#<- that’s what i’m calling it for now
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A Royal Surprise
Max Verstappen x Princess of Wales!Reader
Summary: in which Max 1) forgot to tell his team that he has a girlfriend and 2) forgot to tell his team that the girlfriend in question is the future Queen of England … oops?
One of Red Bull Racing’s PR officers, Leslie, sits in the back of the conference room, her pen poised over her notepad as she listens to the team debrief. It’s a typical Thursday morning, with engineers and drivers discussing the upcoming race weekend. Leslie’s eyes flit between Max Verstappen and his teammate as they offer their insights on car performance and track conditions.
“The balance felt off in turn three during the sim,” Max says, leaning back in his chair. “We might need to adjust the downforce.”
Leslie jots this down, already planning how to phrase it for the press conference later that afternoon. Just another normal day at Red Bull Racing, she thinks.
But then, Max casually adds, “Oh, and by the way, you might see some extra security around this weekend. My girlfriend’s coming to watch the race.”
Leslie’s pen stills. There’s something in Max’s tone that makes her look up sharply.
“Girlfriend?” Christian Horner raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone seriously.”
Max shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, it’s been a few months now. We’ve been keeping it quiet.”
Leslie leans forward, her PR senses tingling. “Anyone we know?” She asks, trying to keep her voice casual.
Max’s grin widens. “You could say that. It’s Y/N.”
The room falls silent. Leslie blinks, sure she must have misheard. “I’m sorry, did you say Y/N? As in ...”
“The Princess of Wales, yeah,” Max confirms, as if he’s just mentioned dating a local girl from down the street.
Leslie’s notepad slips from her fingers, clattering to the floor. The sound seems to break the spell of silence that’s fallen over the room.
“Max,” Christian says slowly, “are you telling us that you’re dating the future Queen of England?”
Max nods, still looking far too relaxed for someone who’s just dropped a bombshell of international proportions. “That’s right.”
Leslie’s mind is spinning. Images of tabloid headlines and diplomatic incidents flash before her eyes. She stands up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I need to make some calls,” she says weakly.
But before she can escape, Christian holds up a hand. “Wait, Leslie. We need to handle this carefully. Max, how long has this been going on?”
“About six months,” Max replies. “We met at a charity event in London. Hit it off right away.”
Leslie sinks back into her chair, her head in her hands. “Six months,” she mutters. “You’ve been dating the Princess of Wales for six months, and we’re just finding out now?”
Max has the grace to look a bit sheepish. “We wanted to keep it private for as long as possible. You know how it is with the media.”
Oh, Leslie knows. She knows all too well. “Max,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady, “do you realize what this means? The security implications alone ...”
“It’s all been taken care of,” Max assures her. “The palace has been very discreet.”
Leslie laughs, a slightly hysterical edge to it. “The palace. Of course. Because now we’re dealing with actual palaces.”
Christian clears his throat. “Right. Well, this certainly changes things. Leslie, I think we’re going to need to reschedule the rest of this meeting. Can you get started on a press strategy?”
Leslie nods numbly, her mind already racing with potential scenarios and damage control plans.
As the room begins to clear, Max approaches her. “Leslie? Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”
Leslie takes a deep breath. “Max, I appreciate you telling us. But next time you decide to date royalty, maybe give us a heads up a bit sooner?”
Max chuckles. “Sorry about that. If it helps, you’re handling it better than your counterpart at the palace did when you found out.”
“Oh God,” Leslie groans. “I’m going to have to coordinate with the royal PR team, aren’t I?”
“They’re actually pretty cool,” Max says. “A bit stuffy at first, but they loosen up after a while.”
Leslie shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this is my life now. Okay, Max, I need you to tell me everything. How did you meet? How have you kept this secret? What are the security arrangements?”
For the next hour, Leslie grills Max on every detail of his relationship with you. She learns about secret rendezvous in Monaco, carefully orchestrated “chance” meetings at public events, and the challenges of dating someone whose every move is scrutinized by the world.
