “be my good little girl and relax”

He finally fits two fingers in and once I’m relaxed enough he pulls them out. “Shit this is gonna feel so good baby” he tells me.

We’ve done this before but he’s never actually fit his whole length inside me, I always tense up and get nervous. But the orgasms I get from feeling him raw inside me are amazing!

Rafe grabs the lube from the drawer and slaps a load of it on his cock before spreading some on my hole. He positions himself and slowly pushes the tip in “what a good girl” “good girl” “such a good girl” “my good girl”

That praise makes my knees weak but I always obey.

“Good girl, baby” he pushes in and then out. He starts going faster “reach down and touch your self baby” I do what he says and it feels amazing.

“I-I’m gonna cum” I say with a cry as the emotions and overstimulation I’m feeling takes over my body. “Cum, cum for me baby” he says as he grunts and slams back in

We both cum and he pulls out slowly before turning me over and cuddling me.

He holds me tight as we catch out breaths, “I’m not done with you yet”

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism @drewstarkeysbae @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx

[writefandoms]

Love Thy Body (Comm)

Adrian Tepes x Female!Reader (smut)

Summary: Adrian Tepes is in dire need of some good ol’ fashion loving.

Word Count: 1.9k

The dhampir of Wallachia was a man known by the name Alucard. 

The opposite of the evil Dracula, he’s seen as the people's savior. The one who will destroy the mad vampire and seal him to rest in his coffin for all eternity. 

But the old stories were just that: stories. Nothing but old wise tales passed around village to village. 

The real Alucard wasn’t the opposition to anyone. He was simply a man. A man who had lost those dear to him in the span of one long nightmare. One that could only end once he drove a stake into his own fathers heart. 

When you looked at this strong hero, you didn’t see a man. No- you saw a crying child longing for his mother and father. 

Adrian wore his scars with great sadness.

From the slice across his chest- given to him from his own father. To the burns around his wrists- given to him by those he entrusted with his body and soul. 

There was no savior, only a wounded child. 

Adrian Tepes was a beautiful man. No one could deny it. 

Even when he spoke with pure arrogance and sass, his golden eyes and sharp jawline were bound to make even the strongest of wills shatter at his looks. 

Upon your first meeting, you were very close to clocking him in his perfect nose. His sharp tongue and know-it-all attitude, made it impossible to not seethe with rage. 

But as you spoke with the man, you began to see past the beauty of his face. Looking into the eyes of a broken creature, longing for someone to hold him- but to scared to open himself to others. Fear of betrayal outweighed his need for compassion. 

The first time you kissed was quite a surprise for both of you. Tension was high after a fierce battle with a few night creatures. One moment your locking eyes, the next your pressed against him in a heated embrace. 

You both swore it was from the heat of battle, even when you can't help thinking about how soft his lips were. 

One broken promise later, you find each other stripped down and in each other’s embrace. No- not quite actually. 

You’re stripped naked, Adrian is only missing his cloak. 

As unfair as you think it is, the orgasms that Adrian delivers are enough to keep your complaints to yourself. 

You thought nothing of his tendency to remain mostly clothed during your heated exchanges. Usually your mind is to busy being blown to care. But tonight would be different. 

“Strip.”

Adrian simply freezes, suddenly unsure where to put his hands on your exposed body. 

“I beg your pardon?” Ever the linguistic, but still playing dumb. 

“Ya’ speak English or not? I said strip.” Your legs shut, blocking his hands or wandering eyes from your privates. 

“I’ve never had to-“

“Aye, I’m naked as the day I was born, yet you’re still in your fancy boots. It’s not fair!” Arms folded like your scolding him, you pick up a pillow to block your chest from his view. “No more fucking until I get to see your bits!”

It’s his turn to scowl now, sitting back on his knees, on the mattress. 

“Language.”

“Stop changing the subject, strip or no more fun time!”

“Fun time?” His lips twitch slightly, a smirk forming on his face. 

Not liking his blatant disregard for his request, you tug a spare sheet around your shoulders to cover your bare body. 

“Fine.” Dragging yourself to your feet, you turn from him, “Good night.”

It doesn’t take him long to call you back, not even two seconds in fact. 

“Don’t leave.” His tone is new, almost fragile. Like if you raised your voice he’d shatter. “Please.”

Clasping your sheet dress, you turn towards him, but wait for him to continue. He doesn’t speak, only reaches a hand out, a proverbial olive branch. 

Who are you to deny this beauty of a man. 

Adrian cups your hand so gently, tugging you towards him. He’s sitting at the foot of the bed, spreading his legs to fit you between them. His eyes level with your chest. 

He’s peering up at you with a look that you can’t quite pinpoint. Definitely lust, but with a twinge of something else. 

Pulling your hand downward, he leads you to his button up. Your fingers follow his to the first button, his hands slip away, but the invitation remains. 

Uncertainty weighs your fingers down, slowly unbuttoning the first one. Only when he nods do you pick up the pace, eager to see more of him. Even the small sliver of visible pale flesh has you excited. 

But that excitement is quickly dashed once you catch sight of the large scar branding his near perfect skin. He must regard your sadness as disgust because he pulls back. 

The look on his face of pure disdain- but you know it’s not directed towards you. 

“Satisfied?” Is all he spits at you, eyes glaring at the wall behind you. 

Lifting a hand, your fingers dance along the scar tissue. Only able to journey so far before his hand grips your wrist and halts your motion. 

“Don’t-“ His grasp weakens, shoulders slumping, “-don’t pity me.”

Allowing your hand to pull free, you begin your conquest once again. This time planting both hands firmly against his chest, before leaning down planting a chaste kiss against his lips.

It’s soft. Softer than either of you’ve ever been with one another. 

Adrian takes a moment but returns the sweet gesture. Lips working against yours, like two puzzle pieces. 

You don’t give him a chance to think before pushing your body weight onto him, successfully landing him on his back. 

Despite being caught off guard, he’s still quick enough to land on his elbows. 

“Bloody vampire speed.” You grumble, but refuse to let him stump this small victory. 

Latching your lips on his jaw, you revel in the gasp that leaves him. Adventure further down the column of his throat, leaving small bites and kisses in your wake. 

The subtle pleasures must be enough for him to lower his guard once again, slowly laying flat on his back. His hands fist the sheets beneath him, claws unconsciously ripping the fabric. 

Noticing this loss of control you take the opportunity to lighten the mood. “Tsk. That’s silk, Mr. Tepes.”

Moving back to lock eyes with him, you’re relieved to see him roll his eyes. 

“I can always buy new ones.”

“Oh? Trying to impress me with your riches?” Hands spread on his chest, you push yourself into an upright position, straddling his waist. 

Adrian’s hands move from the sheets, securing themselves onto your hips. 

“Are you only straddling me because of my possible riches?” The grip on your hip gives him leverage to grind against your bare crotch, drawing a low moan from you. 

“Trust me, it’s not just your money that keeps me here.” You trail a hand down his chest, raking your nails a little harsher as you reach the sharp v-line, leading to the tent in his pants. 

“Y-your- ahhh…vile creature.” His moans only add to the heat between your legs, making you unconsciously rub against his bulge. 

“An’ you’re too sexy for your own good.” Your eyes admire the sight of him beneath you. 

Pale skin, ripped muscles, beautiful face, all for you. 

“Quiet.” Is all he can muster in a weak defense, but the pink tint on his cheeks is a dead give away. 

“Not until I make up for all the times you hid this work of art from me.”

Hands run down his bare chest, fingers trying to memorize every crack and crevice. His breathing hitches when you trace his scar, skin more sensitive than the rest. 

Leaning down you catch a pink nipple between your lips, giving a half hearted suck. His reaction is a mixture of surprise and pleasure, back arching a fraction and fingers twitching. 

“Heathen…” he manages to groan with faux anger, not convincing due to the pink still tinting his cheeks. 

