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#i really needed to get that out off my chest
thestarkinternship · 2 days
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10 Minutes
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)
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Summary: Bucky is a little desperate for some alone time during one of Stark's parties, and ten minutes is all he needs.
Word Count: 2.2k (no mention of Y/N)
Warnings: Profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), slight exhibitionism (bathroom at a party), MINORS DNI!
A/N: I kinda took a break from writing because I had a lot of unfinished fics, but I'm slowly starting to get back into it. And thank you for 300 followers on here! I can't believe there's that many people of you who actually like my writing :)
Masterlist
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“That’s gotta be what, your sixth drink?” You giggled, watching as Bucky polished off another glass, “don’t you wanna slow it down a little?”
With a smirk, he set the empty crystal on the countertop. “Worried I’ll have too much and do something to embarrass you, sweetheart?”
“You could never embarrass me, James,” you rolled your eyes, “and you also can’t get drunk.”
“S’not gonna stop me from trying,” he grinned, “now come here..”
Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side before you could give an answer. Not that you minded – you didn’t need an excuse to be as close to him as possible. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heavy aftershave that he wore. It was your favourite scent. The musk from it mixed with the spice of the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks. It was intoxication in the best way possible, superseding the several glasses of liquor that you’d consumed yourself.
“There is something else, if you think you can handle it.”
In your own little bubble, it was easy to forget that the two of you weren’t alone. Breaking your gaze away from Bucky, you saw one of your teammates making his way over to you with a delicately engraved bottle in his large hand.
“Hi Thor,” you smiled politely, “what is that?”
He held the bottle up proudly. “Asgardian liquor, the finest brewed there. It puts everything here on Midgard to shame.”
“I bet.” You chuckled.
“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Bucky grinned, stepping away from you momentarily to join Thor and some of the others in a round.
You folded your arms across your chest as you shook your head. The super soldier serum might stop his body from reacting to alcohol in the typical way, but it did have a particular effect on Bucky. You couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to get that little bit more handsy with you. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or maybe that was just an excuse to keep you close to his wandering hands.
Either way, barely twenty minutes had passed before your observation was proven true.
Your shoulder leaned against the back wall as you watched Steve and Tony play pool when Bucky joined you.
“Where’ve you been?” he murmured, “I was looking for you.”
His metal hand drifted up your side, tracing the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath to graze your hip. The metal raised goosebumps on your warm skin, and you shivered further back into his arms.
“Bucky, stop… what if someone sees?” You whispered.
Bucky didn’t ease up, rubbing soft circles on your hip as he drew you in closer. “It’s okay, nobody’s looking at us.”
You glanced around. The loud music masked your hushed whispers, and the addition of Thor’s Asgardian liquor had worked wonders on the team of superheroes. With all of their defences down, no one had noticed the way the pair of you had sidled off to the side.
“We shouldn’t risk it.” You whispered, reaching for his hand and stopping it in its tracks.
“Let’s get out of here, just for a little bit,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your jaw. The gentle ghost of his breathy murmurs in your ear sent your heart racing, “ten minutes, that’s all I need.”
“Are you really suggesting that we hook up in the middle of the party?” Your head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
“Why not?” Bucky pouted. His lips looked so damn kissable when he did that. The thought of giving in, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in a frantic need to satisfy the urge that you were starting to feel right now was starting to not seem like such a bad idea.
“Because…” Your voice trailed off in search of a compelling reason. Even the slightly hint of doubt would signal a dead giveaway to Bucky that you were more than willing to give in. And the worst part of it was the stupid grin on his face that told you he knew this too.
“Because?” He taunted, his smirk growing wider.
“Because…” The agitation in your voice grew as you struggled.
Bucky chuckled darkly, letting his right hand meet his other at your waist. He turned you slightly, until your back was against his chest. Grip tightening, he pulled your hips back into his. Pressed flush against him, you became all too aware of the way his tight, muscular body felt against yours. And that wasn’t the only thing.
“Bucky, are you-“
“Painfully.” He whispered, leaving another soft kiss just below your ear. Your head fell back to rest against his shoulder. Lips parting, a quiet whimper escaped from them. Bucky  tucked a curl behind your ear to lean in better, “What was that that I just heard, hm? You can resist all you like, doll. But your body’s betraying you.”
He was right of course, but you bit your bottom lip anyway in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting another sound slip. The more you tried to hide your growing desires, the more Bucky persisted. His hand slid down your hip to the hem of your skirt. He played with the material, gently grazing his fingers across the back of your thigh that was now exposed to him. Instinctively, your legs clenched as he dared to venture higher.
Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Bite your lip all you want. But what are you gonna do when you start to soak through your underwear and all over that pretty outfit of yours?”
Your face burned red as your gaze immediately fell downwards. Searching the front of your dress as discreetly as you could, your shoulders relaxed when you found that you hadn’t. But your reaction alone was enough to let Bucky know that you considered it a real possibility.
“Did I have you worried there for a second?” he mocked, “You know I’m right. Come on… ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes.” You said through gritted teeth.
“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, gripping your hand and pulling you out of the room.
It was a wonder that you made it to the bathroom at all. His hands were everywhere. Running through your hair, on your waist, cupping your cheek. But yours were the same, only pulling away just long enough to fumble with the bathroom door. It pushed open, and you both crashed through.
With a hand on his chest, you pushed him back to lean on the door. His eyes widened in at your sudden control, but who was he to stop you? Ripping the hand towel down off the rail by the sink, he dropped it to the floor to cushion you as you sank to your knees in front of him. You toyed with the zipper of his jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down in one as you pressed soft kisses to each inch of his bare skin that you exposed.
Bucky let out a tormented groan from the back of his throat as your tongue teased up to the head of his cock. He looked down at you and nearly buckled at the sight. Your hand gripping his thigh, hair messy and lipstick smudged. He watched your wet lips twist into a soft smirk that was so close to wrapping around him.
“When you said painfully, I had no idea this is what I’d done to you.” You cooed, innocently sliding your palm up and down his length.
Bucky hissed at the sensation and reached out to tilt your face up to look at him. His fingers were firm on your cheeks. “We’re down to nine minutes. You gonna keep talking with that sweet mouth, doll, or do you want to put it to good use?”
He didn’t have to ask twice. His tip grazed the back of your throat in one smooth motion. But you didn’t let it rest. You moved your head back and forth, letting your tongue trace over every vein. Bucky’s hand slid up from your jaw to cup your cheek, pulling you further around him as he met your movements with shallow thrusts. His view of you faded as his eyes squeezed shut, revelling in the overwhelming pleasure you were bringing him. The two of you might’ve set a time limit on this brief rendezvous but fuck he could let you go on like this forever.
Head falling back against the door with a soft thud, he growled. The animalistic sound ripped through his gritted teeth as he tugged your head back and off him. Pre cum lingered on your lips as you licked them clean.
Reaching for your hands he helped you to your feet and wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He walked you backwards until your bumped into the sink. Reaching for your thighs, he lifted you up to rest on the countertop. Your skirt slipped and bunched up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in, nudging himself between your legs. Gentle whines slipped out from your trembling lips as he brushed over your wetness.
“Bucky…” You begged softly.
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, sliding your underwear over to one side, “seven minutes.”
Bucky pushed his hips forward to meet yours, burying himself completely in you. His head dropped to the crook of your shoulder and his lips met your neck. Your arms curled around his broad back, scrunching up the material of his shirt as you clung desperately to him. Soft grunts from him reverberated up into your ear as he pulled out of you only to get sucked right back in by your tight cunt. With one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the sink, he kept you in position to take it all. Every stroke inside of you had you clenching down around him. His knuckles turned white as his fingertips pressed harder into your skin with each sharp thrust.
“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you with all our friends in the next room,” he muttered between delicate nips at the skin just below your ear, “and you had the nerve to act like you didn’t want this just as much as I did.”
Your hands moved up through his hair and down to the sides of his face as you leaned in, lips met his in a needy fashion. The kiss that followed was all-consuming, swallowing any quiet moans that might give the pair of you away. But shallow breaths slipped out here and there as Bucky rolled his tongue over yours in passionate frenzy.
He pulled on your hip until your body slipped closer to the edge of the sink, and you let out a small gasp. As Bucky’s lips parted from yours, he smirked at the fucked-out haze that glazed over your eyes as his cock rutted up deeper inside of you. As he quickened the twitch of his hips, your thighs tightened around his waist.
“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to pull out, doll.” He grunted softly.
Your brows furrowed as your head leaned back in a wave of pleasure. You weren’t listening to a damn word he was saying right now. Bucky’s hand left your hip briefly to tilt your head back to him.
“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up and fuck it back into you hard enough that it doesn’t leak out for everyone to see?”
Too out of it to verbally respond, your thighs gave him a light squeeze and answered for you. Bucky’s hand let go of your face and reaffirmed its position on your hip as he then set a ruthless pace. Your head slipped forwards to rest on his shoulder. Burying your face in the crook of his collarbone, your moans vibrated against his throat, driving him crazy. You let your body go limp in his hands as he worked to bring you both a release that the pair of you desperately craved.
Two more thrusts was all it took to bring you both over that delicious edge. His metal hand nearly snapped a porcelain chunk out of the counter with how hard he was gripping it when he came. But you were only the same, with your thighs shaking and breathing heavy. You fluttered around him with every beat of your heart, squeezing every drop of come out of his cock that he had to give you. He lazily rocked his hips a couple more times, coating every inch inside of you.
Bucky’s hands released your body from his tight grip as he gently brushed strand of messy hair out of your face, but he kept himself seated.
“You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.” He breathed.
Your pink cheeks pinched into a soft smile. “Maybe it was.”
“Maybe, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, not hesitating to lean into your neck.
“What are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his gentle kisses.
“What? I’ve still got one minute left.” He grinned playfully, trailing kisses up your cheek now as well.
“Bucky.” You whined, feeling his cock teasingly plunge deeper inside of you. Your sensitive body could barely handle any more.
“Fine,” he smirked, and slowly eased himself out of you, “but when this party’s over, I’m done holding back.”
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sweetestdesire · 2 days
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SO DAMN NEEDY
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes is a surprisingly needy boyfriend.
Arms tightened their hold on Y/N as Quinn groaned, burying his head into her chest. Sighing, she glanced at the clock, trying her best to wriggle out of his grip as he fell into slumber once more, but his arms locked her in place again. Mornings with Quinn always tended to be unproductive, he wasn’t one to give in once he decided on something and most mornings, he decided she’d stay in bed with him for as long as his heart was content.
"Quinn.” Y/N sighed, prodding at his shoulder. He pretended not to hear her, the little shit. She could feel the tiny smile on his lips against her chest. "Quinn, let go."
"No." He mumbled. "Don’t wanna." It was an everlasting effort to try not to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, he made the task harder than most. Pinching his arm, she glared at him when he jolted a little, staring at her in shock.
“Quinn, please.” Y/N sighed tiredly, but Quinn could hear the smile in her voice. He could even feel it as her lips pressed against his forehead in a gentle kiss, but he didn’t let the soft touch of her lips bribe him into letting go, however. Instead, he was shifting more weight to press onto her as his face hid in the crook of her neck, pulling an exasperated groan out of her as she glared down at him.
“No.” He mumbled, latching onto her body tighter. “Stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I need to get up.” Y/N huffed. “I’ll be late for work again.”
“Then be late. Just tell them you had important things to do.”
“Cuddling in the morning isn’t important, Quinn.”
“That’s rude.” Quinn interrupted, pouting into her neck as his hands squeezed her hips. “It’s important to me.”
Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, and couldn’t help but purse her lips as she looked down at the mess of hair under her chin as Quinn tucked himself into her. It was a losing battle every morning, a constant back and forth that she knew she was powerless to win. At first, Quinn seemed like a distant guy. He seemed like someone she’d get lucky to even hold hands with, someone who kept his space and maintained his composure. At least, that’s what she used to think.
It didn’t take long after dating to realize he was quite the opposite. That he was clingy in the mornings, that he needed far too many kisses throughout the day to be normal, that he followed her around the house like a lost puppy, that he couldn’t sleep without her playing with his hair at night. It was funny at first, it was cute and made her just a little giddy that he was as needy as he was around her, but sometimes, like right now for example, it was just a little inconvenient too.
Y/N rubbed over the bare skin of his back, feeling the rippling muscles under her palm. Letting out a content sigh, he nuzzled deeper into her, pressing a tiny kiss to her other hand when it laid on his cheek. “I really should get up.” She whispered.
“I missed you last night.” He mumbled. "Just wanna spend more time with you."
"Quinn, we spent the whole night together, what are you talking about?" Pouting, he gently guided her hand to his hair, leaning into her touch. She smiled at his ploy to get her to stroke through the strands, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she did.
"Didn’t even talk to me.” Quinn grumbled. "Just slept the whole time.” His voice was accusatory, as if she betrayed him for doing the norm and falling asleep. He pouted bitterly at the memory of being cut off during his rambling by her soft snore.