“And you’re sure about this?” Leslie asks finally. “Dating her ... it’s not exactly going to be easy for you.”
Max’s expression softens. “I know. But she’s worth it. We’re worth it.”
Despite her stress, Leslie feels a twinge of sympathy. It can’t be easy, trying to nurture a relationship under such intense pressure.
“Alright,” she sighs. “I’ll do everything I can to make this as smooth as possible. But Max, promise me one thing?”
“What’s that?”
“No more bombshells, okay? My heart can’t take it.”
Max grins. “Well, actually ...”
Leslie’s eyes widen in alarm. “What? What is it now?”
“Her father ... he’s a big F1 fan. He’s been hinting that he’d like to attend a race.”
The room starts to spin. The last thing Leslie hears before everything goes black is Max’s concerned voice saying, “Leslie? Leslie, are you okay?”
When Leslie comes to, she’s lying on the conference room couch, with Max and Christian hovering over her anxiously.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Christian says, relief evident in his voice. “You gave us quite a scare there, Leslie.”
Leslie sits up slowly, her head still spinning. “Please tell me I dreamed all of that,” she mutters.
Max shakes his head, looking apologetic. “Sorry, it’s all real. Are you okay? Should we call a doctor?”
Leslie waves him off. “No, no, I’m fine. Just ... processing.” She takes a deep breath, her PR training kicking in despite her shock. “Okay. Let’s take this one step at a time. First, we need to draft a statement.”
Christian nods. “Good idea. What are you thinking?”
Leslie stands up, pacing as she thinks out loud. “We need to confirm the relationship without making too big a deal of it. Something like ... ‘Red Bull Racing confirms that driver Max Verstappen is in a relationship with Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales. We ask for privacy as they navigate this new chapter.’”
Max frowns. “Isn’t that a bit ... formal?”
Leslie sighs. “Max, you’re dating the future Queen of England. Everything’s going to be a bit formal from now on.”
“She hates that, you know,” Max says softly. “All the formality. It’s why she likes being with me. I treat her like a normal person.”
Leslie pauses in her pacing, struck by the vulnerability in Max’s voice. “You really care about her, don’t you?”
Max nods. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. She’s ... she’s amazing. Smart, funny, kind. When I’m with her, I forget about all the titles and protocol. She’s just ... her.”
Christian clears his throat, looking uncomfortable with the display of emotion. “That’s all well and good, but we need to think about the bigger picture here. This relationship could have major implications for the team, for Formula 1 as a whole.”
Leslie nods, her mind already racing ahead. “We’ll need to coordinate with the palace on all public appearances. Security will need to be completely overhauled. And the media ... oh God, the media is going to have a field day with this.”
“Hey,” Max says, placing a hand on Leslie’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. You’re the best in the business, Leslie. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”
Despite her stress, Leslie feels a rush of affection for the young driver. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Now, let’s get back to work. We have a lot to do before this news breaks.”
As they settle back into planning mode, Leslie can’t help but shake her head in disbelief. A Formula 1 driver and a princess. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale or a cheesy romance novel. But as she watches Max’s face light up when he talks about you, she realizes that sometimes, reality is stranger — and more romantic — than fiction.
“Oh, and Leslie?” Max adds as they’re wrapping up. “About the King wanting to attend a race ...”
Leslie holds up a hand. “One crisis at a time, Max. Let’s get through announcing your relationship before we start planning any more royal visits to the paddock, okay?”
Max grins. “Fair enough. But just so you know, he’s particularly interested in the British Grand Prix. Says it would be ‘jolly good fun’ to present the trophies.”
Leslie closes her eyes, already imagining the logistical nightmare. “Max, I swear, if you’re joking ...”
“Would I joke about something like this?” Max asks innocently.