“Whore.” You grin back up at him, rolling his nipple between your teeth now. 

“Hng-” It’s adorable really- watching him struggle to keep his cool demeanor up. 

Your mouth remains latched to his nipple, hand wandering down his arm, pausing at his wrist. Even with your soft grip around it has tension rushing through his muscles. Pulling his wrist a bit, you feel slight resistance before he allows you to drag his hand towards your face. Still hovering over his chest, you place a soft kiss on the dark scar that resembles a bracelet. 

“You’re beautiful,” you sit up to straddle him once again, while hoisting his other wrist to your lips. “So beautiful it’s nearly scary.”

He’s breathless as he lays back and watches you plant kiss after kiss along his scars. 

The grinding of your hips against his catches him by surprise. 

“Oh!” The half vampire gasps, mouth opening revealing two razor sharp fangs. 

His hands are led down your neck, past your chest, landing on your hips. Hot friction burns between your arousal and his, successfully leaving a wet spot on his pants. 

“Please let me show you how badly I need you…” your voice loses any confidence, taking on a breathy, whiny tone. 

Your eyes lock, his half lidded golden orbs staring at you with a near predatory gaze. One hand drops from your hip and slides between your legs.

“Ah! Adrian-” Your cries only make his fingers move more, direct contact making your thighs clench. 

Moving up a bit, unconsciously giving his long, attentive, fingers better access. His fingers are slightly sticky with your arousal, taking said juices and rubbing it around your hole. 

“This- mmm… I wanna be in c-control!” As angry as you try to sound, you can’t help the noises leaving you, screwing your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure. 

“You want me to stop?” He questions, his fingertip pushes into your eager cunt, giving only a hint of relief before pulling out. “Fine.”

The whimper that leaves you has him growing hard- well, harder. 

“Please…more.”

There’s no time to try and deny your body's needs, not when he allows his finger to push into you, all the way in. Thrusting the finger slowly, the sounds of wetness get louder. He pulls them out completely, only for two to push back in. 

“Y-yes- need more…” Your hips move on their own, fucking yourself on his fingers. 

He doesn’t press another in though, instead keeps his eyes locked on the place where you wrap tightly around his fingers. Even the slightest crook of his finger inside of you has you toppling over, bare chests rubbing each other. At this awkward angle you can’t really fuck yourself onto him, leaving you at the mercy of his slow and shallow fingerfucking. 

That need for release grows as his long fingers strike sparks against your inner walls. The sounds coming from your lower half would be embarrassing if you weren’t going mad with unholy needs. 

“I can’t come like this, p-please…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you can’t walk. Okay, my love?”

My love. A title too romantic for your intimate relationship, words failing you.

Your lack of response is substituted by your tightness clenching around his digits, making his chest rumble with an evil chuckle. 

“Good girl.”

[fourmoony]

I had an idea that is a little specific and it's okay if you don't want to write it. English is not my first language and I come from a big family that likes to talk loudly/likes to party, but I am introverted. I imagined what it would be like for the reader to date James and they are going to spend time with her family, and he sees the reader in her comfort zone (speaking in her first language and with her family) and just discussing silly things (like rules of some game) and it's all very loud and funny. He sees how you make people laugh and even though he doesn't understand anything he has a smile on his face and admires you for getting to know this new side of you even though you’ve been dating for a while

I love your writing and your work is amazing ❤️

thank you for requesting lovely! and thank you so much for your kind words <3

james x f!reader | 720 | masterlist

You're in your element, James thinks.

He's seen you at your happiest, sure. He's seen you necking pints with Sirius and discussing books with Remus, he's seen the aftermath of girl's night with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas. He's seen you laugh until your ribs hurt, commandeer your friends into playing your silly drinking games, dancing on tables, singing your heart out. You're a bubbly person, so obviously he's seen a handful of your happiest moments. But James doesn't think he's ever seen you in your element, at your most comfortable, your safest.

There's no hesitation in the way you speak to the group of your family members who are placed haphazardly around your mother's small kitchen. Even though he doesn't understand a lot of what you're saying, James can tell there's humour and wit, love and chagrin, and a little bit of sass to whatever it is you're saying. The conversation is moving too fast for him to pick up anything, because he's been learning small phrases here and there - it's important to him, and it makes you go all soft and gooey when he surprises you with a new phrase or loving comment. You're standing in the middle of the room, pointing at an older cousin of yours, an accusing look in your eye, but you're trying not to laugh.

It doesn't help that there seems to be eight other conversations happening at once, and James wonders how on earth your family ever get anything accomplished. You've been trying to organise a game of drunk UNO for the last fifteen minutes, but from what James has picked up on, no one can agree on house rules or game rules.

Your mother seems to be talking at you, fast and filled with love and humour and you're listening, but you're still talking at your older cousin, pointing at various people as you go, none of whom are listening, but are involved in their own, loud conversations.

If you weren't in the centre of all this, James would feel overwhelmed. Your family is loud and big and they don't seem to know what inside voices are. But it makes the final puzzle piece of you make sense. James understands, now, why you're always so willing to spend time with his overly large friend group, why you never hesitated or got nervous when you met him. You were born into this, and you handle it well.

He thinks you're beautiful every day, but right now you're ethereal. You're happy and comfortable and loud and obnoxious and James is pretty sure he's in love with you. The way you hold yourself, the way your words come from your mouth, fast and practiced and so fucking hot, it's all too much for James. He feels entranced by you, like you're some sort of sorcerer.

You return a few moments later, to his side, a happy smile on your face as everyone also collectively joins the table. James smiles bright when you press your lips to his cheek, rubbing your lipstick with your thumb. For a family who pick up on everything, James is surprised no one comments on your affection.

"Sorry," You murmur as you deal James his hand of UNO cards, "They can be a lot sometimes."

Your aunt - James thinks it's your aunt, anyway - yells at your youngest cousin, pointing here and there but he really cannot make out what he might be getting into trouble for. Eight conversations are happening around James as you deal the rest of the cards, there's people everywhere, but James wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

"Not at all," He assures you, a gentle hand on your thigh, "Seeing you in your comfort zone, so happy - I think? You were yelling a lot - makes me happy."

You huff a laugh, "He wouldn't admit that he cheats at UNO."

You give a disdainful look to your older cousin, who gives you a finger in return. You share a laugh with him after.

"You cheat at UNO." James reminds you, and while he wasn't aware the entire table was capable of having their own conversations and listening to his at the same time, he shouldn't be surprised.

Everyone erupts into chaos, and James knows he's in for it when he gets home.

[beenbaanbuun]

Love Sick - Lee Chan

Words - 3.4k

Genre - fluff

Warnings - making out, Chan is sick, language, nudity but nothing really NSFW

You were in the shower when your phone started to ring, interrupting your impromptu karaoke session. Of course, you ignored it. It was one thing to stop your music for a few seconds, but pulling you away from your warm, way-too-long shower? That was too much. Besides, you were wet and your hair was still covered in shampoo suds. If they needed you that desperately, they’d surely ring you again. 

After a few seconds, the shrill ringing stopped, replaced by the sound of your favourite vocalist's voice once more. You began to sway, a smile finding its way onto your face as you danced to the beat of the song. You were just about to open your mouth and sing along, but before you got the chance, the song was cut off once more. 

You tried to peer over at your phone to see who it was that needed you so badly, but the glass surrounding you had fogged up, obscuring your vision of anything outside of the cubicle.

“This had better be worth it,” you grumbled as you yanked the door open and stepped into the much colder room. You ignored the puddle that formed under your feet as you stepped onto the tile. It was something you could clean up later after you were done chastising whoever it was that apparently needed you so badly. 

You read the name on the screen, your eyes rolling on instinct when you realised it was your oldest friend - and most annoying friend, for that matter - that was so desperate to get in touch. Knowing Seungkwan, it probably wasn’t anything important he was ringing you with. Probably just the latest drama that he’d heard through the grapevine and thought it to be of the utmost importance that you knew too. Usually, you loved to sit and gossip, but not when it was getting in the way of your morning routine. 