"Oh.” Y/N rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I’ll try not to do that next time."
"I’ll wake you up if you fall asleep while I’m talking tonight. Swear I’ll do it.” He warned. Y/N snorted, making him crack a smile, humming when she gently scratched at his scalp with her nails.
"Okay, drama queen. You’re bad for my sleep schedule, you know.” Y/N scowled. His eyes closed, the scent of her perfume and body wash wafting through his nose. “Quinn, you have to let go.”
“Don’t wanna.” He grumbled, grabbing her hand and planting it over his head. Y/N sighed and yet, she was tangling her fingers into his tresses and scratching at his scalp. And really, she hated to admit it, but maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was as spoiled as he was. She never seemed to really be able to fight against him, giving him exactly what he wanted no matter how many times she told herself not to.
“You’re so damn needy.” Y/N mumbled, slowly rubbing circles into his back as he sighed happily. She eyed the clock wearily, watching as the seconds ticked by and the minute hand moved slowly but surely until she was late just like she was every morning with him.
“No, I’m not.” Quinn murmured, and then his head tilted up and his lips tugged into a tiny pout as she pulled her hand away from his head. “Why’d you stop?”
“See?” Y/N snorted, pinching his nose affectionately. “Very needy.” Her hand moved to cup his face, rubbing a thumb over the swell of his cheek.
There was something satisfying about seeing someone like him pout as he pressed his face deeper into her palm, something that made her chest swell fondly as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, something that made him that much more human. Sometimes, Y/N almost didn’t think it was the same person. The man she’s watched shove sweaty bodies into the boards couldn’t be the one sprawled over her body right now, couldn’t be the one who whined for five more minutes of cuddles in the mornings as she was running late for work.
“Can’t you just call in sick?” Quinn grunted, plopping his head onto her chest, staring up at her as he propped himself up on his chin.
“No.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You ask me this every morning. The answer is still the same.”
“If you loved me, you would.” He grumbled, glaring at her as she poked his curled lips with a giggle.
“Don’t I love you when I run late every morning for your extra cuddles?”
“Hardly.”
“You’re so ungrateful.” Y/N flicked his forehead, chuckling as he clicked his teeth and swatted her hand away. “I risk my job for you every damn morning.”
“You don’t need it.” He insisted. “I’ll take care of you, and you stay with me in the mornings. It’s a win-win, see?”
“I don’t think being stuck under you is a win.”
“Oh, yeah?” Quinn grinned, making her heart skip a beat. “But you never seem to complain when you’re under me.” He said cheekily. And he was unfair looking up at her in that handsome way he did, throwing her that lopsided smirk with a strand of hair loosely hanging across his face. Y/N trailed her thumb along his cheeks and across his nose, tracing over his lips and under the crinkles of his eyes. For a moment, she thought maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s needy. She thought maybe she needed him just as badly as he needed her, too.
“Quinn.” Y/N groaned, throwing him a dirty look as he snickered. “I really have to get up.”
“Just five more minutes.” He pleaded, flopping back onto her chest and snuggling against her, tucking his head under her chin. And when she kissed his forehead, he was sure he won just like always.
“You said that like twenty minutes ago.” She raised an eyebrow.
“This time for real.” Quinn mumbled. It was a lie, she knew it as well as he did, but she didn’t think it was a morning without him clinging to her body until she was more than a little late. So with a fond smile and a roll of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him as she kissed the top of his head, pulling the blanket over his body as he sighed in content.
“You’re such a liar.” Y/N snorted, shaking her head as he smiled victoriously into her shirt.
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 days
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He's Not Yours
Pairing: Mafia!Jenson x Assistant!Reader
Rating: PG-17
Words: 3.2K
Warnings: Pregnancy, lying, angst, fluff, it's really just, yeah
Synopsis: One night changes your life, but one lie completely destroys it
Mafia Jenson: pt.1 Unattainable / pt.2 Slipping Through My Fingers
A/N: This was an idea @percervall and I talked about a long time ago and I’m finally writing it and yes this is part of the main story
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With shaking hands, you try to read the test before you; you are unwilling to believe what the test says. The two little lines mock you, making you sick. Taking another deep breath, you grab your phone and dial the first person you can think of. 
"I need you," 
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Lewis holds it as you sit on the couch, sobbing, trying to get control. You craved control, but instead, you've thrown your world into such uncontrollable chaos that your chest has tightened. Lewis takes an intense breath, blows out, puts the test down on the coffee table, and slowly bends to your height. 
"Jenson?" He asks the question slowly like he knew asking you would set off a whole wave of tears. You flinch at his name, the flashes of drinks, laughter, his hands on your body, pulling delicious toe-curling orgasms out of you. And the way he felt inside you. Shaking your head, you nod it slowly, and Lewis groans. He wants to yell at you for finally getting with Jenson and being so reckless. 
"Well, I know this isn't how you wanted to get with him, but Y/n." "He can never know," Lewis snaps his mouth shut, his eyes narrowing but softening when you look up at him. "Lewis, he can never know. Lewis, promise me, promise me you won't tell him." Lewis groans and hangs his head. Sighing, he pulls you into his arms as you cry into his chest. "I won't, I won't tell him." 
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You finally calmed down enough to talk with Lewis about being pregnant. Pregnant, you couldn't believe it. Pregnant with Jenson's baby, it made a smile tug at your lips, but you had to shake your head as it would be extremely dangerous having his child. You loved Jenson, and he loved you, yet you two kept up this game of not being together. Jenson was the head of a Mafia group, and if his enemies learned he had a child, he'd have a weakness, a weakness that would end with either the child's death or his, and you knew you wouldn't survive either. 
"I know you don't want to tell him, but you can't hide it," Lewis whispers, pouring you some juice, even though you'd really wish it was alcohol. "I'm not going to hide it, Lewis. Just tell him it's someone else's, baby," Lewis makes a disgruntled noise and sits down, shaking his head. "Y/n, I love you, but that would crush him. He loves you, and you two finally sleep together, and he has been chewing Fernando and I's ear off about how you two are finally coming together." The knife in your heart stabs deeper, tearing into the muscle with such force you choke on air. 
"If people find out that this is his child, they'll target the child, and Jenson would," You take a deep breath as the tears gather in your eyes. "Jenson would rather die than let his child be harmed. I can't lose them both," You whimper, hanging your head in shame. "You're going to lose him if you tell him that you're carrying another man's baby." Lewis loves you, he'd kill for you, has killed for you, he'd die for you, but he wouldn't support you in this. Jenson has been his friend for years, and this would crush his dearest friend. 
"You think I don't know that!" Your voice raises at the end, and you swallow back the bile burning your throat. "Lewis, just trust that I'm doing the right thing," Lewis has never seen you so broken. You were always this badass, tough woman who could cut a man down with one look. Hell, you've got Jenson Button down on his knees for you. "I don't think you're doing the right thing, but I'll be here for you, no matter what." Lewis moves, sitting down next to you and kissing your head. 
"We have the gala tonight," you whisper, and Lewis groans, knowing Jenson will be all over you. You know, last gala, I snuck off with Sebastian, and we were gone for a while," you whisper, and Lewis goes tense next to you. "Don't, Jenson and Sebastian are close," You chuckle, sipping at the sweet drink in your hand. "Sebastian and I were engaged once." His jaw drops as you nod, having never revealed that fact. "I'm sorry, what? You were once engaged to Michael Schumacher's right-hand man, now the German Mafia's leader?" Lewis pulls back, and a wet chuckle gets past your lips. 
"We were children, young, we met at university, and well, it was a whirlwind romance. We got so close to being married, but we both realized we didn't want this, so we stopped. Stayed good friends too," Lewis thinks over every interaction you've had with them, and you giggle, seeing the lightbulb go off. "Oh my god, that's how you got us to meet with them," you nod and start to laugh, feeling slightly lighter. 
"Jesus," Lewis sinks into the couch as you nod. Where did you...could it be?" You stop him and shake your head no. "No, Sebastian... no, we didn't sleep together," you admit, and Lewis nods his head, not wanting to doubt you, but right now, he needs a little doubt. "Would Sebastian even agree to this?" Sipping on the juice is the only thing that does not make you nauseous. "Yes, he owes me." Lewis raises an eyebrow, and you lean back into his arms, his fingers digging into your neck muscles. 
"Why does he owe you?" Lewis stops and shakes his head fast. "Actually, don't tell me, knowing you, it's probably something horrible." Your lip quirks up as you sigh and look at Lewis. "He's in love with Mark," "Oh yeah, he's in love with Mark," Lewis repeats, his eyes slowly growing wide as he lets the words sink in. "What, but Mark is," "Yep," You whisper sadly, remembering the night Sebastian sobbed in your arms about Mark and how he would never love him. 
"Does Mark," "He suspects something, but that's why tonight I'll be stuck by his side. He'll get drunk and do something reckless," You whisper, Lewis nods and looks at the time. "We should get going," You nod, standing as you look down at the pregnancy test. "Oh god, I'm pregnant." Lewis laughs and pulls you into his chest, rubbing your arm, "Yeah, yeah, you are," 
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"Something is off," Lewis tenses next to Jenson as he stares at you and Sebastian. Lewis tries hard not to make eye contact, worried he'll spill everything to Jenson. "What, no, nothing is off," Lewis answers far too fast, but Jenson doesn't clock it, staring a hole into your head. "How do Sebastian and Y/n know each other?" Lewis swears his muscles will rip from how tight they are, and Mark questions the closeness between you and Sebastian. 
Lewis wishes you could hear his thoughts as Sebastian puts an arm around your waist, and you lean into him. Lewis closes his eyes and sees Sebastian moving his hand lower and you inching closer. "Okay, I'm going to rip his hand off," Jenson slams his whiskey down, but Mark steps in. "Touch him, and I'll rip you apart." Jenson and Mark have a stare-down, Lewis panicking. "Stop it. They used to be engaged, so I'm sure there are still feelings there," Lewis blurts out, and he groans, knowing he just fucked up. 
"What?" Jenson's sound makes Lewis's blood run cold as Fernando walks up and giggles. "Eh, love birds are leaving," Lewis wishes Fernando could read a room. Actually, he could. He was just feeding into it." Jenson's eyes turn pitch black as Sebastian grins and leads you out of the gala. 
-------------------
"Congratulations," Sebastian whispers, and you smile, lying your head on his shoulder. "If anyone asks, can," "Of course, but you know I won't be in the baby's life; I'm going to be the cool uncle." You giggle, and he sighs, pulling you closer. "So, Jenson, you are having a baby." "No," Your voice is cold as you touch your stomach. "I'm having a baby, not Jenson. He was just a...a sperm donor." You spit and sigh as Sebastian stares at you with wide eyes. "Woah, alright, never mind. Noted, don't talk about Jenson." Sebastian whispers, and you groan, burying your face in your hands. 
"Sorry, it's the fucking hormones, if the time is right, I'm 3 months pregnant." Sebastian hums and takes off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders. "It's okay, but I'm serious; you can say I'm the father, but I can't be involved; he's around too much." You understood why Sebastian stayed away. It was too painful for him to constantly see Mark and not be with him. "I understand." And you did. It was unbearable for you to be around Jenson, even more so now that you are pregnant. 
"I could always move to Germany," You offer, and Sebastian chuckles and shakes his head no. "He'd follow you, and then rip me to shreds, and then just drag you back here." You nod your head, knowing that was all very true. "I'm glad I can call you my friend," Sebastian smirks and waves a hand over him. "Well, duh, I'm the better blonde." Giggling, you two stand up and walk back to the party; you shiver, feeling someone watching you. 
Turning, you see a distraught Lewis, a confused Mark, a smug Fernando, and a furious Jenson. Sebastian notices and moves, placing a delicate kiss on your lips and shocking you. You can see Fernando and Lewis holding Jenson back. "I hope you're making the right decision." You smile, and Sebastian gives you one last kiss, leaving you in the shadows. 
Walking over, you grab a drink, but Lewis quickly swaps them, and you nod. "What the fuck was that about?" Jenson growls, Mark even looking pissed, which has you thinking things over. "I was telling him some news," "Which is what? What could possibly have been your ex-fiance kissing you?" You whip your head to Lewis, who quickly looks away and whistles. "Nothing," Jenson tightens his hold on his glass and waves over the bartender. "Get her a real drink, please," "No, thank you," The guys stare at you, shocked; you always drink with them. "I can't drink," You whisper, unable to look them in the eyes. 
The bartender's eyes sweep over you and smile. "Congrats." He walks off. Jenson stares, but then a smile starts to grow. "Are you?" "Yes! And it's Sebastian's okay, but he wants... just leave it alone." You whisper. A pen could drop with how silent it was around you. Lewis, I want to go home now," Lewis nods and gathers you in his arms, noticing how you are still wearing Sebastian's jacket. 