Leslie looks at him for a long moment, then turns to Christian. “I’m going to need a raise. And possibly a personal team of therapists.”
Christian chuckles. “I think that can be arranged. Welcome to the new era of Red Bull Racing. It’s going to be an interesting ride.”
As Leslie gathers her notes and prepares to face the whirlwind that’s about to engulf them all, she can’t help but smile slightly. It’s going to be challenging, stressful, and probably more than a little crazy. But as she watches Max’s eyes light up at the mention of your name, she realizes that maybe, just maybe, it might all be worth it in the end.
After all, who doesn’t love a good fairy tale?
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble
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ENHYPEN OT6 DEAL WITH YOUR OVULATION
part 1
⚠︎ smut. mdni. breeding kink for most, pet names, so much praise, p in v, size kink for hee's and hoon's, bulge kink for hee's, daddy kink for jay's, oral fem receiving and overstim for jake's, mentions of pain and nipple play for hoon's, video call sex for sunoo's, mean won, pet play and degradation for won's.
nia note ! this should have been out forever ago but it's me... so. this is for @heehoonies 🫵 bc i know you wanted it, and my baby @sleepyhoon
HEESEUNG | thinks he might be in heaven. you’re squeezing him tighter than you ever have, sounding like an angel under him as he presses his hips snugly against yours. he’s already so deep inside you, but he pushes his cock to reach even deeper, taking one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder so he can fuck into you just like he wants to, his bangs falling over his eyes with the motion.
“you sound even wetter now that you’re under me, babydoll,” he gasps into your neck, hips never once faltering despite how hard you’re squeezing him. “sending me your pretty moans when i’m out with the guys… you’re so desperate to be filled up with cum, mhh angel, aren't you?”
you clench even tighter around his girth at the cute pet name he’d taken a liking to using with you. he loves calling you his sweet little angel.
“of course you are.” heeseung snickers, sliding his hand over your tummy, pushing against it to feel his bulge repeatedly fuck into your heat. his mouth is hanging open at the sight. you look so fucked out under him, grabbing and clawing at the bedsheets because when you think he’s finally pushed all the way in, he still gives you more. “so fucking deep babydoll… i’m gonna get you all nice and pregnant.”
JAY | just like promised, made up some bullshit excuse on the spot to leave work so he could come home and give you all the attention you craved so desperately.
“so desperate for cock you forgot your manners?” jay says, his tone stern. he lifts up your skirt to reveal your bare glistening cunt, no panties. “we can’t have that now. can we, pretty girl?”
“please daddy?” you look up to him, lashes all wet and darker from the tears of frustration that had welled up in your eyes while waiting for him.
“please what, angel?”
“please fuck me?” you sound so embarrassed, jay’s cock twitches in his hand. still his pretty shy girl even when you’re so desperate and begging for him.
“you said no condom, right baby? gonna let me feel your raw pussy?”
you nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watch your boyfriend spit on his own cock, hand spreading the wetness on his entire length before he positions it at your entrance, his other hand gripping on your bunched up skirt until his knuckles turn white. your mouth waters at the thought of his cum down your throat, a treat he never fails to give you, pulling out of you to let your mouth finish him off whenever he’s close. this time though, he has different plans.
JAKE | likes to spend entire hours nestled between your thighs, lapping away at your cunt like he might never get another chance to in his life. and it’s nothing new really, but he somehow gets even needier for your pretty pussy to gush around his tongue whenever you’re ovulating, if that’s even possible.
“fuck baby, you’re so much wetter than usual,” he moans against your inner thigh, sloppily licking away at the skin of it before going back to suck on your clit. “gonna come around my tongue again?”
you’ve lost count of how many times he has already made you do just that, promising with a pout that it’s for real the last time, just to have you spread out on the couch for him again in a matter of minutes.