Still, you bit the bullet and answered, but before you could even say the word ‘hello’, Seungkwan had already started talking.

“Chan has a cold.” He said, cutting you off. 

“Huh?” 

“Chan. He’s sick.” Seungkwan repeated. 

“And what does that have to do with me?” You asked, trying to save face even though your heart was aching. You had to stay strong, you reminded yourself. 

“He’s your responsibility,” Seungkwan argued. 

“Since when?” 

“Since five months ago when you two finally decided that the rest of us had suffered your pining enough,” he sassed down the phone. You frowned, but you couldn’t exactly protest. Neither you nor Chan had been subtle with your feelings in the months leading up to him finally asking you to be his girlfriend. 

“Touché,” you grumbled, “but that still doesn’t make him my responsibility. There are 12 of you and one of me. Surely it makes more sense for you guys to take care of him.”

Seungkwan sighed on the other end. You were being annoying, and you knew that, but for a good reason. The last thing you wanted to do was to seem ‘overbearing’ - Chan’s words, not yours - and you couldn’t help but feel as though showing up to the dorms to take care of your boyfriend would be just that. It was only a cold, you told yourself, Chan would be fine without you. 

“Listen,” Seungkwan started. You could practically see the sympathetic smile on his face as he spoke. “Chan told me what happened. I understand why you’re trying to keep your distance right now. You’re hurt and you’re trying to give him the space he claims he wants, but I need you to ignore what he said. You’re usually so good at ignoring what people say.”

“Seungkwan, I can’t,” you fought back, ignoring the very blatant dig. 

“Yes, you can,” he practically growled at you, “Chan is sick because he hasn’t been taking care of himself. He’s been acting weird since you two argued and he keeps saying he’s just tired but we can all see right through him. He hates himself right now and he misses you so much, but he’s too stupid to do anything about it. If you want this relationship to work, you’re going to have to take the first step. If you prove to him that you’re still there, he’ll come crawling back with an apology.”

“I don’t need an apology,” you whined into the phone. “What I need is to not fuck up this relationship! Chan made his wishes very clear, and if he wants me to be around less then I will try my hardest to do that for him. Even if it is killing me.”

“It’s killing him too!” Seungkwan yelled down the line, trying to get his point across. He knew you were stubborn, but this really was taking the biscuit. “Whatever you think you’re doing, it ends now. Stop being childish and get over here.”

And with that, he hung up, leaving you with a war raging inside of your head. On one side, you wanted nothing more than to go and cuddle into his side and feed him soup until he was back to his regular, lively self. You wanted to dote on him and make him feel loved, but for some reason, you just couldn’t get the argument from only days before out of your head. He asked for space, and the last thing you wanted was to go against his wishes just because you couldn’t bear the thought of him being sick. You really didn’t think you could take it if he turned you away, especially when he needed someone to take care of him. It would break you, you were sure of it. 

But then Seungkwan came into your head. The lovely, irritating Seungkwan who made sure to tell you when you were being dumb, or taking things too literally. Who made sure to never send you down the wrong path or put your feelings in danger of being hurt. You trusted him over anyone else in the world, so if he said that Chan needed you, then your mind was already made up for you; you were going to see him.

Before you knew it you were outside of the dorm, dressed in some clothes that you frantically picked up from your bedroom floor and your hair still dripping wet from your shower. You looked a mess, but you felt worse. The constant conflict of emotions in your head had given you a headache, and the anxious stomach ache you had made you feel even worse. If you didn’t have a job to do, you probably would’ve turned around and gone home, taken yourself to bed and refused to come out again. Instead, you knocked on the door and tried your hardest to swallow down your nerves as you waited for it to be opened. 

It took a moment or two, but soon enough you were face to face with a disgruntled leader. Seungcheol looked even more tired than he usually did after a long morning of taking care of his members. Dark bags rested under his eyes as he sent you a smile that was soon cut off by a yawn. He must’ve had a rough night, you thought to yourself, and for a moment or two, you were glad that you were there to offer what little help you could. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he tugged you inside, shutting the door behind you. The first thing you noticed was how quiet the dorm was. Usually, there would be a never-ending stream of noise coming from every which direction, but today there was nothing but an eerie silence. “I’ve been up all night with Chan.” 

“Jesus,” you cursed. Seungkwan had said it was just a cold, but now you were wondering whether he’d just said that to keep you calm. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s sad,” the leader sighed, “has been since you stormed out the other night. It wasn’t so bad for a few days, he mainly just kept to himself in his room, but now he’s sick as well and all he wants is you. I kept telling him that you’d be here when he woke up, but he wouldn’t go to sleep without you and I couldn’t just leave him, not when he was as upset as he was. He passed out about an hour ago. It was pretty much when Seungkwan rang you and they all left for practice. I’ve been trying to stay awake to wait for you.”

Your heart sank. So Chan really did want you there. He wanted you there so badly that he had put Seungcheol through hell for a whole night. You felt bad for the guy, in all honesty, but you appreciated him taking care of your boyfriend. 

“How did you know I’d show?” 

“Oh, please,” he guffawed, “there was no way you weren’t going to run to Chan’s aid the moment you found out he was sick. You’re just as whipped as he is.”

“You’ve got me there,” you giggled as you set off in the direction of Chan’s room. “Go get some sleep, Cheol. You look old with those bags under your eyes.”

“Don’t be cheeky,” he jokingly scolded you, “You should respect your elders!”

“Bye Cheol!”

You stood outside of Chan’s bedroom door, unsure of whether you should knock or not. If he’d only been asleep for an hour, maybe not. It felt a little cruel to wake him up, especially if he was as sick as his members made him seem. He needed his sleep, and you really didn’t want to be the one to disrupt it. 

There was still that annoying little voice in the back of your head, though. The one that told you that you should’ve stayed at home because he didn’t really want you there. In that case, it’d be better to announce yourself, right? There’d be nothing worse than waking up with someone you didn’t want to see by your side. At least if you woke him up he’d have a chance to get rid of you before you let yourself hope that things would be different than the last time the two of you spoke. 

As your knuckles wrapped against the door, you couldn’t help but feel bad for not trusting Seungkwan and Seungcheol. They’d done their best to convince you that your boyfriend wanted you by his side today, but you were letting your thoughts get the better of you, telling yourself over and over again that this is the one time you shouldn’t believe them. They had to be lying. Otherwise, you’d been keeping yourself away from Chan for no reason other than your own stubborn feelings. 

There was a quiet groan from the other side of the door. A groan that sounded an awful lot like ‘come in, hyung,’ and whilst you weren’t his ‘hyung’ you still took it as an invitation to enter the room.

“Oh, Chan,��� you mumbled as your eyes finally landed upon his body that was tangled up in his blue sheets. A thin layer of sweat sat glimmering on his forehead and yet he still held the quilt up to his face as if he was going to freeze to death otherwise. All you wanted to do was take care of him, but as you walked closer and closer to his bed, you couldn’t help but let those thoughts enter your head once more. 

“Y/N, is that you?” He grunted, sounding just as weak as he looked. 

“Yeah,” you replied, “but I can go if you want me to.”

You watched as his face contorted into one of hurt. Great, you thought to yourself, now you’d upset him on top of him being sick. You really were a piece of work. 

“Why would I ask you to go?” He sounded offended that you’d even asked, although you thought it was a valid concern. “I haven’t seen you in days. I’ve missed you.”

You sighed, your feelings all jumbled up. The glee of him wanting to see you was mixed with the hurt of him seemingly forgetting everything he said to you to make you avoid him in the first place. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt since he was sick and all, but you couldn’t deny that part of you wanted to cry. 

“Can you come and lie with me?” He said after it had been silent for a minute or two. Of course, you wanted to say yes, but for some reason, your feet wouldn’t move from where they were planted a few feet away from his bed. “Please, Y/N.”