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2 months later, 5 months pregnant
You stopped wearing your heels, and you hated it. Mark and Jenson kept towering over you, and you were annoyed with it. Since that night at the gala, Jenson hasn't said much to you, just small words here and there, but today, he asked you to come into the office early, so here you are, trying to figure out what he would want to say to you. 
Knocking on the office door, you push it open and see Jenson sitting in the same position you left him last night. "Did you stay the night?" You ask, shocked at his disheveled state. "Are you pregnant with my baby?" The question throws you off, shock flashing through your features, but you quickly school your emotions and take a deep breath. "No, Jenson, it's not your baby." His face, once stoic, breaks as he takes a deep breath and looks away. 
"There's...not even a chance?" He whispers, and you hate being pregnant at this moment because he's got your throat tightening without even touching you, eyes burning like fire has been thrown in them. "No," You choke on the word; clearing your throat, you roll your shoulders back and speak up. "No, there's not a chance." You repeat, and Jenson leans back, rubs his face, and nods. "Sebastian, he....he's going to be there for you, yes?" It wasn't really a question; it was more of a demand. "No, he wants nothing to do with the bug, baby." Jenson's face is cold, but then he cracks a smile. 
"Bug?" You sigh. It was something you started calling the baby, and it just stuck. Lewis even bought the baby a little bug plushie. "Yes, it's something I called the baby," "That's cute," Jenson stands and walks over before settling on his couch and patting the empty side. You move and sit down, feeling your feet ache as you whine. "I'm not the father, but I want to help Y/n," You open your eyes and stare at him. The raw emotion on his face eats you alive, Jenson has always spoken about how much he's always wanted to be a father, and here he is, the father of your baby, and you're hiding that from him. Taking away the one thing he's truly wanted. 
"Jenson, you don't have to," Jenson moves, his large hands wrapping around your ankles and lifting them to his lap, and slowly rub the soles of your feet. "Jenson, please, I'm doing this alone," You whisper and pull your feet in, knees tucked into your chest. Jenson stares at you, the rejection hurting, but he clears his throat. "So, I'm just your boss, and you're my assistant, and us fucking, us telling each other we loved one another, that never happened? Instead, you fucked, Sebastian, and now you're pregnant with his baby, not mine." Jenson snaps, standing up, and you flinch, his anger leaving just as quickly as it came. 
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm just," You don't know what comes over you, but you start to cry and hold your arms out to him, just wanting to feel his warmth and smell the whiskey and earth that clings to him. Jenson doesn't think twice and sits down, pulling you into his lap. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You repeat, sobbing into his chest. "It's okay, I'm here, I'm always here," 
----------------------
3 months later, 8 months pregnant 
You don't know how it happened, but one day, you were living in your lovely apartment, and suddenly, you were living in Jenson's home, painting the nursery together. Now, you're lying in bed, wondering if you should talk to Jenson. 
He wasn't his usual self; as your stomach grew, the more he refused to let you out of his sight, and you could tell he was slowly losing his mind. According to Lewis, he saw Sebastian not too long ago, and they both left the room with busted lips and black eyes. Jenson came stalking into the house, stormed past you, and locked himself up in his study hours ago. Unable to sleep, you throw the covers off and groan. 
Your stomach was heavier and heavier by the day as your little bug was dropping, getting ready for you to give birth. Holding your stomach, you waddle to his study and knock on the door softly. "Jense, it's me." You push it open with ease and stop seeing him sitting at the desk, his head down and a bottle of whiskey half empty. "Jenson," You whisper, close the door, and walk farther into the study. "Jenson, love," You whisper, hating how you living here has made you two grow closer, scary close for you. 
He looks up, and you hiss, seeing his eye and lip swollen. "That should be my baby; I wish it was my baby; I wish you were mine." He croaks, and you freeze, your hold on your stomach tightening. "Jense," "I would take such good care of you because I-.. because I love you." He whimpers, sounding so broken that you blink, and tears slide down your cheeks. Your chest aches; you knew he'd remember nothing in the morning. He was far too drunk to even correctly see if it was you in front of him and not some dream. 
"Jenson, he is yours," you whisper, stepping forward and cupping his face, wiping the tears as his hands touch your stomach, staring at it. "Don't hurt me like that, baby. It's okay; I don't need to lie to protect my heart. Don't care. I will care for them no matter what. I will care for both of you," He slurs with a sad smile. That ache in your chest grows as you pull him up; he stumbles but stands upright and blinks slowly. "Let's go to bed, Jense." Jenson nods and follows after you. He stumbles occasionally, but you carefully lead him into the room, and he flops onto his bed. 
"Go to sleep," You lean down and kiss his cheek, but he stops you, and you freeze, having never seen such vulnerability in someone before. "Stay, I'm, just stay," He begs, and you nod, not even thinking twice as you climb into the bed and sigh. Jenson's hand moves to your stomach, lying on it protectively. You flinch, feeling a little kick, and Jenson giggles. "Hey, little bug, I'm Jenson. I'm not your father, but I'll love you like one." You bite your bottom lip hard, trying not to sob as Jenson slips off into sleep, leaving you to sob quietly into the pillow. 
---------------------------
1 month later, Hospital 
Jenson couldn't believe it; this tiny little human, the tiny bug, was finally here, in his arms. You slept soundly as Jenson refused to leave your side, and Lewis was picking out the perfect outfit to take him home in. "Should we do the bugs?" Jenson makes a face, and Lewis sighs as Jenson can't look away. The tiny bundle was tucked tight in his arms, staring up at Jenson. Jenson hated that the baby had Sebastian's eyes, these perfect little blues, with a little button nose and perfect lips. 
"Here, dress him in this," Lewis says, holding out a pretty blue onesie, but Jenson shakes his head. He and the baby were doing skin-to-skin, and it felt like the perfect thing to do like the universe was frozen and nothing was wrong in the world. Jenson, you have to dress him." Lewis whispers, and Jenson finally looks away and groans, taking the onesie. "Ruining mine and bug's moment." "His name is Theodore, Theo for short." Jenson doesn't think it is possible, but he falls more in love with the little boy and his mother. 
"Called Sebastian," Mark walks into the room and coos at the little blue eyes staring at him. Mark freezes and looks at Lewis with realization; Lewis slowly shakes his head no, and Mark looks at you, sleeping peacefully in the bed, and back at one of his dearest friends dressing the tiny human. "Yeah, what did he say? Does he even want to see his son?" Jenson asks in a cheery tone, but they can hear the anger in them. 
Theo coos and yawns. Mark melts before shaking his head. "Um, he said, 'Oh, that's good,' and hung up." Jenson picks up little Theo and holds him close like any father would. "Fuck him," Lewis casts a glare, and Jenson doesn't see it too wrapped up in little Theo, who just stares right back at Jenson. 
"Jenson," Lewis whispers; his close friend looks up with so much happiness and love that Lewis feels his heartbreak. Don't forget, he's not yours." Jenson's smile fades, blinking slowly as he looks back down at Theo and then at you. I know, but a man could dream." Jenson's voice breaks as he leans down, kissing Theo softly. "A man could dream," he whispers softly. 
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arieslost · 15 hours
Note
getting into a silly argument with lando just for him to pull the “oooh you wanna kiss me so bad right now it’s embarrassing” card and blah blah blah you can go where you want from there 😙
this was so cute, thank you for sending this in! i hope you like it <3
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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kiss me | ln4
you’re sure you’re seeing things.
you’re used to seeing fancy cars all the time now, what with having lived with your boyfriend in monaco for the better part of a year, but you’ve been able to keep track of said fancy cars. so you know when there’s a new one.
a new one in your parking garage, right next to lando’s 765lt. meaning it’s in your parking spot that had never once harbored a car until this morning. and now there’s another 765lt there. in your favorite color, no less.
“lando norris!” you yell out the moment you’re through the doorway to your shared apartment.
the deer in the headlights look on his face is priceless. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to upset you.
“hi baby,” he says carefully, starting to step towards you when he’s stopped by you holding a hand up.
“no, you’re not going to sweet talk your way out of this one.”
he blinks at you a few times, watching as you take off your shoes and start pacing back and forth.
“did i forget something?” he chances, taking another step in your direction like he’s approaching a wild animal.
you glare at him. “forget something? like the car in the parking garage?”
“ohhhh,” it clicks then, and you watch, infuriated, as a smirk grows on his face.
“i don’t know why you’re smiling. how dare you?”
“how dare i?” he laughs, clearly entertained. “you’re always complementing my car. i figured you’d like one of your own.”
“so you just buy me a car?!”
he starts to admonish you, to try and sweet talk his way out of this, when he pauses. “you’re happy about this.”
“i most certainly am not,” you disagree instantly, immediately getting flashbacks to when you saw the car and became giddy at the mere possibility of it being yours.
“you most certainly are,” he argues, now approaching you with ease.
“get away from me, norris,” you threaten weakly, stepping back with every step he takes towards you.
“i don’t think i will,” he shrugs, grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you into his body, and you can’t resist his embrace. “i think you’re so overcome with excitement that it’s manifesting as something else entirely.”
“it’s a car, lando. how many times have i told you that i don’t need these kinds of things?” you narrow your eyes at him, resting your chin against his chest.
“i know you don’t need them, pretty,” he sighs, kissing your forehead. “but i really wanted to get it for you. you’ll look so sexy driving it.”
you roll your eyes, pushing away from him. “i hate you so much.”
“you looove me,” he coos, following you as you walk into your bedroom.
“go away. i’m mad at you.”
“are you?” he asks, leaning against the doorway as you pull out loungewear to change into.
you glare at him again, hating how good he looks just standing there looking at you.
“i knew it. you wanna kiss me,” he states, like it’s obvious.
“what? i don’t think so,” you respond, turning your back on him as you change.
“i do. you gave me that look. you know the one.”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you pull your shirt over your head and reach for a hair tie on your nightstand, just to give yourself something extra to do so you don’t have to look at him a little longer, otherwise your indignant mindset will crack.
“you wanna kiss me so bad,” he teases.
“no thanks.”
“you wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing. you can’t even look at me.” he points out, and damn him for it.
you look at him. and promptly blush the moment you meet his eyes.
“i knew it,” he sings triumphantly, waltzing over to where you stand fiddling with your hair tie.
“i’m mad at you,” you reiterate.
“fine. you’re mad. i’m sorry, but i can’t return the car. well, i could. but i’m not going to. kiss me.”
“you’re insufferable,” you whine, once again relenting when he gets his arms around your waist.
“and you want to kiss me, so just do it.” he squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips cutely, and, well, what else are you supposed to do but kiss him?
he hums happily against your lips, gently stroking your hair even when you part. “can i braid it for you?”
you want to argue with him and tell him to stop being cute, but you’ve never be able to resist him.
“thank you for the car, lan,” you mumble as he sets to his task. “i love it.”
“what do you love more, me or the car?”
“the car, obviously.”
he gives your hair a playful tug, and you giggle, reaching back to pinch his hip.
“i’ll keep this in mind for next time.”
“next time?!” you make eye contact with him in the mirror next to your nightstand, and he just smiles innocently in the way that never fails to make you melt.
damn him.
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word count: 860
masterlist — join my tag list here!
note: wishing my f1 driver boyfriend buying me a mclaren 765lt was my biggest life problem rn. also i finished writing this like 20 mins before posting so if there’s anything wrong pls tell me
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo
797 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 19 hours
Text
followed (part one)
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words: 1.2k
warnings: stalker (not rafe), violence, rafe beats someone up but the guy is a creep
followed (part one) / accused (part two)
“hey.” you whisper, ducking under the man's outstretched arm as he looks at the various snacks on the shelf. “pretend you know me, please. i'm being followed.”
rafe doesn't really question it, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and smiling down at you, just as a man turns down the aisle. 
“there you are, baby!” you put on a big smile, eyes still wide, telling the truth of your feelings as rafe can see how nervous you are. “been looking all over the store for you!”
rafe can see the guy, overdressed in lots of layers of jackets, physically deflates when he sees you're no longer alone and defenseless.
“sorry, babe. i got caught up with the snacks.” rafe laughs, grabbing a random bag off the shelf and dropping it into his basket. 
“its okay.” you shake your head. “just happy we're back together.”
rafe keeps you close to him, arm wrapped around your shoulder as the man moves away. you let out a sigh of relief, head tipping forward to rest against rafes chest.
“thank you.” you say before straightening up and taking a step back.
“no problem.” rafe could tell how pretty you were from the moment he saw you, but now that you're not riddled with nerves, he can see that you're gorgeous. he shifts the basket to his other hand as he reaches out. “im rafe.”
“y/n.” you shake his hand, palm still slightly sweaty.
“let me stick with you while you shop, yeah? just in case he comes back.”
“oh my god, i would really appreciate that.” you lay a hand over your chest. “i dropped my basket a couple aisles back when he turned down the same row.”
rafe follows you, keeping his head on a swivel. he knows he can take the guy, he looked on the older side from the brief glance rafe had at him, but that doesn't mean he wants to get surprise attacked.