“so, so fucking sweet. wanna stay here forever.” he’s basically making out with your cunt, drooling all over as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you. and you don’t even know when your high starts or ends anymore, pain so good you just have to lay there for him. you’re barely coherent when he comes up to your face, tongue pushing against your own in a messy, wet kiss. and you taste yourself on him, just like he promised. “taste how sweet you are baby? and you wanna deprive me of this?”
SUNGHOON | has you on his lap, thick cock pushing to make space in your snug heat with difficulty. you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how thick his girth feels inside you, stretching you out like no one has ever done before. ruining you for every other man, like he likes to say. you also won’t lie and say you don’t love it. the burning pain feels good once you start getting used to it, but the best part is how his soothing words guide and heal you all throughout it.
“this tiny kitty can barely handle me,” he whispers, strong big arms sneaking around your back to hold you flush against him, his face dipped down to kiss all over your stomach as you slowly sink down onto him. “but you’re so good baby, taking me so well mhh?”
“hoonie… h-hurts.”
“i know that pretty, i know that. but you wanna make me proud don’t you? wanna make hoonie feel so good?”
and you can’t do anything but nod, a small tear slipping past the corner of your eye when he takes your nipples in his mouth, warm tongue toying with the cold bars of the piercings, moaning around your skin when your breath hitches in your throat. you nod because even when it hurts, you know he’s gonna make it feel so good later.
SUNOO | cooes at you when you finally answer his video call and he’s met with the picture of you, hair all messy and forehead all sweaty, with your hands in your panties. he can’t help it when you’re so cute, unable to get off without his help.
he fluffs up a pillow behind him and rests on it, thick glass frames falling down the bridge of his nose and a playful smirk on his plump lips. “can’t come without me, princess?” it’s even more embarrassing to hear him say it out loud, but he’s not wrong. “pull your panties to the side and show me then. show me how badly you want me to fill you up.”
you do, fumbling to give him the best possible view before he even thinks to ask again. you make it a point to spread your cunt open for him to see, revelling in the low guttural moan you steal from him, a shiver running right down to your tummy when you notice how his arm is moving, hoping he’s palming himself to the sight of you. you hope he’ll be nice enough to let you see.
“now i’ll tell you exactly what to do. how to touch yourself properly.” he bites down on his bottom lip when he hears the obscene sounds your wet cunt is making, and he wishes for nothing more than for you to be there with him, not through a screen. “in exchange, when i come back, you’ll let me fill up that pretty pussy of yours how many times i want to. isn’t that right princess?”
JUNGWON | hates when you get an attitude, and he acts like he hates having to put you back in your place, but deep down you both know he loves it, and you do too.
“talking to me like that,’ he says, voice so much lower than usual, as he thrusts into you with an erratic rhythm. your cunt is still sore from the spanks he gave you earlier, and his balls slapping against it as he takes you from behind are doing nothing to soothe you. “so horny you forgot your manners? you’re such a dumb little bunny.”
his cock is pressing so deep inside you, it all feels too much, but not enough at the same time. so you push your hips against his pelvis, trying to take in even more. “god, you’re so pathetic,” he laughs incredulously, punctuating his sentence by pushing his length all the way inside you, keeping his hips flush against the fat of your ass, pushing you forward until your front collapses on the bed. your breath is knocked out of lungs, but you get no time to recover because he grabs a fistful of your hair and speaks right into your ear, voice low and dangerous, “you’re my little pet. my bunny to discipline, and my bunny to fuck and breed. got that?”
#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#jay smut#jongseong smut#jake smut#jaeyun smut#sunghoon smut#sunoo smut#jungwon smut#enhypen drabbles#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#jay x reader#jake x reader#sunghoon x reader#jungwon x reader#sunoo x reader#enhypen headcanons
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chosen
alexia putellas x reader after insisting on going to r's childhood home to spend christmas with her family, alexia helps r navigate a rather difficult reunion with rather difficult parents. angst -> fluff / comfort :)
—
It was almost embarrassing, bringing Alexia home to a family so devoid of love. She’d insisted, though, never having met your parents, even though you’d met her entire extended family multiple times. She’d explained it adorably, that she wanted to see where you came from and the people that raised you. You weren’t entirely sure how to tell her that none of that was worth seeing, so with several complaints, you’d agreed to return home for Christmas. Alexia could be difficult like that; when she wanted something, she was like a dog with a bone.