Still, you hesitated. Your thoughts were running wild. One moment they told you that you should just turn around and leave, and the next they said you should just forget the argument and run to him. After all, to be in his arms was all you’d been wanting for the past few days you'd spent without him.

“Chan,” you started, preparing to voice your concerns. 

“Y/N,” he responded in the same tone, “just come here, okay? Whatever you need to say can wait until I have you close, can’t it?”

You sighed, but you did as he asked, shuffling forward on your socked feet until you were standing just above his bed. You could see his face clearly from there. You could see the soft smile that he wore, as well as the gentle look in his eyes. You could see a thousand apologies swimming within them, and for a second you almost forgave him then and there. You held back, instead choosing to do as he asked and crawl into bed beside him. 

“Too many clothes,” he grumbled as you slotted yourself into his arms. “I’m practically naked and you’re dressed like you’re about to walk out into a snowstorm!” 

“I’m wearing a jumper, Chan,” you giggled at his silliness. “Not even anything underneath.” 

He rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he pushed his face into your neck as he completely engulfed you in his body, “think about how nice this cuddle would feel without that big thick jumper separating the two of us.”

You had to smile. Chan was a naturally chatty person, whereas you were more docile in nature. It was nice to know that the almost constant flow of words from his mouth didn’t falter when he was sick. It was even nicer to hear him after the radio silence you’d had to endure. You much preferred talkative Chan to any other iteration of your boyfriend. 

“If I take it off will you stop complaining?”

He nodded in reply and released you from his grasp so that you could pull the knitted garment over your head. You felt his eyes on you as you did so but it didn't feel weird. The two of you had seen one another so many times now that all shock value had been removed from the action of undressing. No longer was it a sexual act, but just a regular part of your lives. You always watched him when he came back from practice, rambling passionately to you as he stripped himself before his shower, just as he watched you prepare to lie down in his arms by removing every layer that may separate the two of you.

For a second or two, you contemplated taking everything else off, as you usually would, but you stopped yourself. As normal as Chan was trying to act, things still felt weird between the two of you. Going back to normal straight away without so much as a single word said about the incident that occurred a few days prior felt strange. You didn't want to do it, nor did you think you could. So you just lay down, uncomfortable in your bra and jeans, and let Chan hold you close once more.

Nothing more was said by Chan. In fact, you would've assumed that he’d gone back to sleep if it weren't for the small kisses he kept placing on your shoulder and neck. They didn't come very often, and they clearly weren't supposed to lead anywhere else. They were just a simple reminder that he loved you and he was happy you were there with him again.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered into the dark room. You didn't expect an answer from him, you just wanted him to know how you felt.

“I know,” he replied, his voice gruff from the cold, “I missed you too.”

“You can't have missed me that much if you didn't even message me since we last spoke.” It was a petty thing to say, you knew that, but some sick and twisted part of you wanted to make him suffer as much as you had.

“I would’ve done if I knew what to say but it's difficult to admit when you’ve been a complete and utter idiot.”

That got a smile out of you, even though you tried desperately to hide it. 

“You still should’ve said something. I’ve felt like shit for the last few days because of you,” you grumbled.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, releasing his grip a little, but not completely. You were still practically being swaddled by him, but now you had a little more room to breathe. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, Chan,” you shuffled closer to him subconsciously, denying the space that he’d given you only seconds prior, “You’re just an idiot sometimes, and that's okay.”

He pouted before breaking out into a fit of chuckles.

“So I’m forgiven?” He pondered, moving his head so it was only a few inches away from your own. It was an invitation to kiss him, clear as day. If you were feeling particularly cruel, you may have denied him. Fortunately for Chan, though, even you weren’t mean enough to deny a sick man a kiss, even if he was an idiot sometimes.

“Forgiven,” you whispered, leaning in close and pushing your lips against his. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds before you pulled away. Your forehead was still pressed against his; you weren’t ready to back away just yet. “But if you ever hurt me like that again, I’ll set Seungkwan on you.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “I wouldn’t expect any different.”

One more kiss was placed upon your lips. A sweet one filled with love and pure, unadulterated joy. Teeth bumped against teeth as the two of you grinned into one another’s mouths, but you didn't mind. In fact, the feeling was welcome. It reminded you of all the giddy, too-enthusiastic kisses the two of you shared when you started dating. They were far and few between, when there was still an element of shyness between the both of you. 

“You’re going to get me sick,” you whispered against his open mouth. He ignored you, delving back in for more. Despite your protest, you couldn't help but give in and let Chan put every ounce of passion he had into the kiss. You even returned the passion, holding onto his face so as not to let him slip away from you.

It was at this point that you regretted leaving the rest of your clothes on. Chan was right; it felt wrong to have something separating the two of you right now. You needed to be close, to feel his body close to yours. Even if he was feverishly warm and a little too sticky with sweat to be comfortable, you wanted him pressed against you. 

So without breaking the kiss, you slipped a band between your bodies to unbutton your jeans. Chan pulled his pelvis away from yours for a few seconds to allow you to slip them over your hips and begin to push them down your legs. You kicked your legs, using your feet to push the jeans down the rest of the way and off of your body entirely. There was a small thud as Chan used his own foot to nudge them over the lip of the mattress and onto the floor. 

“You taking anything else off?” He asked, hand already snaking around your back to rest upon your bra clasp. You nodded and within a few seconds, he was pulling the item away from your body and flinging it across the room. “That's more like it. Now we’re back to normal, hm?”

“Right,” you smiled, “back to normal.”

[unfortunately-obsessed]

My Love Will Never Die

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader. Tags: emotional hurt/comfort, burnout, established relationship. Title based off a Hozier's song. Ao3 link.

Summary:

« You've done me wrong for a long, long time. But after all you've done, I never changed my mind. »

Behind you, you wonder if the chauffer it is still there, standing. You know he is, the manners making him wait until you enter the house to only then pull the car to the garage. Watching you frozen in place, bag lazily held in a hand, umbrella in another. Hair disheveled, clothes unruly. You wonder if you look pathetic on his eyes, just as much as you feel currently.

The truth is: you are utterly destroyed.

Not only mentally. Your muscles ache, pain spiking up on your lower back worse than any damage a sharpened knife could cause. Feet so thoroughly hurt by heels they're numb, if not for the casual sharp sting.

It is Gotham. The sky is grey, the city sucks up you out of life each passing moment.

Rain splatters against your umbrella. You stand just before the front door of Wayne Manor, mindlessly fidgeting with the wedding ring sitting pretty on your finger.

One year. You've been married with Bruce Wayne for one year already? Doesn't feel like it.

Time flew before your eyes, the start of it all just below your eyelids. Every first so toothachingly sweet, burned into your brain. Press nails against skin until it sharpens.

Behind you, you wonder if the chauffer it is still there, standing. You know he is, the manners making him wait until you enter the house to only then pull the car to the garage. Watching you frozen in place, bag lazily held in a hand, umbrella in another. Hair disheveled, clothes unruly.

You wonder if you look pathetic on his eyes, just as much as you feel currently.

Not worthy of the surname Wayne, to be called “lady of the house”.

Time is a cruel kind of lesson.

"Ms. Wayne." Alfred's voice, invariably courteous, calls. You almost wince at the door opening. He stands before you, maybe a little unnerved by your state, but if it's displeasure or worry on his face, you can't tell.

He masks terrifically well. You're always alarmed by this.

"Are you alright, ma'am?"

At that, you do wince.

"Yes, Alfred." Your brain haven't even processed his presence yet when you walk past him. He takes your coat and bag. "Just got lost in thoughts for a moment."

"Pondering the mysteries of our universe at the front step?" Ah, you do love the edge of sass in his voice. You meet his eyes, a shy-like (unlike you) smile cursing your face. "Shall I fetch for tea? Supper will be served in one hour's time."