“i don't have much more that i need to grab.” you explain to rafe, walking just a step in front of him, causing you to turn down the aisle first.
you gasp and back up into rafe when you realize the same man is now hovering over your basket, waiting on you to return to it.
“i got you.” rafe whispers, dropping his basket, causing it to clatter against the floor. the man glares and doesn't back off like rafe was hoping he would.
“back away from my girls shit.” he growls out, dropping his voice. 
“oh yeah, what are you gonna do? beat me up and then get arrested? there's cameras everywhere.” the man says, taking a step forward.
rafe is quick to reposition himself to stand in front of you. “and then those same cameras will see you following my girlfriend all over the store. get out before i beat your ass.”
the man looks rafe up and down before rushing away, hopefully finally actually leaving.
“shit.” you let out a whine, causing rafe to quickly whip around to face you, seeing tears welling up in your eyes.
“hey, you're safe now.” rafe says, placing his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them. when the tears break loose and slide down your cheeks, he pulls you forward into his chest, allowing you to sniffle until you've got yourself under control.
“sorry.” you laugh awkwardly, wiping away the tears before realize you'd left most of them as a stain on rafes shirt.
“it's okay.” he says. “men who mess with women and kids are the worst.”
you nod in agreement. “i don't know how to thank you…”
“you can thank me by not wasting your tears on that creep, alright?”
you nod as rafe grabs your basket, not handing it to you as he picks up his own. “what else do you need to get?” he asks.
“um, just some snacks.” you follow rafe as he confidently walks through the store.
you finish your shopping together before heading to the checkout. rafe doesn't even let you argue as he pays for what you have in your basket, a little shocked by how much he makeup costs, but he knows it won't dent his bank account.
“shouldn't i have paid for you since you helped me?” you ask as you walk out of the store, glad that the parking lot is lit up with street lights, as the sun has set.
“nah.” rafe just smiles at you. “now where's your car? wanna make sure you get in safe.”
you lead him towards your jeep, watching his muscled arms as he puts your couple bags into the trunk.
“thanks so much. i… i don't even want to think about what would have happened to be if you weren't there.” you take a deep breath.
“hey, don't worry about it.” rafe watches you climb into your car, giving him a small wave before taking off. rafe watches you leave, turning out onto the street before walking to his car. 
hes about to pull out of his parking spot himself when he sees a beat up sedan sat in the darkest spot of the lot, right under a burnt out light. rafe squints into the darkness, letting out a growl when his suspicions are right. 
he leaves his car, not bothering to sneak as he walks up and taps on the window. the man is disgruntled but rolls it down.
“there's cameras in the parking lot too.” he says.
“yeah, but it's pretty dark right here.” rafe looks around before reaching into the open window, holding the man by the collar while his other fist pummels into him, hitting his face over and over until it's a bloody, bruised mess.
“that'll teach you to never mess with poor defenseless women ever again, fucking creep.” rafe isn't finished yet though as he spits onto the man, taking the keys out of the car and tossing them away, leaving the man to have so scrounge on the ground for them later.
“shit.” rafe turns around to see your car is back in the parking lot, your eyes wide as you watch him from the drivers seat.
rafe wipes the blood off his knuckles onto the guys shirt before walking over to your jeep.
“im sorry you had to see that.” rafe says as you step out, piece of paper in hand.
“it… its okay.” you shake your head. “im glad you did that.” you're not one for violence, but the creep had it coming.
“are you okay?” rafe asks, not sure why you came back, but he's glad to see you again.
you stick your hand out, giving the paper to rafe. “came back to give you my number. can't believe i left without doing that.”
“ah.” rafe smirks. “seeing me beat up that guy didn't make you change your mind?” he sticks the paper into his pocket, knowing he's going to pull it out the second you're gone to save it to his phone then memorize the digits.
“not at all.” you admit, looking down at your feet. “if anything, it makes me like you more.”
“dinner this friday?” rafe doesn't want to wait to plan out your date, needing to know before letting you go when he will see you again.
“that's too far away. how about tomorrow?” 
rafe is surprised how forward you are, but grateful for it as he nods. “ill text you.”
“ill be waiting.”
sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie
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sincerelyneo · 2 days
Note
could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
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❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
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The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
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Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper. 
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 
“Mark…” 
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
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wqnwoos · 3 days
Text
it’s well past two in the morning when all your guests have left, and it’s just you and jeonghan and some cardboard boxes.
the two of you are taping the last of his boxes shut, a movie you’ve seen a million times playing on the television, both of you talking and laughing over it. the party has just died down — yours and jeonghan’s farewell party.
he’d said it sounded too dramatic, when you first brought it up. because neither of you were going far. you to your new studio apartment and jeonghan moving in with seungkwan, now that the lease was up and the owner wasn’t planning to renew it. jeonghan had dubbed it the “house-cooling” party instead, the opposite of housewarming — the kind of stupid joke he only makes to you.
still, though, as you sit among the boxes and leftover pizza, you feel kind of — wistful. when you say as much, jeonghan laughs, reaching over to tap under your chin fondly.
“wistful?” he repeats, smiling.
you huff at him. “i’m going to miss you, that’s what i’m saying, you ass.”
“i’m not going far,” he reminds you. “we’re literally within twenty minutes of each other. fifteen on a good day.”
“still!”
“i’ll visit you all the time. i’ll get tired of seungkwan doing karaoke. and then we’ll basically be roommates again, because he doesn’t stop doing karaoke.”
jeonghan’s tone is light and easy, but you can’t help wondering why the two of you aren’t going to be roommates again. why you hadn’t looked for an apartment together. neither of you had brought it up, things just fell this way, and all of a sudden you’re thinking about how jeonghan always moves your washing to the dryer for you and how much you’re going to miss him.
because you really are — not just because of laundry. you guys were roommates before you became actually close, brought together by mutual friends; you’ve never known a jeonghan that wasn’t jeonghan, my roommate, and suddenly it feels a little like losing him. because suddenly you love him, and not in a jeonghan, my roommate way. not in a jeonghan, my friend way either — in a way that puts aches in your chest, has your ribs living up to their name, acting a cage for your heart. you’re not sure how long it’s been, but it’s been long enough.
you’d been clinging to the hope that it would pass; everyone knows you don’t date your roommate. but now — now he’s not your roommate, and it hasn’t passed, and you don’t know whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing anymore.
on one hand: you could tell him. bare it all out, in the open, raw and bloody and unfettered. on the other hand: there are so many things you would rather do than experience rejection. you’d be able to take just being his roommate if you needed to. could’ve held out until it passed.
“maybe we should’ve moved in together again,” you voice, forcing your voice light and airy and casual, playing it like a random off-hand suggestion.
jeonghan’s vehement shake of the head is surprising, and it stings. more than you expected. “no.”
you can quite literally feel your face fall, staring at him without pretence. “what?”
he looks up from the box he’s packing, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his brown eyes. “ask me why,” he instructs softly.
you swallow thickly. it’s hard not to, when he’s looking at you like that — warm and familiar and intense and scary, all at once. your eyes follow the strand of dark hair that falls over his forehead, suddenly realising just how close he is. “why?”
jeonghan sets down the tape, tilting his head to the side, choosing his words slowly, carefully. “because if i ever ask you to move in with me again, it’ll be very different to this. can you pass me the scissors?”
you barely even hear the last part. “different? different how?”
“just… different.” he shrugs, reaching over you for the scissors himself. “you’ll be dating me, for one thing.”
time seems to come to a halt when he says those words, and you barely manage a whisper — “what?”
jeonghan rolls his eyes and pokes your forehead. “i’m trying to say i’m in love with you, dipshit. can you please take a hint?”
you malfunction. it’s late and your brain is already fried enough from finals and he’s staring at you, and this isn’t a dream, this is real.
and so you launch your roll of tape in his direction.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?”
jeonghan doesn’t even need to dodge the tape, but still gapes at you. “what?”
“you can’t— just drop a love confession like a — like a hot potato, and then expect me to catch it!”
“a hot potato?” he repeats, and then he’s biting down on a laugh, shoulders shaking. “did you just call my love confession a fucking hot potato?”
“no! yes, well — ” you flounder, confused in your embarrassment. “oh my god. you’re so mean. i wasn’t ready.”
jeonghan’s still laughing. “if i’d warned you in advance, what would you have answered?”
and now it’s your turn to stare him down: “you didn’t ask anything yet. what am i supposed to answer?”
that only tilts jeonghan’s smile further upward, and he scoots closer, leaning on one arm. you can smell him, soft and fresh and so incredibly near, as he speaks — “you’re smart. i think you can work it out.”
you kiss him first. quick and sweet, over and over. you think it’s probably answer enough.
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also in my head this is the same couple from this drabble but they can be read separately
an / hana comeback era ⁉️ this is just something i wrote super quick but HIII it’s been almost 2 months since i posted some writing 😭 i’m so sorry this awful piece is the first thing u guys get, hopefully will write something better soon!
perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura @dokyeomkyeom
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zepskies · 2 days
Text
Imagine: Soldier Boy Getting Jealous...
Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || (past Frenchie x F. Reader)
Request: Soldier Boy finding out you had something with Frenchie, years before meeting him.
Word Count: 1K
Tags/Warnings: Jealousy lol (With a hint of spice.~)
Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.
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He doesn't care.
Because he doesn't care...
When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.
Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.
"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.
But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.
At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.
"So you're chill?" you ask.
"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.
"You're okay with this," you amend.
Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.
"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.
It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.
But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.
"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."
"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."
"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.
You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.
Frenchie eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.
Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.
"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.
Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.
You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.
...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.
After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.
"You okay?" you ask knowingly.
"Just fine," he deadpans.
"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"
Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"
"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."
Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."
You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.
Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.
"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.
You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.
Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.
It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.
Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.
"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.
"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."
Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.
Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.
"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.
"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."
You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.
"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.
He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.
Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.
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AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
SB Tag List (Part 1):
@melancholictearz @spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions
@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky
@teehxk @midnightmadwoman @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem
@deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees
@xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley
@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105
@liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @tmb510
@iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waynes-multiverse
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formula1blog · 3 days
Text
Carlos Sainz 55- spending time
Carlos Sainz x Fem!Reader
Summary: you and your boyfriend finally have a day to yourselves. You want to make the most out of it.
Wc: 2,8k
Warning: lots of nicknames, translated Spanish, Some smutt at the end MDI!
DON'T USE MY WORK PLEASE
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It was one of those days when you and your boyfriend both had the day off. It didn't happen often. Carlos was always traveling or training for the next race. He was on the other side of the globe most of the time. Being a personal stylist yourself and having your own mode magazine didn't leave you with a lot of spare time. You traveled a lot in the fashion season, attending shows and even walking some yourself. The thing was that when you had to travel, Carlos was home and vice versa. Of course you both visited each other at your work, supporting each other career. But both of you having free time was rare, so this was a special day. 
This is how you found yourself in bed cuddled up against the chest of your Spanish boyfriend. You sun had woken you up because you had forgotten to close the curtains after last night's encounters. Both of you hadn't moved to close them, to wrapped up in each other's embrace. Your finger was painting circles on his bare chest as his hand went to massage your head. "This is nice." Carlos whispered, echoing your own thoughts as you both basked in the peacefulness of the morning. The world outside seemed to fade away, forgotten in the midst of your shared connection and the desire to simply be together. You knew you wanted to spend some time outside of your home today and for that you had to get up. 
"We can go out for breakfast. I fancy some tortilla Espanola." You look up at your boyfriend, the corners of your mouth moving up in a smile. Carlos returned your smile, his eyes twinkling with warmth and affection as he leaned in to place a sweet kiss on your head. "Just give me a couple of minutes, mi vida. Then we can head out," he promised, his voice filled with tenderness and love. You hum in response. Carlos's fingers continued to weave through your hair, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as you fought the urge to drift back to sleep. You didn't want to 'waste' this day together by laying in bed all day. You wanted to make the most of every moment spent in each other's company.
Eventually you both got out of bed. Your Dior slip on dress had moved a bit in your sleep, your side boob hanging out. "We can also just take it off completely." Carlos tucked on the dress a mischievous smile on his lips. Before he could take it off you slap his hand away. "You have to waite till tonight cariño. I want to go for breakfast first." he groans in response way too eager for your love right now. You laugh at him as you walk towards the bathroom. It had been your routine that Carlos would make you both a cup of coffee as you went to get dressed. After that you could pack as he took a shower. So that was exactly what you were both doing right now.