She wanted you to get to spend Christmas with your family, and she was making it happen. No matter what you said.
What you absolutely couldn’t have, though, was Alexia getting to your childhood home unprepared. She had to know what she was getting herself into, and you did your best to prepare her. It started with small things, telling her how your mother was very religious, or how your father was quiet and probably wouldn’t speak much. But you couldn’t stop thinking of things to warn her about, until you were on the plane sitting next to her, a whole speech about your mother and her disapproval of your career falling from your mouth.
“And she’ll probably say something about us getting real jobs, and I just don’t want you to–”
Alexia cut you off, grabbing the hand that was gesturing wildly as you spoke and giving it a firm squeeze. “Amor, I have been hearing that for years from people. I can take it.”
Her smile was nothing but reassuring, and you weren’t sure how to express just how difficult your parents and your family could be. Your girlfriend knew that your relationship with your family was strained, but you’d always been very tight-lipped about the details. You were filled to the brim with anxious anticipation, and you could tell Alexia didn’t understand why you seemed to be dreading this. Christmas at home with your family should, theoretically, be an enjoyable and fun time.
It wouldn’t be. It hadn’t been, in all the years that you’d been travelling back home for it, and you knew it’d be even worse this year, because every second your mind would be consumed with being terrified of what your girlfriend would be thinking. Of your family and the way they viewed you, the way they spoke and belittled you. The fear that she would realize just how ugly and cruel your family could be and decide she didn’t want that in her life was all consuming.
You’d always heard that a person was the truest version of themselves with their family. This sentiment had always horrified you, your greatest fear being that it was correct. The version of you around your parents was the worst version of yourself, and Alexia was about to see all of it.
But didn’t Alexia deserve to see what she was getting herself into with you? In the end, this was what had you convinced to let her come home with you for the holidays. She deserved to know all of the person she was with.
“Amor, hey.” Alexia called, cupping your cheek with one hand as you focused back on her, apparently having gotten lost in your thoughts. “Where did you go just now?”
Her eyes were crinkled with concern, her fingers soft on your cheek, and you felt the sudden appearance of tears pooling in your eyes. Her brow knitted together and she leaned closer, gently kissing your cheek.
You inhaled deeply, letting her hand in yours ground you into the present. “I’m nervous. I don’t think you get that–”
Alexia interrupted you again, covering your mouth with her hand. “I understand that your family is difficult. I understand that your relationship with them is not the best. But maybe this can be your chance to try to mend things, no? And I promise, amorcita, nothing I see from your family will make me love you any less.”
Alexia kissed you again before pulling you into her chest as best she could with the arm of the airplane seat in between you. You let her hold you, wondering if she was telling the truth. If she’d really still love you after… what you were increasingly sure would be a disaster was over.
—
It started as soon as you arrived. There were a few moments of peace on the drive from the airport to your parents house, with Alexia practically smooshing her face against the window to get a glimpse of your hometown.
And then you’d arrived, and within a few minutes of your arrival, your mother had commented on your hair, your clothes, your career, and your lack of time spent at home. Alexia was quiet, as you knew she would be, because she still felt insecure about her English, and she much preferred to listen to it than to speak it.
Your parents seemed to like Alexia, at least, commenting on how put together she seemed, and how kind it was of her to bring the bottle of wine she had with her as a gift for them. You were still tense, though, standing in the pristinely white kitchen with your parents and your siblings, discussing the plans for the day. It was the 22nd, and there were still things needed to be done before everyone arrived on Christmas Eve. Alexia stood at your side, just observing.