Some months ago, you might have looked forward for it. If Bruce couldn't welcome you after work, he at least would make sure to eat dinner with you.

Deep in your stomach, rot. You swallow dry.

"No, thanks," you say, taking a deep breath. Desperately– desperately talking through the knot in your throat. "I just want to hit the showers and sleep," you say, all sincerity.

You smile politely. He doesn't pushes you.

It is easy to backslide. To make oneself likeable, less volatile, more agreeable. Until you can earn love and care.

(Oh. It's getting bad again.)

"And Bruce?" You ask halfway through up the stairs, despite yourself. My love for you is bigger than words. I search for you everywhere.

The silence that hangs would be enough of an answer. Alfred is merciful, though. "Still working, ma'am."

Isn't it painful? Loving someone just from outside their life?

Wayne Manor is a haunted house. Constantly burning, touching the skies with horrible black smoke. Sculpted coffered ceilings, furniture of expensive dark wood. Bristol, yet you can see the city and all its skyscrapers by the right window.

Wayne Manor, aka Bruce Wayne's first grave.

Every corner, a memory.

"Of course," you mutter to yourself, emotion pooling in the eyes.

Love is about the failure of language, so you fall silent and disappear into the halls.

~*~*~

The sheets are clean like you know they would be.

Heels are the first to go. You kick them off, grumbling in satisfaction. Earrings next, then lipstick messily scrubbed off in any sheet of paper.

Hairpin and belt lost to the ground. Bra? Disappeared.

Yet, despite being absolutely exhausted, you stop just before the bed. Ice at the nape of your neck like a garrote, a promise. Knot in your throat to hang on.

King-sized, silk sheets, cloud soft. Each breath is a stutter of a muscle, the blood running in your veins a statement that you are, in fact, alive.

Isn't it such a lousy fear? The fear to sleep and have yet another nightmare. Oh, to be worn out mind and body and still unable to touch a bed.

The sheets are clean, white-pure. Sours you mouth.

Messy and childish fear. To see the future, where he dies by your feet using the damned cowl. Feats unnamed, life unhonoured.

Death smiles to Batman.

(Ah, Bruce. I would break my own fingers for you. Tear the tongue out of my mouth.

But there are limits.)

You can't even remember half those nightmares. Hands shaking, clattered flesh, de-boned corpses–

You don't want to ruin the sheets. You don't want to ruin your life.

~*~*~

It might be 5am.

He nuzzles against your neck, breath hot and exhausted, chest to your back. Skin painted with purple and red, scar-tissue mapping constellations, saying eat.

Eat you do. Bite one step removed, soft-mouthed kissing blue veins and rough hands. Until you lips become raw and numb.

His weight sinks the mattress, acting like a gravitational pull. Bruce's body, which furnaces can't compare, protectively embraces you.

He's so warm. It's 5am and you both are lying together, legs intertwined, his face buried on your shoulder. You listen to his breathing, slow and controlled, in the comforting quiet of unrealized-hours.

I wish the past had been kinder on you. How the world is cruel and how you refuse to be.

Soft sunlight hums through the damasked curtains, birds start to sing. You are wide awake, and he is too.

You'd seen him die down in your mind, every night. He lives your nightmares, putting on the suit. You're not bound to him by fate, not a soulmate, with no divine intervention; hallowed by gums aching and reverence– that is to say: the door is open, you can walk away.

Because one day, he won't come back.

You know it. He knows it. He has the arrangements prepared for the occasion.

And nowadays, he can't afford to leave the cave if not for going downtown.

The life of a hero is very unthankful.

"Do you hate me?" he asks you, voice rough to be an knife's edge. It's been long enough since you last felt him this close, low in your ear.

Bruce assures you through touch. Calloused thumb rubbing your wrist. Affections ebbs in his palms, love even. A work in progress.

In all your inner turmoil, you can see yourself getting quite tired of it all. The late nights crawling up walls, knowing he won't come back until morning– the stitching of wounds, his blood in the Persian rugs– but to imagine oneself as his enemy? As in, hating him?

"No," you murmur in a steady heartbeat. A detour cross your mind, of eustress: he gets tired too. And, then you say for good measure, "Never."

People don't really think how tiring tragic the life of a hero is. But there's this exhilarating moment where all that exists is Bruce's breath in your skin.

"Do you love me?" he asks because he can't take any chances. Oh, you can bet a kid that grew up traumatized will need reassurance. Constant, gentle reassurance.

White stripes of scars in his knuckles and forearms below your fingertips, drawing into your memory again and again.

The truth is: you are utterly destroyed.

Not only physically. But he tugs with your heartstrings everyday, bruised like he'd been squeezing it. The more it lingers more you realize you've been packing up emotions for weeks, now.

"What a silly thing to ask," you say. Not an answer. Neither are breathing for a second, there. You teeth clatter like a damn trying to bust.

Ah! There's a lot of messed up stuff happening all the time. You coil in yourself, perhaps considering. Bruce's touch shudders.

And there is something to realize. You'd rather die drowning for love than in thirst of it. Repeat to yourself, to him, I will never leave you. In healthiness and sickness–

"On purpose. Always–"

Love, who is brutal, who is stored in the viscera–

"–I love you."

A/N: If you like what I do, please consider supporting me and buying a coffee!

[nastybuckybarnes]

Riding Lessons  -  Three

Pairing: Dbf!Bucky X Reader X Dbf!Steve

Summary: You and Wanda make plans to head to your family’s cabin for the weekend. The only problem? That’s the exact same weekend that your dad and his friends were planning to go out there. It’s fine, though, there’s plenty of room for all of you, right? What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Language, Light Angst, Fluff, Smut (oral (f/m receiving), face riding, fingering, hair-pulling, spanking, face fucking, degradation, rough stuff, breeding kink, slight voyeurism, name calling, little bit of cockwarming), Aftercare, Age Gap (Reader is 21, Bucky is mid-forties),

Word Count: 5.5K

A/n: My first post since my little disappearance lol. I hope you guys like this and I’m hoping to actually start posting on a bit of a schedule, but I’ve always been a hot mess so we’ll see lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I love you all very much!

Part one  Part Two

~*~

“Ah! There you are, perfect timing. I was just about to call you!” Your dad says with a smile as you and Wanda walk into the house.

“Yeah, we just finished yoga,” you explain, stopping at the front door as your dad and Bucky walk toward you and your friend.

You’re both drenched in sweat, hair matted and clothes sticking to your body after an intense hot yoga class.

“You gonna be okay here by yourself this weekend? Bucky, Steve and I are heading up to the cabin.”

You frown and shake your head, trying to avoid looking at Bucky because you know you won’t be able to play it cool if you meet his eyes.

“Wanda and I were supposed to go to the cabin this weekend, remember? I told you on Monday.”

Bucky watches as you and your father discuss this weekend, his eyes devouring your figure.

You look good enough to eat in your sweaty yoga clothes, and he needs to discretely adjust his boner as he watches a drop of sweat bury itself in your cleavage. God, he wishes he could lick it up and then fuck you till you’re crying.

He’d give you a better workout than any yoga instructor ever could.

“You ladies can still come this weekend. Us old farts are gonna be watching the game and fishing for most of the weekend, so you ladies will be free to sunbathe and paint your nails and talk about boys all you want.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, accentuating your bust and making it so much harder for Bucky to keep his cool.

“Is that really what you think we do all day?” You ask, sass dripping from your voice.

A smile tugs at the corner of Bucky’s mouth when your eyes finally meet his, and he can see you swallow hard and squeeze your soft thighs together.

“I’m okay to go, still,” Wanda pipes in, smiling encouragingly at you when you raise your eyebrows.

“You don’t have to, Wanda. Don’t feel pressured just because they're standing right there,” You whisper, though secretly all you want is to go because Bucky and Steve are gonna be there.

The memory of the last time you saw both of them together has been playing in your head since the barbecue.