Carlos was sitting in the kitchen making two cups of coffee as he heard you singing in the other room. He smiled to himself. He really won in life with you. You walk out of the bathroom in only your blouse looking around for your necklace that you couldn't find. Carlos followed you with his eyes, sometimes looking down at your but. When he noticed that you were looking for something he stood up and went to stand behind you. Putting his hands in your waist he asks "What are you looking for?" You turn around facing him and look up to see in his eyes. His gorgeous big brown puppy eyes. "One of my Vivienne Westwood necklaces. The one that you got me. I don't know where I put it. "
"I got you lots of those." You were obsessed with her jewelry line and he just had to give you everything you looked at for more than one second. You had quite the selection of her stuff. "I know you did. I am forever grateful for that even if I tell you that you don't need to get me those." He shrugs his shoulders knowing he would buy you another right now. "The Valentina Pendant. Have you seen it?" 
"Is that how you are going out." Carlos asks with a smile on his face as he looks at you still not wearing a skirt. A confused look appeared on your face thinking he didn't like what you were wearing before you saw that your legs were still bare of any clothes. 
He did indeed see it a couple minutes ago. He lets go of your waist much to your own disliking and walks to the coffee table. The necklace was laying on top of the current book you were reading. He picked it up and walked back to you. He moved your hair to the side and put it around your neck. "Thank you." You turn around and stand on your tip toes to give him a kiss. He pulls you right back when you want to leave. His hands had moved down to your ass, squishing it a bit. You smile into the kiss and you almost give in to him. "Not now, Carlos. We have things to do. Go get ready!" 
"Alright" He sighs. "There is coffee for you on the counter." He kisses your head and walks towards the other room. You thank him and grab your drink. Sitting down on one of the chairs you check your mail for any important news. You saw a new invitation for a fashion show and some questions about collaborating. You put them unread not wanting to answer them right away. You put your empty cup into the sink, also cleaning up after Carlos who hadn't yet cleaned up his stuff.
You ran back to the bedroom and walked out, this time wearing the skirt you wanted to wear. You checked if you had everything in your bag before walking out of the apartment. 
You walk hand in hand through the busy streets of Madrid. Even though you had moved in by Carlos two years ago, the city never disappointed you.
You can't help but smile as he pulls out a chair for you to sit and you exchange warm glances. His efforts to showcase the beauty and charm of Spain never go unnoticed, but you playfully resist admitting that it is indeed the best country. 
Carlos leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "Come on, admit it. You know Spain is the best," he teases, nudging you gently.
You laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe it's pretty great, but I'll never say it's better than my home country."
The waiter approaches, interrupting your conversation, and you both place your orders. The suspense of your upcoming show hangs in the air as you share with Carlos that you received an email about a performance.
"So, when's the show? I can't wait to see you up there, shining on stage," he says with a grin, his eyes full of admiration.
"I still need to check the details. Don't want it to clash with any plans," you reply, a warm feeling of gratitude for his support. He nods his head agreeing with your statement. 
As you sit at the cozy, sunlit table outside your favorite cafe in Madrid, you can't help but reflect on the memories you have made in this vibrant city. Three years back you were here on a holiday with a couple of friends. That was the moment that you met the man in front of you. The love of your life. You had gotten lost in the crowded streets and asked a stranger for directions. He walks you towards your destination and gave you his phone number. You hadn't sent him a message right away, scared that he may be a creep. Your friends had convinced you after they heard you say his name. They knew he wasn't a creep. He is your future husband. 
You both look up by the sound of the waiter approaching your food. You take the food and thank him before turning back to your conversation. 
"I cleared by schedule for next week so I can come to Imola with you." You say and take a bite from your tortilla Espanola. His face lights up as you mention it. "Really? I already have a paddock pass for you. You are going to bring me luck." You smile at him. It had been some time since you were in the paddock. You really hated yourself for not being there so often as other wags. They all have their own jobs and they still managed to visit their boyfriends. 
After your brunch you walk through some shops. Carlos had bought a new suit for an upcoming event he had to attend. You had bought a matching dress for the event and a new top for next race weekend. 
Right now you were walking in a Victoria Secret and were looking at some new lingerie sets. The last two were broken after some fun activities you had done with Carlos. "What about this one." He shows the set to Carlos. It was a blue one, with lace trim and a little heart on the nipple coverage.
"It is beautiful, just like all these others you have chosen." He sat admiring you in every piece. He was already carrying some of the sets you had picked out and you disliked the idea of him having to waite much longer so you got dressed in your own clothes. When you got out of the changing room Carlos had already paid for everything and was carrying your bags. When you asked for them he just gave you his hand and walked out of the shop. 
"You didn't have to pay for that. I got my own money." 
"What kind of boyfriend would I be to let you pay. Everything you want i will get it for you, mi amor." He kisses your cheek. You blush at his words. "What if I wanted to get a special limited edition car that cost way too much." 
"Then I get it for you. Do you have anything in mind right now. I know that you want a Porsche. I can get it for you. Or a Ferrari, I personally really like those." He jokes in the last sentence. 
It was getting late and you were walking back. "Want to get some ice cream?"Carlos asks as he points towards a Gelato shop. 
"Won't your trainer disapprove?" You ask, knowing that ice cream isn't part of his training and dieting schedule. You are pretty sure it is somewhere at the bodem, just under all other delicious food.  "What he doesn't know doesn't hurt him. Lets go." He takes your arm and together you walk to the shop. The line isn't too long and you can already order after five minutes. 
"I love ice cream." You lick your cone. You had gotten a cone with pistache and white chocolate. You always take the same, can't go wrong with pistache. It is the best. Carlos had a cone with a vanilla scoop. A bit basic, but always delicious too. 
Carlos was still carrying your bags so he couldn't take your hand for the rest of the walk home. You had tried multiple times to ask to hand over your bags, but he just shrug and walked further.
You had stopped and took a picture of the sunset. While you were doing that Carlos took pictures of his sunset, You. For him you are the most beautiful thing in this universe. When you were done it didn't take long to reach your apartment. 
He opens up the door for you to walk through and you find yourself back in your home. You go to sit on a chair and take off your heels. "Finally free." Carlos shakes his head. He knows that those heels go and hurt your feet after more than one hour and still you refuse his suggestion to wear more comfortable shoes. 
Carlos walks towards the bathroom and you take this as your cue to run to your bedroom. You grab your Victoria secret bag and take out one of the sets that you had just bought. Carlos hadn't seen this one yet. It was a red piece with little coverage. You put it on and admire yourself in the mirror. You hoped he liked it. 
You heard the door open again and you went to place yourself on the bed. "Carlos, can you come here real quick?" You say as his footsteps get closer. You see him stop right in his tracks as his eyes stop you. "Mierda, eres tan Hermosa." he breathes out as he walks closer to you. He goes to sit on the bed and you lock eyes. His hand grabs your chin as he moves your head closer to his. Your lips touch into a deeply kiss as a soft moan escapes his lips. You move yourself onto his lap. 
You start to move your hips into his and Carlos groans at the sudden movement against his dick. The bulge in his pants was growing with each movement that you made. A moan leaves your mouth at the growing feeling under you. His lips attach to your neck as his hands move you closer to him. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your breast before staying in one place which was definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow. Your finger tucks on his shirt mentioning it that it has to go off. "It isn't fair that you are still wearing all of your clothes." He removes one of his hands from your ass and takes off his shirt. 
You go from his lap to help him with his belt. You stroke your hand over his throbbing area, this time a louder moan leaves his mouth and it sounds like heaven to you. Tonight the neighbors won't be getting any sleep.  You go further down the bed as Carlos takes of his pants leaving him in only his underwear. He towers over you both hands on either side of your head. He leans back down to place a kiss on your lips. You gasp as his hands move up your leg towards your wetness. He slips in his tongue when your mouth opens. "So needy for me already." He says as his fingers stroke over you pussy. The thin fabric of the lingerie doesn't do too much as you feel yourself asking for more. "Please, Carlos. I need you to touch me. "
He smirks. He pulls down your panties. He puts in one finger helping your adjust to it a bit before adding another. He keeps kissing you as he starts pumping his finger into your pussy. Moans leave your mouth as he takes up the speed. "So beautiful. So loud and all for me."He leaves a kiss between your breast. Your riding his fingers had been something you looked forward to since this morning. He feels you getting closer around his fingers and he takes them out just before you reach your climax. You groan in frustration as you feel empty. "Why?" You cry out. He places another kiss to make it up. "I want you to come all over my cock, princessa."
He takes off his underwear and his already hard cock  springs out. You moan at the sight of it. "Please, just fuck me. " He puts his dick by  your entrance moving it a bit up and down. Your hand fly in to his hair pulling in frustration. You need him now.
He enters you and fills you up. Pain went over you but it was fast replaced with pleasure as he began to move in and out of you. Your hands grab the duvet under you  and the feeling of pleasure goes over you. "Papi, faster" You scream out. Carlos didn't mind if everyone heard you. Right now was all about love. He picks up his pace and your eyes roll into the back of your mind. You feel a familiar knot forming in your belly and you know you are close "Don't stop, please I am so close." He feels himself getting closer to his own orgasm as you tighten around him. He goes a bit faster and you back arches. Heavy panting is heard as you both come riding out  your orgasms. 
Carlos catches his breath before sliding out of you an empty feeling leaving you behind. He walks to the bathroom and gets a wet towel. He helps clean you up and places a kiss on your mouth. " I love you, mi vida." He lays next to you and you put your head on his chest. " I love you too."
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mariasont · 2 days
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Date Night - A.H
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a/n: i have been so obsessed with the nanny recently so this is kind of based off that
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader
summary: you get home from the world's worst date
warnings: none i think, IDK IM SO BAD AT THESE
wc: 0.9k
To put it quite frankly your date sucked. He was disrespectful to the waiter, made really unsettling noises while eating, talked incessantly about his ex, and worst of all, he didn't let you get a word in edge wise (a major issue because you really like to talk).
Saying you were disappointed would barely scratch the surface. The rarity of your dates, thanks to your demanding role as a live-in nanny for Viriginia's most occupied FBI agent, made your free time all too precious. Mr. Hotchner was home this weekend, which granted you some time off, well-deserved you might add, but you had wasted it on some sad excuse of a man who made you believe that chivalry really was dead.
You had a clear mission when you entered the house: to drown the evening's disappointment in a generous pour of red, slip into your comfiest pajamas, and indulge in trashy reality TV, which, by comparison, casted your night in a much more flattering light. You were beginning to accept that maybe, you were meant to be alone, only because men sucked.
You all but threw your jacket into the closet, kicking off the pumps that had spent the night punishing your heels, and bent to rub the throbbing pain, releasing a sigh steeped in disappointment.
"You're home early."
Your heart leapt to your throat, hand flying to your chest on reflex as you whirled around to face the sight of Mr. Hotchner lounging in the armchair, a whiskey glass cradled in his hand. The light from the lamp beside him served to accentuate the shadows beneath his eyes, no doubt caused by his job. So, what he was doing up was beyond you.
"Geez, Mr. Hotchner, are you trying to give me a heart attack here?"
A mock frown creased your face, and you sauntered over to his chair. You settled on the armrest beside him and smoothly relieved him of the glass, taking a small, savoring sip. Annoying him was one of your favorite pastimes, one that was all too rare with his usual absence.
"So, what's the occasion? Waiting up for me?"
He wasn't amused, clearly, his face unchanging. With a deliberate motion, he took the glass back, taking another casual drink, and despite his stern look he didn't move away from you. His eyes shot you a sharp glance, withholding any spoken response.
With a light tap on his shoulder, you hopped down from the arm of the chair.
"It's okay, you don't have to say it. I can read you like a book," you tossed him a wink, your dress flirting with the edge of modesty at the quick action. His eyes briefly betrayed him, moving towards the expanse of flesh now on display. "Ahem, Mr. Hotchner, my face is a little higher."
You gently nudged his chin upward with your finger, guiding his attention to your eyes. You loved his eyes, a cocoa brown color that reminded you of rich, velvety chocolate truffles, a comparison you were pretty sure had slipped out when he interviewed you.
"Careful," he cautioned in a low murmur, easing himself from the chair and setting his glass aside. "As your employer, it's reasonable for me to be concerned about your well-being, you are the woman who raises my child."
"Oh, absolutely, sir. Your concern is most reasonable and duly noted," you replied with an exaggerated formality, lightly tapping his cheek before neatly tucking your hands behind your back.
He traced his brow with his fingertips, as if to smooth away the beginnings of a headache, undoubtedly brought on by you. A sigh of exhaustion followed. "I trust I don't need to remind you of who signs your paycheck."
With a beaming smile, you sing out, hands moving to rest on your hips. "Totally clear on that, sir!" You turn and head up the stairs, your mumble just loud enough for him to catch, "A little raise wouldn't hurt though, just saying!"
He's close behind as he warns in a low voice, "Don't push your luck."
You stop so suddenly he almost stumbles into you and you feel his hands steady you on your hips, dangerously close to the curve of your ass as you glance back at him.
"Oh, I wouldn't dare, sir."
A slight shake of his head and those perceptive eyes convey all he doesn't say as his hands fall away, the space they leave behind feeling oddly empty. 