Steve’s eager tongue between your legs, lapping up the mess that Bucky made and not stopping until his face was just as messy.

His beard glistened in the sun when the three of you finally made it back outside, and he couldn't wipe the grin from his face.

All the while, Bucky kept shooting you knowing glances, letting you know that that wouldn’t be the end of things.

She shakes her head and smiles again, “it’ll still be fun. Besides, now we won’t have to worry about anyone breaking in and killing us like in that movie we watched.”

You groan and shake your head, but a grin finds your lips anyway.

Perfect.

A weekend with your best friend and the two men who practically own you. What more could a girl ask for?

~*~

“Okay, ladies! You two are gonna be sharing the room down the hall. If you get up at all during the night and see someone on the couch, don’t panic. It’s just this big lug,” your dad says with a grin, patting Steve’s shoulder.

The blond man grins at you, mischief in his eyes, then looks over at where Bucky stands, his eyes focused on yours.

You swallow hard and nod, grabbing Wanda’s hand and tugging her toward what’s going to be your bedroom for the weekend.

“Oh. My. God!” She exclaims as soon as the door’s closed, a wicked grin on her face.

You groan loudly and collapse on the bed.

“I told you!” You grumble, shaking your head in disbelief.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now you’re regretting coming to the cabin with them.

“They were pretty much fucking you with their eyes the whole time! And your and your dad really has no idea?” She asks in a whisper, sitting next to you on the bed and poking your shoulder until you look at her.

“He has no clue, dude. Fuck, this was a mistake. I’m not gonna be able to survive the weekend. I’m not. I’m gonna die. I’m going to explode or dad's gonna find out or-”

“Stop overreacting! If you guys haven’t been caught after the whole barbecue thing, I doubt you’re gonna get caught at all. Have fun. You’re only young once, and those guys are hot as fuck. If you don’t fuck them this weekend then I’m going to.”

You roll your eyes but push yourself into a seated position anyway.

“Fuck, I guess you’re right. It’ll be fine. They’re not gonna be obvious about it, right?”

Wanda nods and roots through her suitcase to find her bathing suit

“Right. Now, let's go get some sun!”

~*~

Wrong.

You were wrong.

You were so fucking wrong.

You and Wanda are lying down on the lounge chairs on the patio of the cabin overlooking the lake, iced teas beside you and soft music playing, when they walk by.

Each of them clad only in their swim trunks, thick muscular bodies on display for your hungry eyes.

You can’t help but devour them, and they’re not discreet in doing the same to you.

Bucky goes so far as to stand directly in front of your lounge chair, a smile on his lips as he takes in the sight of your beautiful body draped in only a red bikini.

“You ladies put sunblock on?” Steve asks, his eyes focusing on your cleavage for a moment before returning to your face.

You shake your head, “that kind of defeats the whole purpose of getting some sun, Steve.”

Bucky leans down slightly and trails his fingers over your inner calf, stopping above your knee and then tapping your inner thigh gently.

“You want some help putting it on, crybaby? Hmm?”

You inhale sharply, thighs squeezing together but he grabs the flesh quickly, giving you a stern look.

Your eyes flicker over his shoulder to Steve, whose gaze is focused on you as Bucky brings his hand up to grab your face. He leans closer, his lips grazing your cheek for just a moment before his teeth nip at your ear.

“You gonna ride my face when your dad falls asleep tonight, princess?”

You nod immediately, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly pulls away.

“You guys comin’ or what?” Your dad’s voice calls from around the side of the cabin.

Bucky steps back and rises to his full height, adjusting his boner then plastering a stunning smile on his handsome face.

“Yeah! Just got caught up.”

They both take their leave, each glancing over their shoulder at you before disappearing around the house.

It’s quiet for a long moment before Wanda whistles lowly.

“I don’t know how you’re not melted into a puddle right now. If either of those men did that to me I’d probably die on the spot. Like, I don’t understand how you do it. You’re one lucky bitch, I’ll tell you that much.”

You take a deep breath and sink an inch lower in the lounge chair, heart racing and eyes squeezed shut.

“Wanda, I don’t think I’m gonna survive this,” you confess, bringing your hands up to cover your face.

She giggles and shakes her head at you, relaxing in the lounge chair.

“Why not have fun with it? I mean, they clearly are. Might as well give it right back to them,” she notes.

You slowly pull your hands away from your face and look over at her, intrigue written across your face.

“I’m just saying that two -or, three I guess- can play this game. They wanna tease you? Tease ‘em right back. I’m sure whatever they have in store for you after will be worth it anyway, so might as well have fun.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip for a moment, pondering her words.

“But how? I don’t wanna be obvious and have my dad find out.”

She shrugs, “just do little things. We’ve got popsicles in the freezer, right? Go offer them one.” She punctuates her sentence with a wink and you feel a smile creep across your face.

You rise off of the lounge chair and nearly trip over yourself in your haste to get inside and grab a popsicle.

You pull it out of the wrapping and lather it with saliva, then head to the bathroom to adjust your bikini top in the mirror.

Once you’re positive that you look good enough to eat, you make your way back outside, smiling at Wanda when she laughs as you pass by.

You follow the path that Steve and Bucky took around the side of the cabin where your dad keeps all the fishing gear, wrapping your lips around the popsicle and sucking the sweet taste into your mouth when you finally catch a glimpse of the two men.

“Hey, kiddo. Everything okay?” Your dad asks, not looking up from the supplies he’s gathering.

“Yeah, everything’s good. I just wanted to see if any of you wanted a popsicle.” You drag your tongue up the underside of the popsicle right as Bucky and Steve lift their gazes to you, and the look on their faces says it all.

Steve stays quiet, but Bucky takes a step towards you and cocks his head to the side.

“I’m okay for now, darling. I’ve already got a sweet treat planned after dinner. Don’t wanna have too much now.”

The way his eyes rake over your figure has you feeling the ghost of his touch between your legs, and your thighs clench. Something that does not go unnoticed by the two of them.

You bat your eyelashes innocently at the two of them, taking the popsicle deep in your throat for a moment and humming around it before pulling it back out.

A string of saliva connects your lips and the popsicle for a long moment before you lick your lips, and you grin when the two men adjust themselves in their swim trunks.

“Okay. Just wanted to come and offer. Do you want anything, Steve?” You turn pointedly toward the blond, your free hand stroking your breasts through your bikini top, playing with your hardened nipple for a moment before dropping down to rest at your side.

Steve swallows hard and gives you a look that has a shiver racing down your spine.

“I’m good, sweetheart, thank you. Might take you up on that later though.” His dark eyes tell you that he wants your lips wrapped around something other than the popsicle, and you giggle softly.

“Okay. If you fellas change your mind just let me know. I don’t mind bringing them out to you.” You lick up the popsicle one last time before turning on your heel and walking away, your ass bouncing with every step you take and you can feel them watching you.

“All right boys, let's get this boat out in the water!”

~*~

The rest of the afternoon is peaceful, with your dad and his friends fishing and you and Wanda enjoying the sun while the ache between your legs only worsens.

By the time dinner’s on the table, you’re beyond ready to deal with your aching clit on your own, but one look at the two delicious men at the table and you halt those thoughts in their tracks.

Your dad sits at one end of the table and Bucky sits at the other, with you and Wanda between them on one side and Steve seated across from the two of you.

With a pile of steaming food on your plate, you find yourself hungry for something else, unable to concentrate on the conversations going on around you as your mind wanders to all the dirty things these men could do to you. All the things they plan on doing to you.

Lifting your eyes slowly, you watch Steve as he talks to Wanda about some science thing she’s working on in school.

Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you slowly raise your foot and straighten your leg under the table, watching the way his lips quirk upward when your foot caresses his calf.

You slowly drag your foot upwards until you reach his thigh, then dare to move further watching him closely as you stroke the bulge in his pants.

His hips move forward the tiniest bit and he clears his throat, shifting his weight and shooting you a glance, daring you to continue.

You can’t help but grin, taking a sip of your drink and stroking him again.

Your eyes flutter over to the man on your right and you almost choke on your drink at the way he’s looking at you.

He’s obviously aware of what you’re doing, and you have to stop yourself from giggling.

You tease Steve beneath the table for the rest of the meal, stroking his hard cock through the fabric of his shorts and relishing in the way he looks at you. Promising a punishment that you’re beyond excited for.

~*~

“Okay folks, you guys ready?” Your dad shouts from the doc, Steve beside him helping set up the fireworks.

You and Wanda both cheer, excited about the fireworks.

They begin setting them off and the two of you watch in awe as your attention is captured.

“I’m gonna go down on the swing to watch, wanna come?” Wanda asks, stepping towards the stairs leading down to the porch swing.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna grab a sweater.”

She nods and heads down to the swing.

As you turn to the cabin to get a sweater, you freeze in your tracks.

Bucky’s leaning against the sliding glass door, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and his dark eyes trained on you.

“B-Bucky. I didn’t hear you come out.”

You mentally curse yourself for being reduced to a stuttering mess whenever he's around.

“You had fun with Steve, huh?”

You swallow hard and lick your lips, unsure of how to proceed.

He pushes off the door and steps toward you, forcing you to back up until your back hits the railing of the deck.

You’re trapped between the wood and his hard body and you don’t know what to do.

“You’ve been teasing us all day, crybaby. That’s not something a good girl does, is it?”

You tilt your head back to look at him as the fireworks explode overhead, his eyes illuminated for a brief moment before darkness masks his face once again.

“I was just returning the favour, James.”

Hearing you say his name has his cock standing at attention and fuck, he loves hearing it come from your pretty lips.

“Oh yeah? And what’s your plan now? Because, the way I see it, he and I have every right to do whatever we want to this sweet, tight body of yours. I could spin you around, bend you over, and fuck your cute little cunt till you’re crying. Right outside in front of your friend and your dad. Is that what you want, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer, but he’s already got you spun around and bent slightly over the railing of the deck.

You inhale sharply, hands grabbing at the wood as another firework bursts overhead.

His fingers trail between your thighs beneath your dress, and he lets out a soft curse when he finds you bare and wet for him.

“You’re really playing with fire here, crybaby, you know that?” He whispers, his lips trailing over your neck as his fingers slowly slide through your folds.

You bite your lip to keep yourself quiet, eyes focused on where your dad and Steve are.

All the way down at the dock.

Surely too far away to make out exactly what’s going on.

Bucky’s fingers find your clit and you gasp, hips automatically pushing back into his hand, and he chuckles softly.

“You’re so easy, crybaby. I can play you like a fucking fiddle. Do you have any idea how easy it is for me to make you cum? For me to have you begging and crying?”

You hum softly, rocking your hips in time with his fingers.

“Maybe you should remind me,” you whisper, wanting nothing more than to cum after how wound up you’ve been all day.

He laughs softly, his fingers not slowing as he nuzzles his nose into your hair.

“Is that what you want, baby? You want me to make you cum? Wanna cream all over my fingers like the good little slut I know you are?”

You nod eagerly, your body wound tight and ready for the sweet release you know he can bring you.

He chuckles quietly and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, then grabs a handful of your hair and yanks your head back until it’s resting on his shoulder.

“Good girls get to cum. Bad girls get punished. Meet me in the living room at one and you’ll get what you deserve, princess.”

With that, he releases you and takes a step away, then bounds down the stairs and onto the grass, giving Wanda a wink on his way.

You stay leaning against the railing, breathing hard and squeezing your thighs together in frustration.

These two are gonna be the death of you. But what a way to go.

~*~

You toss and turn all night, unable to get even a wink of sleep as you count down the minutes until 1am.

Eventually, the clock strikes one, but you find yourself paralyzed with fear and anticipation.

What will they do to you?

What if your dad finds out?

Oh god, this can’t end well.

Finally mustering up your courage, and using the cover of just needing a glass of water, you venture out of your room and slowly make your way through the cabin.

The lights in the living room are off, and you let out a sigh of relief.

They probably got the hint after waiting for fifteen minutes.

Disappointment and relief play tug-of-war with your heart as you get yourself a glass of water from the kitchen.

At least now you’ll probably be able to finally get some sleep. Just as soon as you deal with your aching clit.

“You know, Steve didn’t think you’d show. But I knew you’d make it.”

You tense up at the sound of his smooth voice, searching for the source of it in the darkness of the room.

“And, though I’m glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence, punctuality is important to me.” His voice slowly gets closer until you can make out the outline of his body in the darkness.

“I-I’m sorry,” you try softly, setting your glass down and bracing your hands on the counter behind your back.

“After all the teasing today? No, you’re not. But you will be.” His firm hands find your waist with ease, and then he’s spinning you around and bending you over across the kitchen island.

You huff out a surprised gasp when a second set of hands pushes your hair away from your face.

“How are we gonna punish our sweet girl, Buck?” Steve’s voice asks from in front of you.

You swallow hard as the oversized shirt you’re wearing gets pushed up your back, your panties yanked down your thighs next.

“Hmm...” Bucky acts as if he’s thinking as his hands caress the globes of your ass, but he already knows what he’s got planned for you.

“How about... one for every minute you were late?” He punctuates his question with a particularly rough smack to your ass, and you yelp softly only for Steve to cover your mouth with his large hand.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” the blond agrees.

Without giving you any warning, the brunet’s hand comes down hard on your ass again, and you jolt away from the pain as much as you’re able to from your position on the counter.

He spanks you again, then again, and twice more after that, and pretty soon tears are prickling at your eyes and the ache between your thighs has morphed into a throb.

You’re mumbling pleas and apologies into Steve’s hand, and both men can’t help but coo at how adorable you look.

With each strike of his hand against your ass, you crawl closer and closer to the edge, your climax just out of reach when he finally whispers ‘fifteen’.

“Good girl. There you go, you pretty little thing. Took it like a champ,” Bucky praises as he massages your aching flesh.

You whine softly, cheeks tear-stained and glistening.

Steve releases your mouth and leans down to kiss your forehead.

“You’re such a good girl for us, honey. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispers softly, his voice gentle and kind.

Your insides get warm and fuzzy at the praise from both of them and you can’t help the smile that pulls at the corner of your mouth.

“Now, sweet girl. You gonna let me eat your pretty pussy? I remember you saying you’d ride my face. Well, what are you waiting for, honey?”

He helps you stand on your shaky legs, then leads you into the living room with Steve hot on your heels.

Each man has a hand somewhere on your body, and you don’t hate it. In fact, you could die happily in their arms.

After an orgasm, of course.

Bucky lies down on the couch on his back while Steve turns on a dim lamp in the corner of the room, giving you just enough light to see where each man is.

“C’mon, baby. Lemme taste that pretty pussy. I’ve missed her.”

You climb nervously onto the couch, nodding at the questioning look on his face, then position yourself with your knees on either side of his head and your pussy right above his mouth.

“None of that hovering shit, sweetheart. I’m a man, not a boy. I can handle you. I wanna feel you ride my face.”

He grabs your hips and yanks them down until your weight is firmly resting on his face, and then his talented tongue is working your clit.

“O-oh!” You exclaim, tumbling forward and grabbing onto the arm of the couch for stability.

“Oh God... Bucky... oh fuck...”

He works your body like he’s spent years studying it, finding every angle that makes you twitch.

Steve comes to stand at the edge of the couch, smoothing his hands through your hair and cupping your face, forcing you to look up at him through glossy eyes as his friend brings you closer and closer to the edge.

“You look so pretty riding his face, honey. So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, leaning in to capture your lips with his.

The kiss is intense and passionate, and you can’t help but whine softly against his mouth when his fingers dart beneath your shirt to tug on your nipples.