"So, the date didn't go well?" he asks as you reach the top of the stairs.
"No, I didn't say that. It was wonderful, perfect actually." You'd always been a terrible liar, and naive for thinking he'd fall for it. "He might just be the man of my dreams."
He gives you a look that tells you he sees right through your bullshit. "Let me guess, he probably ordered for you without asking, talked over you, and didn't even bother to walk you to your door."
"Uh, no, that's not--," you start, voice squeaking slightly. His unimpressed look makes you fold--something you found yourself doing way too often around him. "Okay, fine. But really, using those weird FBI skills on me? That's playing dirty, Mr. Hotchner."
"No 'weird FBI skills' required," he replies, the slightest smirk gracing his stupidly handsome face. "Your taste in men is just... consistently interesting."
"Interesting is better than non-existent, which I believe is the current state of your dating life, Mister."
He moves closer, the narrowing space nudging you against the wall. "Well, considering my days are filled with work, parenting, and apparently, babysitting you, dating isn't exactly a priority."
He was kind of hot when he was mad. His eyes narrowed at you. Okay, not kind of, definitely hot when mad.
"Oh, Mr. Hotchner, it sounds like you need a night off from all that babysitting," you purr, placing your hands on his shoulders as you grace him with a smile. "Why don't we discuss your options over dinner? My treat?"
A sigh of exasperation escapes him, a telltale sign that he's done with the conversation, which actually is how a lot of your discussions end. He steps back and opens the door to your room. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mr. Hotchner, see you in the morning," you say, your hand pausing on his arm just a beat too long. "Sweet dreams--though I'm sure I'll be in them."
taglist: @hotchhner
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int3rnetprincess · 1 day
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guys guys guys listen…
pervy!stepmom!wanda who innocently offers you some wine after dinner, only so she can slip a few libido pills into your drink. she sees you start to change your position more frequently, your furrowed brows and foggy eyes struggling to focus on the movie.
you clear your throat, shaking your head hoping for some type of clarity. the more wine you had the more clouded your head became. wanda saw you try to move, assuming you’re going to put the drink down she places her hand on your lap, watching you squirm and stare at it.
“is there something wrong with the wine honey? It’s a shame you don’t like it, it’s one of my favourites.”
you quickly dismissed her words, saying it’s delicious and that you were just a lightweight. you take a big sip and hold the glass closely to your chest, shrinking further back into the couch. she smiles at your unconscious need to please her. you are so easy to manipulate, feeling guilty over every little thing.
you finish the glass, cheeks flushed and lips pink. your head was pounding and the ache between your legs was blinding. you figured it was because it was a warm night and that you were sitting next to Wanda, your stupidly attractive step mother.
you wanted to throw your head back in frustration. you didn’t want to get up and go to the bathroom, it would be the smarter option but purely because if you tried to do something under your blanket, you wouldn’t mind getting caught ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა
feeling bold, you do exactly what your thoughts tell you to, unaware that Wanda is discreetly watching your every move. your hand slides into your shorts, gasping when you feel how wet you really are.
“Are you okay, dear?” She shifts closer, arm swung over the couch and curving behind you to play with your hair, purposely pressing her breasts up against your arm. You bite your lip, rubbing yourself to the sound of her silky voice.
“I-I’m okay, I- ah..” You moan, your hips bucking into your own hand. You’re so far gone, you weren’t even aware of the sound you had just made. Or the wet sounds coming from your pussy. She looked at you pitifully, you were being so painfully oblivious she started to feel bad for feeding you all those pills.
She doesn’t say another word, gripping the blanket and pulling it off so quickly it makes you clamp your legs together in surprise. You yelp, ready to pull your hand out of your shorts before she stops you.
“Keep going.” She orders, making you look at her dumbly.
“what?” you ask breathlessly. your chest rises and falls quickly, legs twitching in anticipation. she holds your face in her hand, her red lips whispering against yours.
“I want you to touch yourself in front of me.”
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rynwritesreid · 13 hours
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Idea for fic: enemies to lovers Dom older Spencer and f reader with age gap can’t stand eachother at work and then away on a case they get paired up to be in a room and there’s one bed anyways reader goes and showers and comes out wearing nothing but her bra and panties since she left her tank top the bed and Spencer is shocked and teases her all night and thennnnn rest is history😏
A/N: has this been sat in my inbox for over 3 months? Yes. I hope this makes up for the wait, sorry it tool awhile :( but I did see it when it was first asked, but I’ve been dealing with a lot in the past few months, and I’ve been dealing with some writers block. But I hope you guys enjoy it :)
Summary: Basically what ANON asked for. Spencer and reader hate each other, but Emily has a plan that could resolve all the issues or make them worse.
Content: Fem!reader. Dom!Reid/Sub!reader. Use of Y/N. Spanking. Degradation kink. Praise Kink. Power imbalance kink (kind off). Use of sir, slut, good girl and sweetheart. PinV/creampie. No mentions of contraception. No mentions of aftercare.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
You and Spencer hated each other. Maybe it’s because Spencer felt genuine competition from you, or maybe it was because you seemed to effortlessly outshine him in everything you did. And well you hated him, because every time Spencer walked into a room, he carried with him an air of superiority that grated against your nerves. You could see the jealousy in his eyes whenever someone praised your work or complimented your achievements.
Everyone had grown tired of the way you both acted around here. Emily would often call you both into her office to yell, “You are two of the best agents. Two brilliant minds. And yet no one can stand to be in the same room as you two.” 
You both sat in Emily's office, the tension thick between you. Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you as Emily’s words hung heavily in the air. You couldn't deny the truth in Emily's words - your rivalry with Spencer had reached a breaking point, affecting not only your own work but the entire team dynamic.
Emily heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair before continuing, "This behaviour ends now. I'm not going to tolerate this any longer. I need you two to figure out a way to work together, or I will have no choice but to reassign one of you."
*
“Oh, my god. Reid, do you ever shut up?” you muttered under your breath, unable to hide your irritation at Spencer's endless rambling. 
Spencer shot you a glare, his frustration evident in the way his jaw tensed. "At least I have something worthwhile to say, unlike you," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Oh, please. Your so-called facts and statistics don't mean anything in the field. It's called real-life experience, something you clearly lack."
“Lacking real-life experience? Really?” Spencer paused, his voice fuelled with anger “I am older than you, and I have experienced things you wouldn’t even believe.”
Spencer's outburst surprised you, the raw emotion in his voice catching you off guard.
“Whatever you say, Dr Reid. From now on I’ll just worship the ground you walk on, shall I?” you retorted, trying to mask your unease with a casual tone. Inside, you felt a twinge of admiration for his ability to get under your skin so easily.
Emily glared at you both from across the room, she knew she had to put an end to this, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to do that.
Spencer's nostrils flared with indignation at your remark, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and frustration. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, Emily's stern voice cut through the tension like a knife.
"That's enough!" Emily's command was sharp, her gaze piercing. "I've had it with this childish bickering between you two. This behaviour is unprofessional and completely unacceptable."
You both fell silent under Emily's unwavering stare, guilt creeping into your conscience as her words echoed in the room. The weight of her disappointment hung heavy in the air, suffocating the animosity between you and Spencer.
"I don't care who started it or whose ego is hurt more," Emily continued, her tone firm. "What I care about is that you two find a way to work together effectively. The team's safety and success depend on it."
*
Emily was sick and tired of how the both of you acted, and she knew she needed to act fast. She didn’t want to lose either of you, but she also couldn’t let things carry on. So, she devised a plan, one that could go horribly wrong or one that could go perfectly. 
*
“Hey, everybody.” Emily’s voice echoed through the jet, “the hotel we are staying at doesn’t have enough rooms for us all to have our own.” She paused for a brief second, she didn’t want anyone to catch on to her, “so, Rossi and I will have our own room. Tara and JJ, you’ll share, Luke and Matt you’ll share and erm… Y/N and Reid you guys will also be sharing.”
You exchanged a wary glance with Spencer as Emily assigned you to share a room. “Emily, I’m sorry. But what is this? You expect me to share a room with Reid? Also assigning us rooms, what are we like thirteen or something?” you scoffed, the incredulity evident in your voice. Spencer's expression mirrored your own disbelief, his eyes widening in surprise at Emily's unexpected announcement.
Emily raised an eyebrow at your protest, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, I expect you two to share a room. It's high time you both learn to work together and put your differences aside. Consider this a team-building exercise," she stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.
You opened your mouth to protest further, but Emily's steely glare silenced any objections before they could form.
*
“Seriously, one bed. Is she serious. I hate her, just as much as I hate you.” you spat out, glaring at Spencer as you both entered the hotel room assigned to you. The tension between you was palpable, suffocating the space as you stood on opposite sides of the room. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of Spencer's exasperated sigh.
"Believe me, the feeling is mutual," Spencer shot back, his tone laced with irritation as he surveyed the small room. The single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room seemed to mock your predicament, a constant reminder of the forced proximity between you.
“Because, unlike you, I’m nice. You can have the bed, as long as I can shower first.” You retorted, determined not to back down in this battle of wills. Spencer's jaw clenched at your words, a muscle ticking in his temple as he fought to keep his composure.
"Fine. Just make it quick," Spencer replied through gritted teeth, his pride wounded by the concession. 
Before you headed towards the shower, you started to unpack, you hated keeping everything in your bag when you were in the hotel room. Once, you had finished you grabbed your essentials and headed towards the bathroom without so much as muttering a word to Spencer.
Spencer watched as you disappeared into the bathroom, the click of the door echoing in the tense silence of the room. Alone now, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. The mere thought of sharing a room with you made his skin crawl, but he knew Emily's intentions were well-meaning, if not a little misguided.
The rush of the warm water against your skin did little to soothe the simmering frustration that lingered within you. As the steam filled the bathroom, you tried to shake off the tension that had built up between you and Spencer. But every time you closed your eyes, his infuriating presence seemed to seep through the cracks of your composure.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” As you looked at the pile of clothes you had in the bathroom, you realised you hadn’t brought in your PJs, and all you had was a pair of panties and a bra. You were too embarrassed to ask Spencer to bring you the rest of your clothes. 
You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options, but you weren’t going to be admitting defeat anytime soon, and maybe some part of you wanted to flaunt to Spencer something he could never have.
You dried yourself off and stepped out of the bathroom in just your underwear. Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief as you emerged from the bathroom clad only in your underwear, the audacity of your actions catching him off guard. His cheeks flushed with a deep crimson hue, his gaze darting away as if to shield himself from the unexpected sight before him.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Spencer’s voice wavered slightly, a mix of shock and embarrassment colouring his tone. He struggled to maintain eye contact, opting instead to focus on a random spot on the wall.
You couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort, a sense of satisfaction blooming within you at having turned the tables on Spencer for once. The power shift in the room was palpable, the tension crackling between you in a different way now.
“Just grabbing my clothes,” you stated nonchalantly, making no move to cover up as you retrieved your pyjamas. “Do you like what you see, Spencer?”
Spencer's cheeks burned hotter at your teasing words, his jaw clenching in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. He struggled to find the right response, his mind racing to come up with a comeback that would regain the upper hand in this unexpected exchange.
"Very funny," Spencer finally managed to choke out, his tone strained as he averted his gaze, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you had made him. 
“You know the way you’re acting right now, Y/N, isn’t of someone who hates me.” Spencer teased through gritted teeth, his attempt at levity falling flat in the charged atmosphere of the room. Your smirk faltered for a split second at his remark, a flicker of something unidentifiable crossing your features before you regained your composure, your mask slipping back into place.
"Let's get one thing straight, Spencer," you retorted, your tone firm as you met his gaze head-on. "Just because I'm not actively trying to strangle you right now doesn't mean I don't still think you're insufferable." The underlying tension between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting to reignite at the slightest provocation.
Spencer raised an eyebrow at your response, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. “Or you’re not actively strangling me, because you’d rather I’d be doing that to you.” Spencer paused, the words hanging in the charged air between you. His attempt at humour fell flat, the gravity of the situation pulling at the corners of his smile.
“What? No. What?” It was your turn to be embarrassed now as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at Spencer's unexpected remark.
“Oh, so I’m right. You do like the idea of me choking you.” Spencer paused, his eyes widening in realization at the slip of his words. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension between you both reaching a new peak as his inadvertent confession hung in the air, heavy and loaded with unspoken implications.
You swallowed hard, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. Spencer's gaze bore into yours, searching for a reaction, for any sign of the impact his words had made. And in that charged moment, something shifted between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer even as you both stood at opposite ends of the room.
“Spencer, I…” your voice wavered, uncertainty creeping into your tone as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The weight of his words hung heavy between you, begging for acknowledgement, for resolution. 
“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. Brats like you always act out when they are attracted to someone.” Spencer paused, his gaze softening as he took a step closer to you. The air between you crackled with a newfound vulnerability, baring emotions that had long been buried beneath layers of animosity and pride.