Bucky’s hands slide over your thighs, pulling you further onto his face while his tongue attacks your clit.

You moan into Steve’s mouth, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the bare skin.

“M’gonna cum,” you whisper against his mouth, leaning your chest into his hands as he fondles your breasts.

“Do it, honey. Cum all over his face. C’mon, sweet girl,” Steve coaxes, tugging and twisting your nipples and nipping at your bottom lip while you rock your hips against Bucky’s face.

The additional stimulation pushes you over the edge quickly, and you crumple forward against Steve’s chest, panting against his mouth as you convulse.

He supports your weight while Bucky licks you through your orgasm, relishing in the feeling of your walls spasming and fluttering while you whimper and moan against Steve.

“Good girl... fuck, you’re such a good girl for us,” Steve praises, hugging you to his chest for a moment then helping you off of Bucky’s face.

The brunet sits up and pulls you to sit on his lap, his beard glistening in the dim light of the room.

“Fuck, you taste like heaven,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing you deeply.

You taste yourself on his mouth and can’t help but sigh into it.

Something about the way he’s so comfortable being sexual with you, so open and confident without a hint of insecurity makes you so unbelievably attracted to him.

You rock your hips on his lap, wanting -no, needing- more.

“You’re a greedy girl, aren't you?” He muses against your lips, pulling back to look at you.

You nod, breathing heavily and wanting nothing more than to have his thick cock inside you.

“Please fuck me,” you beg softly, lust-filled eyes trained on him.

He groans softly and nods, pushing you to lie down on your back.

You huff out a breath and sit up while he rises, yanking your shirt off and watching as he and Steve drop their sweatpants.

Steve comes to kneel at your head while Bucky makes his way between your thighs again.

“Buck says I’m not allowed to fuck you, sweetheart,” Steve whispers. “Not yet, anyway. Punk wants to keep that sweet tight cunt to himself and, honestly, I don’t blame him. Still can’t help but be jealous. I’d love to feel your squeeze me, princess. Fuck, I dream of the day when I can finally cum inside you, pump you full.”

You squirm on the couch, desperate to be filled with cock and cum, and the two men share a soft chuckle.

“Getting our girl all worked up, Stevie. Look at how desperate she is.”

‘Our girl’. You can’t help but sigh at that.

You belong to them, to both of them. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Steve rubs the tip of his hot cock against your lips, smearing a bead of precum around and chuckling softly when your mouth drops open.

“You’re just desperate for cock at this point, aren’t you?” He questions softly, pushing into your mouth and rubbing against your tongue.

You can only nod slightly, not wanting to disturb him as he plays with your mouth.

Bucky’s hands rub gently along your thighs, smoothing over the skin and sending shivers racing up your spine.

“You like teasing her, huh?” He asks, a smile on his face as he watches his friend have fun with you.

“She makes it hard not to,” Steve admits, slowly pushing his cock down your throat.

You brace one hand above your head on his thigh, trying hard to keep your throat open and push your gag reflex down as he starts thrusting gently.

“Aw, look at how nice he’s being, Angel. Treating you like you’re fragile or something,” Bucky says with a chuckle, using one hand to guide his cock to your dripping hole while the other hand shoves your shirt up above your breasts, two fingers pinching your nipple.

“We all know that’s not true though, don’t we?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that kisses your cervix and you can’t help but moan around Steve’s length, trying to suppress the cough that wants to follow.

The brunet feels proud at how well you take his cock, like your body was made specifically for him. And he plans on taking complete advantage of that.

His pace is even, each thrust rough enough to have a soft moan falling from your mouth and every time a noise comes from you, Steve moans from above you. The vibrations combined with how hot and wet your mouth is has the blond trying desperately to hold onto his composure.

You feel so full.

So completely stuffed from both ends and you’ve never been happier.

Bucky fits perfectly in your cunt, each drag of his girth along your walls has sparks shooting to your clit, a type of stimulation you didn’t think you’d get from penetration alone - yet here you are.

Your orgasm creeps up on you slowly, getting closer and closer with each thrust of Bucky’s hips and every tug of your hair in Steve’s hand.

Your senses are clouded. Nothing exists beyond Bucky in your cunt and Steve in your mouth. All you can taste, feel, hear, and smell is the three of you and you’d love to bask in it forever.

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart. Nice n’ tight... wet... shit, honey, you feel like heaven, you know that? God, I could fuck this sweet little pussy all night. Might just have to.”

Bucky’s words have you gushing around him, a moan vibrating against Steve’s cock again and the blond can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, honey. Shit... I tried to be gentle but fuck, you feel too good. I’m sorry.” With that, he holds your head in both hands and begins fucking your throat like you’re nothing more than a fucktoy.

He uses you to get off. He ignores your gags and coughs and the tears running down your temples and he fucks you like he owns you.

And between your thighs, Bucky does the same thing.

He has your hips hoisted up slightly, the angle allowing him to get so much deeper and fuck you so much harder. His hands are firmly planted on your hips, gripping so tightly that you know you’re going to have bruises in the morning but you also don’t care.

His cock hits your sweet spot with every thrust, and you can’t stop the moans from falling between gags.

Everything is too much. The pleasure between your legs mixes so beautifully with all the pain and it pushes you over the edge, your climax slamming into you like a train.

“Fuck... can feel you cumming, sweet girl. Fuck, that’s right... cream on my cock, princess. It’s all yours, you know that,” Bucky murmurs, grunting at the vice-like grip your cunt has on his cock.

Steve doesn’t last much longer, yanking his cock out of his mouth and furiously stroking it until ropes of his cum are bursting out and painting your face.

You cough and gasp, moaning far louder than you really should as Bucky fucks you through your orgasm and Steve cums on your face.

“Fuck, you look so pretty covered in his cum, baby. So fuckin’ pretty. M’gonna fill you up now. Gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum then send you back to bed leaking. You want that? Wanna be full of my cum?”

You nod immediately, your hands finding his chest as his thrusts get sloppy.

Your nails dig into the meat of his chest and break the skin, but you’re both so far gone in your pleasure that you hardly register that.

All that matters is him pumping you full of cum exactly like he said he would.

“Please,” you whisper roughly, dragging your nails down his arms until your fingers are wrapped around his wrists - so thick that you can’t even touch the tip of your thumb to your middle finger.

“Fuck, baby. You ready for it? Yeah?” He asks, piercing blue eyes focused on your fucked-out face.

It takes two more thrusts for him to meet his high and then he’s making good on his promise.

He paints your walls white, fills you with warmth exactly like he said he would, and you feel so whole and content at that moment.

With Steve stroking your hair and Bucky smoothing his hands over your thighs, you feel happy.

A content sigh falls from your lips and you settle deeper into the couch, exhaustion creeping up on you.

“Did we fuck you to sleep, pretty girl?” Steve asks softly, his fingers wiping the mess off of your face gently.

You only hum in response, the sound scratchy and hoarse.

He chuckles and presses a quick kiss to your forehead before straightening up and tugging his boxers on.

“How do you feel, honey?” Bucky asks gently, his eyes soft and full of something that has your heart jumping in your chest.

You nod your response then clear your throat when he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Sore,” you manage to whisper, your lids feeling heavy.

The two men share a soft chuckle and Bucky pulls you onto his lap so you’re cradled in his arms, his softening cock still lodged inside of you.

“How about we go take a quick shower to get you cleaned up, hmm? Then we can put you to bed.”

You nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck and wind your arms around his strong body.

“Will you stay with me?” You ask softly, the question muffled slightly from where your lips are pressed against his skin.

He rubs his hands across your back and then a second set of hands is smoothing over your hair.

“We can’t stay for too long, Princess, but definitely until you fall asleep,” Bucky whispers, peppering kisses along any skin exposed to him.

Steve nods his agreement and pushes your hair aside to allow him to press a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Now c’mon, crybaby. Let’s get you cleaned up.”