“Spencer, you have a very active imagination. I have, erm, I have never thought of you like that.” You stumbled over your words, the admission weighing heavily on your conscience. Spencer's expression softened at your response, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he processed your words.
“I do not believe that for one second, sweetheart.” Spencer 's voice was barely above a whisper, his words laced with a raw honesty that left no room for doubt. The tension in the room had shifted once again, morphing into a charged undercurrent that pulsed between you, drawing you closer in a dance as old as time.
In one swift motion, Spencer seemed to have place you on top of his lap, your ass up in the air, and the palm of his hand striking against your backside.
Your breath hitched at the unexpected contact, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as Spencer's touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. The sting of his hand against your skin reverberated through your body, igniting a primal fire that had long been smouldering beneath the surface. 
“Now, you’re going to be a good girl, and say thank you after every time I spank you.” Spencer paused, his voice low and commanding as he laid down the rules of their newfound dynamic. Your head spun with a mixture of confusion and a strange exhilaration at the turn of events, the rush of adrenaline heightening your senses.
“Yes, sir.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you complied with Spencer's demand, the unfamiliar title sending a thrill down your spine. Each strike of his hand against your skin sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a heady mix of pain and desire intertwining in a dangerous dance.
“Are you sorry for been a brat? For constantly picking fights with me over nothing? For making Emily do this, just so I can use you like the slut you are.” Spencer paused; his voice laced with a deliberate edge as he pushed the boundaries of your newfound dynamic. Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a surge of conflicting emotions crashing over you. The raw honesty in Spencer's tone stripped away the layers of pretence between you, exposing the raw desire that simmered beneath the surface.
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of submission and defiance.
Spencer’s hand moved over your panties, so he could feel the ever-growing wet patch. “Do you like that? You like calling me sir, and me calling you a slut. You know for the type of brat you are out in the office or in the field, you break a lot easier than expected.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Spencer's words sent a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through you. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, the boundaries between desire and shame blurring as his touch ignited a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing second.
“Yes, sir.” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensations that pulsed through your body. The weight of his hand against your skin, the pressure of his touch against your most intimate places, all served to push you to the brink of a precipice you had never dared to explore before.
“Good girl, now stand up and take off your bra and panties.” Spencer demanded, his voice firm and authoritative. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
With trembling hands, you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor. Then, you stepped out of your panties, your legs feeling unsteady as you stood there before him, naked and exposed. The air between you was thick with desire, and you could feel Spencer's gaze raking over your body, devouring every inch of you.
"Now, bend over the table," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You did as he said, your hands gripping the edge of the table as you lowered your body, presenting yourself to him. The cool surface of the table against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat that was building inside you. You could feel the moisture between your legs as it dripped down your thighs, a testament to the arousal that was consuming you.
Spencer stepped closer to you, his cock hard and pulsating with need. He ran his fingers through your hair, tangling them in the strands as he pulled your head back, his gaze never wavering from your exposed ass.
"You're such a naughty little slut, aren't you?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "You know you want this, don't you? You've been craving my cock since the first day we met."
You could only nod in response, your body trembling with anticipation as his erection pressed against your wet sex.
"Good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've been waiting for this moment ever since I saw you, too."
With one swift movement, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust inside you in one smooth motion. Your eyes widened at the sudden invasion, the pleasure and pain intermingling in a way that was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.
You gasped, arching your back as his cock filled you completely. Spencer's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to move within you. His thrusts were rhythmic and powerful, filling you to the brim with each movement.
Your moans filled the room as Spencer's cock slid in and out of you, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as he fucked you hard and rough. Your mind was a blur of mixed emotions, guilt mingling with desire as you surrendered to the animalistic lust that was consuming you.
You could feel his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. Your legs were trembling with each movement, your body submitting to his every command.
"You feel so good, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "So tight and wet. Just the way I always imagined you would be."
His words sent a rush of pleasure through you, making you clench around his cock. Spencer thrust deeper, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm that had you gasping for breath.
"Tell me you want me, baby," he growled, his voice harsh with need. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."
You couldn't form words, your mind lost in the haze of pleasure and desire. All you could do was cry out and arch your back, begging for more.
"Please, please, please," you moaned, your voice ragged with need. "More, oh please, more."
Spencer's smile was wicked, his eyes dark and full of lust. "Tell me you want me, baby," he demanded, holding your hips tight as he thrust into you.
"I want you, oh, I want you so fucking much!" you cried out, your body writhing beneath him. Your nails dug into the edge of the table, your legs trembling as you pushed back against him, taking him deeper inside you.
His thrusts became harder, faster, each one a razor's edge of pleasure and pain. You could feel his fingers digging into your hips, his breath hot against your skin as he possessed you completely.
"Tell me, slut," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me you're mine, and that you'll do anything I say."
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
"I'm yours, sir," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the power, he held over you. "I'll do anything you say."
Spencer's eyes widened at your submission, a sense of triumph and desire flooding his entire being. He thrusted deeper into you, his cock aching to be buried inside you even further.
Your moans grew louder, your body shaking with every thrust as he took control of you. The power he wielded over you sent ripples of ecstasy through your entire being, your mind hazy with pleasure.
"That's it, baby, let me hear you," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me how much you love taking my cock, how much you love feeling me inside you."
You couldn't form words, your breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps. Your fingernails left marks on the edge of the table, your body writhing under his assault.
"Mmm, that's it, tell me baby," he urged, his hips moving in a relay and powerful stroke. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you, how much you need it."
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with each thrust. Your moans filled the room, and your entire body was on fire with pleasure and desire.
"Say it, baby," he demanded, his voice growing rough with need. "Say you love my cock inside you."
"I-I love your cock inside me," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you, please don't stop."
Spencer's eyes darkened at your plea, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you harder. Your moans filled the room, your body arching and begging for more. You could feel the tension building, the wave of pleasure and desire crashing over you.
"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Come for me, let go of all that pleasure and surrender to me completely."
Your body shuddered, your moans growing louder as the orgasm overwhelmed you. Your pussy clenched around his cock, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure through Spencer's entire being.
He continued to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of you in a relentless rhythm. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with each movement. 
You could tell Spencer wasn’t far off from his own release, the muscles in his abdomen tightening with every thrust.
The feeling of him inside you was indescribable, the intensity of your orgasm mixing with the pleasure of him taking you so roughly. You could feel him hardening even more, his cock pulsating with need as he fucked you deeper and faster.
"I'm gonna cum, baby," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum."
Your mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, pleasure, and lust mingling with the desire to please him. You wanted him to take you, to possess you completely.
"Yes, sir, fill me up," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside me."
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svuguru · 18 hours
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Tags: stepcest!! Guysss I just needed to get smth out so this is a really old draft 😭
"I need you to behave while Satoru and Nanami are here, okay? They should arrive in, maybe, thirty minutes," Suguru says as he turns off the television. You roll your eyes, seated comfortably on the sofa with annoyance painted on your face.
"Whatever," you huff and look away, feigning ignorance. Suguru tilts his head, as if amused or shocked—maybe both.
"Repeat that for me?" Suguru takes a few steps closer, leaning over the headrest of the sofa in which you sit.
"I said, whatever!"
What a grave mistake.
"Sugu—!" You whine, pulling at the armrest of the sofa as Suguru pounds into you from behind, his jeans lowered down to his ankles and his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.
"What? What's wrong, hm?" Suguru pants and sticks sinks his teeth into his bottom lip absentmindedly, eyes intently watching the way you suck him in. You throw your head forward, deep breaths and loud moans leaving your throat.
Suguru has bunched up your skirt to your waist, your panties wrapped around your ankles. You're quiet, no answer whatsoever from you. So, Suguru raises his hand up just before landing it on your ass, the sound sharp and surprising.
"What's wrong, hmm?" He repeats, chest heaving with heavy breaths. You gasp, your back arching and pussy clenching around his fat cock from enjoyment. "Aww, you liked that?" Suguru grins menacingly, "didn't know my precious stepsister was so fucking nasty—" and comes another unexpected slap to your poor ass, red painting your flesh.
"Sugu, can't—!" You moan, pushing your ass back despite the sharp stinging in it, hoping to get some more stimulation from Suguru.
"You say you can't, but this pussy is sucking me in so well and so fucking tight," Suguru grunts and thrusts his hips forward, "so dirty for big stepbro, huh?" He laughs, albeit breathy, and sends another smack to your ass, only this time it's gentler. "You're such a brat," he scoffs and pulls your hips back to meet his, the sound of his balls against your skin creating a soft echo.
"No, 'm not a brat!" You whimper and look back over your shoulder at him, a pout drawn on your lips.
"Yeah? Then what are you?" The tip of Suguru's dick hits places in you you didn't even know existed, and just as you're about to come up with some snark remark, Suguru bends over your body and stretches his legs out just a bit, pulling his cock out just until only the tip is in and shoving it back into your warm, tight cunt.
"Ah, ah, Sugu!" Your acrylic nails dig into the soft sofa, your moans high pitched and whiny. Suguru leans down to plant wet kisses on your shoulder, his eyes half-lidded as he looks at your flushed face and knitted eyebrows.
Another strong thrust into your pussy has your breath hitching and pussy drooling, coating his dick. Throwing your head back, your tits bounce from the impact.
"Want Satoru and Nanami to walk in and see what a dirty girl you are, huh?" Suguru murmurs and the thought has you pulsing around his cock, biting your lower lip. "Aww, such a dirty little baby..." He laughs. "Come on, precious stepsister, you're doing so good f'me..." Suguru whispers into your ear, his voice deep and sensual. You turn your head away, huffing.
"Sugu, y'so mean!" But despite your apparent fury, your cunt squeezes his cock, tight. Your ass bounces with every sharp fuck of Suguru's hips, boobs squished against the armrest of the sofa.
"Apologize, baby," Suguru says but it has this certain strictness to it, followed by another slap to your ass.
"Uh-uh!" You whine, shaking your head as one of Suguru's hands reach for your tit, squeezing and squishing it, his thumb rolling around your stiff nipple.
Another loud smack.
"Apologize." Suguru says, again, this time with a more firm tone. His cock finally hits that sweet spot inside of you, teasing it repeatedly.
And another loud smack.
"m sorry, Sugu, 'm so sorry!" You whimper, then gasp when Suguru's index and thumb roll around and pull at your nipple.
"That's a good girl," he hums proudly, "'m gonna cum in your pussy, now, 'kay?"
"Mkay, Sugu, please do!" And with that, Suguru releases his heavy load inside of your tight pussy, throwing his head back as he lets out a long, drawn out groan. His hips get lazy, his pace going slow.
Even with heavy eyelids, Suguru opens them to look down at your pussy taking his cum in, the liquid slowly oozing out and dripping down your inner thigh.
Pulling out, he takes your panties and slides them back up your legs, his semen making your panties damp and wet. Suguru pulls away to pull his boxers and jeans back up to his hips, redoing his belt.
"Learned your lesson, yeah?" Suguru says before pressing a kiss to the back of your head. You nod tiredly, whining faintly, sweaty forehead rested against your forearm.
Suguru wipes his forehead, fixing your skirt and looking at what he's done.
As if on cue, a knock sounds throughout the house.
"Be a good girl and behave now, okay?"
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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How do you think Argenti, Gepard, Dan Heng, Blade, and Dr. Ratio would react to finding their lover crying about how beautiful they are?
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Argenti would be honoured that you found him of beauty equal to that of your own.
Truly he was because he was the type to believe that it took true beauty to recognise beauty in all its other forms.
He would hold your face in his hands and try to calm you down with some sweet nothings and kisses as his thumbs wipe away your tears.
‘My beloved rose,’ he’d begin, ‘to be viewed as beautiful by your eyes is an incomparable experience and I am blessed that you think so highly of me because to me, you might as well have been the originator of beauty itself as you make even the most mundane chore beautiful.’ He pushes his forehead against yours, brushing his nose against yours. ‘I am so honoured to be viewed as such in your eyes. I shall Cherish this eternally.’ He finishes as he then proceeds to kiss under your eyes, your eyelids and finally down your tear streaked cheeks gingerly as though you were going to break.
Argenti just spends the rest of the day proving just how beautiful you are in his eyes as repayment afterwards.
You’d probably had to hold onto him and tell him that he doesn’t have to repay you for speaking your truth, but Argenti was adamant in repaying you for doing so and if that meant spending eternity wait in on you hand and foot then Argenti would gladly do so.
Gepard originally thinks that something was wrong when he caught you tearing up and was about to use whatever he needed to resolve the issue, only for you to tell him how beautiful you thought he was.
Now he’s sporting a cherry red face and was at a loss for words.
He was use to people singing his achievements despite thinking that he could do so much more but getting a compliment in general that wasn’t tied to anything he’s done was enough to have the second oldest Landau a little speechless.
‘Really?’ He would ask sheepishly while rubbing the back of his head. ‘I mean I wouldn’t think so but that doesn’t mean I’m within my right to tell you whatever you think of me is right or wrong, it’s just something I’ve got to get used to to in due time.’ He adds as he then grasps your hands in his and squeeze them.
‘But I thank you for thinking so highly of me that isn’t in regard to the things I’ve accomplished and more so on me just being…well me, even if I do fail at keeping our plants alive…but still I’m glad that you’ve stayed by my side for as long as you have. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Gepard finishes his statement off by kissing your forehead, down the slope of your nose and finally a sweet and gentle peck to the lips.
Dan Heng
He was quick to come to your aid upon seeing you crying, but the moment you tell him that the reason why was because you thought he was beautiful.
He didn’t hole much of an option about himself but he certainly didn’t think he was beautiful, average maybe, but not once did he ever look himself in the mirror and saw beauty staring back at him. He just saw Dan Heng of the Astral Express, nothing more, nothing less.
So for you to see beauty in him wasn’t something he was prepared for as his eyes widened a tad and his breath caught in his throat before looking away to scratch the tip of his nose out of habit.
‘You truly have a unique way with words don’t you?’ He’d say to himself as he smiles softly to himself, glad that nothing horrible had happened when his back was turned, you genuinely had him going for a bit there and he was more then glad to be wrong on this occasion.
He’ll hold your compliment close to his chest in hopes of absorbing it and committing it to memory, guarding it as though it were a priceless treasure he could not be separated from. He often didn’t think himself as someone special, but the way you spoke about how beautiful he was while crying made him want to appreciate everything you have ever said about him in the past in a remotely positive light. He didn’t know he needed it until you came along to shower him in love for just existing.
Blade is more of an ‘actions speak louder then words’ type of guy.
So he wouldn’t exactly be moved to bits when you tell him how beautiful he is because he knew what his body looked like, he also knew that you knew what his body looked like, so he often wondered where or not you were seeing the same thing as he was.
So unless you were holding his arms, admiring his scars and or tracing/kissing them with adoration like you were doing now, then he wasn’t going to be less to easily believing in words alone.
‘I’m far from it.’ He’d reply but felt the walls he’s built inside weaken the moment you pressed a soft kiss to one of the more larger scars across his inner forearm. A simple act made from genuine affection that shouldn’t have made as much of an effect on Blade it did.
The feeling of vulnerability wasn’t one he welcomed that often but when he does it was more or less only within your presence. In those moments you could tell him anything and he would be lead by the smallest spark to believe in it, including telling him he’s beautiful as you combed your fingers through his hair with tears still blurring your vision.
He’d brush your tears away with calloused finger pads and wordlessly bring you in close to his body, leaching off of your warmth and allowed you to borrow your head into the crook of his neck, and just keep you there as his own special way of saying thank you for seeing beauty within a monster.
Ratio
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or however that saying goes.
Veritas didn’t pride himself on his how conventionally attractive he was but more so on his intellect and extensive wealth of knowledge.
So when he caught you crying over how apparently beautiful he was, Veritas would want to naturally disagree with this statement but due to the fact that you were in a highly emotional state, he just bites his tongue and calmly walks over to you, kneels next to you and pulls out a handkerchief and start gingerly wiping away your tears.
‘I appreciate the heartfelt compliment but I do not think that it is worth your tears.’ He would then say afterwards as he coddles you into his side, making sure you could feel his appreciation for your ability to care for such things in life, seeing as how he was too transfixed on the much bigger, more complex paradoxes of life. ‘And don’t rub your eyes so hard when wiping away your tears, you’re only hurting yourself when you do that.’ He adds fussily but it never fails to make you smile and laugh at how much he cared about you in his own way.
He doesn’t stop mid work to smell the flowers but you did and he knew how even the smallest, minuet things could mean so much to someone, even if he didn’t understand the reason as to why, but he can learn to accept that what you found worth praising and what he found worth praising were two completely separate things and that was okay.
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Gala Night
PolyVees x GN!Reader
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TW:Valentino. I do not condone his actions at all.
A/N: CHAUFFEUR READER IS MAKING A REAPPEARANCE!!!!
You quickly moved out of the way as a secretary rushed past you holding the phone to your ear as you tried to listen to what Valentino was saying, “Carino~ You wouldn’t mind going to see Velvette before you grab the limo? She has something waiting for you.” He purred through the phone as you tried to rush to the now closing elevator. “Son of a- those bastards.” You hissed out looking around, guess you’ll be running up twenty flights of stairs then wait 5 minutes for the next elevator, “Yes, go see Velvette and then go pick up the limo.” You repeated back to the Overlord who happily hummed before he had to abruptly hang up as he yelled at someone.
You opened the door towards the stairs and growled, Velvette was gonna be pissed at you for being so late but so be it. You started your ascent up the staircase, putting your phone back in your pocket and ignoring how it buzzed with texts from multiple people. Of course, Vox had called you in on the day of one of hell’s special occasions. The Overlords Gala. Where Overlords throughout the whole 7 rings of Hell get together at Lucifer’s palace. You had the day off originally but Valentino got a little mad and killed off the other chauffeur that drove them around that morning so everything was an hour behind, you were still in your pajamas and had barely grabbed your wallet and phone for the day.
It took a few more moments until you were on the twentieth floor, busting through the door and quickly running down the hall towards Velvette’s Fashion Department ignoring the looks of models and random demons in the hallways. As you walked in still out of breath and practically wheezing for breath you could hear Velvette yelling at some poor model before she moved them away. Janette whispering something to her before she whipped her head towards you, “Where the fuck have you been?” She asked storming over as you stood tall, “Running up twenty flights of stairs,” you replied before she rolled her eyes and pulled you towards the podium. Velvette’s eyes stuck to your outfit like glue before her glare darkened and her frown deepened. “What the fuck are you wearing?” She growled out as you looked down at the ‘Voxtech’ shirt and pajama pants you took from the gift basket (one of many) that Vox sent over to your apartment.
“..my pajamas.” You slowly replied before she scoffed and flicked her wrist as your pajamas disappeared and you were fitted in your normal outfit but the subtle difference was it had the V’s logo embroidered on the chest pocket as if they were planning to show you off and you weren’t just gonna drop them off and then go busy yourself with whatever you could find. Velvette walked over and fixed the jacket from looking lopsided, “Don’t run down those fucking stairs. You’ll tear something or fall and we don’t have time to fix another fucking mess.” She said before reaching up to brush your hair back, “Yes ma’am, no running down the stairs.” You repeated watching as a smile replaced the sneer on her lips. She patted your arms and waved you off to go do whatever else you needed to do. 
It didn’t take you long to get down the flight of stairs and down to the parking lot where Vox kept the limo and other cars you were asked to drive. Quickly showing your ID to the scanner on the door, Vox was really careful about everything. Even one small misprint on your ID would send him an alert that someone was breaking in, you walked into the large garage and looked around seeing the limo sitting near the back of the garage. You walked towards it to make sure everything was okay.
It wasn’t until an hour later as you were making sure the inside of the Limo was cleaned and restocked for the three of them that Vox had called you to tell you that they were about to leave. You got situated and drove the limo to the front of the tower ignoring how demons gathered around to see the Vee’s before they left for the Gala. But bodyguards had blocked the crowds as you rushed to the other side and opened the doors for the three Overlords, who looked like they stole a piece of Heaven with their matching outfits. You were not drooling over your bosses, focus. This is a big night and you’d rather not have a bullet in your head before the night is over. Keep your mind from drifting.
The drive was silent and long, only a few times did Valentino bother you which was weird but you didn’t pay attention to it much. As you pulled to a stop at a redlight, you softly tapped on the steering wheel as your eyes drifted around. You were liable to fall asleep if the silence continued like this, it wouldn’t hurt to play some music while they weren’t paying attention to you, maybe it’d get them to relax a bit too..even if they didn’t hear it due to the partition window. You turned the radio on, turning it down so it wouldn’t be too loud for them to hear as you started to drive down the road once more.
It was another few minutes before you drove past the giant golden gates, you felt weird about being around such a place. Especially since this had to be the first Gala in years after The King’s absence, you felt..unworthy of being in such a place. As you pulled to a stop in front of the palace doors, you parked the car and moved to open the door for all three of them. Valentino was first to exit, then followed by Velvette and finally Vox exited the Limo, his arm slinging around your shoulders. “Are you ready for a fun night?” He asked pulling you closer to his form as cameras flashed all around you. You blinked once..twice before it hit you..Vox was talking to you. “W-What?” You asked looking up at his screen seeing his smile grow wide at the question as he closed the limo door with his foot, his arm moving comfortably around your waist.
If you were anyone else there would be a sure chance he would’ve killed you right there for questioning him. But you weren’t anyone else, you were the Vee’s chauffeur. You were under their protection and you weren’t bound by any soul contract, you had free reign to do whatever you wanted. “The party~ You’re our guest~” Valentino cut in gently grabbing your chin and making you look towards him, oh boy the rumors will be running on for days now. You just whispered a soft ‘oh’ before looking away at Velvette who winked at you. 
There goes your plans to go to that diner downtown and eat dinner for cheap.
Taglist: @aboyscriminalrecord cause I know you thrive on the Vees.
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lovesphases · 2 days
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JJ taking care of hypersensitive!reader by cradling her nd fingering her:(
wrote this half asleep, not proofread. MDNI 18+. sorry this took so long, hope you like it my love.
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you were sitting at your vanity getting ready for your date with jj. you were blasting your favorite playlist, humming along to the music while applying your makeup. jj had finished getting ready a while ago and was now just sitting on your bed waiting for you.
you lean closer to the mirror, needing all your focus to go into your eyeliner. you turn to your boyfriend after finishing one eye.
“hey baby does my eyeliner look okay?”
“yes it looks perfect baby.” you hum in acknowledgment and then back to do the other eye. your good mood instantly turns sour when your hand slips and you mess up your eyeliner.
“ughhh!” you throw your eyeliner down and cover your face with your hands.
your boyfriend walks over to where you’re sitting. “baby what’s wrong? what happened.” the last bit of restraint you had in you snaps when you look up at him, his face full of worry. tears start streaming past your mascara clad eyelashes.
“what- hey why are you crying? talk to me?” jj squats down, holding your hands in his.
“i messed up my eyeliner.” you let out a sniffle, the tears still pouring down your face.
“it’s okay baby come here. we don’t have to go anywhere we can just stay here. yeah?” he lifts you into his arms carrying you into the bed. he places you into his lap, wiping your tears away. “let me help you feel better mama.” you nod your head, embarrassment slowly starting to gnaw at your insides.
he kisses your head, sliding one hand across your stomach under your shirt, and laying his other hand across your chest. your breath comes out as a small gasp when he begins rubbing his pinky up and down your stomach, slowly coming in contact with the waistband of your shorts.
“shhhh, just relaxxxx mama. i got you.” he leans his head down, placing small kisses on your neck, your eyes slowly closing.
he slips his fingers past the band of your shorts, not moving them any further. you let out a small impatient whine as your hips slightly buck up, needing friction. jj lets out a chuckle underneath his breath, sensing your desperation he finally makes contact with your pulsing cunt.
a sigh of relief expels from your lips when he finally drags his fingers through your sticky folds. “always so wet for me.”
“mhm” is the only response you can give, nuzzling your head underneath jj’s chin.
you let out quiet whimpers as he drags small circles across your clit. “wanna take these shorts off for me?” you nod, your hands shooting to your shorts, eagerly sliding them off.
he hooks his arm under your knees, bringing them to your chest. before you can question what he’s doing, his fingers are back on your glistening pussy. he slides a finger inside you, slowly pumping in and out. you let out a moan, eyes already filling with tears. he adds another finger, moving faster. your hips jerk as you let out a loud cry.
“does that feel good pretty girl?”
“mhm. really good.” his fingers curl inside you, the burning sensation in your tummy slowly intensifying. the only noises filling the room right now is your whimpers and the squelching of your pussy.
your nails dig into his thigh when his palm perfectly hits your clit with each thrust. “i love you so much. you’re so beautiful.” jj murmurs into your hair, causing you to clench around his fingers. “loveyoutoo” your breath hitches in your throat, your release getting closer and closer.
“you gonna cum for me baby?”
“yes!” you let out a loud squeal as his pace increases. “i’m gonna-” your release gushes out of you before you can even finish warning him.
“thereeeee you go. that’s it.” he helps you ride out your high, before slowly removing his fingers from your now sensitive cunt. you turn around, giving jj a long kiss, doing your best at pouring as much love into it as you possibly can.
you place a series of kisses on his lips before laying your head on his chest. “thank you jj.”
“you’re welcome pretty girl. now let’s go take off that makeup while i order us food. then we can watch a movie. how does that sound?” he runs his hand through your hair.
“okay” you hum out, getting up and making your way to the bathroom. jj’s heart swells with love, grateful he gets to call you his.
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