“Alright, what else does everyone need to do?” Your mother asked, taking out a notepad and holding her pen at the ready over it, as if you all weren’t adults that could remember simple tasks.
“I need to get the ingredients for the Christmas cookies I’m going to make.” You stated, having done all of your shopping already and sent it ahead.
“Really? You’re going to make those cookies?” Your mother replied, her fast twisting with disgust. You shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.
“Yes, everyone normally likes them.”
Your mother exchanged a look with your father, smirking as she looked back at her list. “Honey, no one eats them. I throw most of them out every year when you’re not looking.”
Your face burned with embarrassment, and you shrunk into yourself, head bowed as you stared at the floor and willed everyone to stop looking at you. This was what you’d always done; instead of arguing back, you’d shut down. They could say what they wanted, but you didn’t have to let it hurt you. You weren’t exactly sure how to stop it from hurting, but they didn’t have to know that.
Yet as your Mom turned to your sister to ask her what she had left to do, Alexia stepped closer towards you, grabbing your hand and taking a deep breath.
“I like the cookies. And so does the team, they always ask you to bring them.” Her voice was soft, words accented, but the room was silent. Your mother turned to look at her, an odd expression on her face, and you sighed internally. You could feel nothing but deep gratitude for Alexia, sweet loyal Alexia who loved anything you cooked and and refused to let even you criticize yourself.
Your Mother chuckled, a cruel sound that made you wince.
“You don’t need to lie, Alexia, you’re already way out of her league. You shouldn’t have to eat her awful baking too.” Your Mother joked, a glint in her eye that told you she wasn’t really joking.
Still, Alexia seemed offended at your mother’s words, and you should have known she would be. Her grip on your hand tightened, and she stepped in closer.
“No, she is a good baker, and I–”
Your father cut Alexia off, speaking for the first time since you’d arrived. “Well, the Spanish do have weird tastes. Excessively affectionate, too.” His eyes flickered down to where your hand was intertwined with Alexia’s, his meaning clear in his tone.
You felt Alexia’s hand slip from yours, and you could see out of the corner of your eye that she had turned red. This was a step too far. Making Alexia feel embarrassed for showing affection towards you… you could take everything they had to throw at you, but they were not allowed to mess with the best person you’d ever known.
You stepped forward, despite the light tug on the back of your shirt from Alexia, clearly telling you to let it go. You couldn’t let it go; you could handle the disrespect from your parents, but you wouldn’t let them do the same to Alexia.
“That was rude, Dad.” Your voice shook pathetically, the big stand you were taking seemed pitiful as soon as you tried to speak.
Again, your parents just exchanged amused glances, and you could see out of the corner of your eye your siblings rolling their eyes. It seemed as if no one was on your side, and you weren’t sure why you were surprised. That’s how it always went.
Without another word in your direction, your Mother turned to your siblings, asking them what they had left to do. Of course, there was no criticism of the cake your sister intended to bake, even though it always came out dry. No one told your brother that the amount of alcohol he was planning on getting was absurd. It seemed the humiliation was only reserved for you.
The old feeling was back, the one of deep loneliness. You’d spent almost 18 years in this house, feeling like an outsider. Whenever you returned, it was like you reverted back to the 18 year old that had left, no matter how much time had passed. You always felt like an irrationally angry kid in the face of how your parents treated you, and you hated it. Always second guessing yourself, always half sure that you were the one in the wrong. Your parents, your brother and your sister, they all agreed that you were the problem. You were alone, here, like you always were.
Another tug on your hand, though, reminded you that you weren’t actually alone.
“Come on, show me your room.” Alexia whispered, her hands gentle as she guided you out of the room. She was shocked, to say the least, at your family’s treatment of you. She’d known you had a difficult relationship but she didn’t imagine it was like this. You’d been home for 10 minutes, seeing your parents for the first time in almost a year, and they’d wasted no time trying to embarrass you in front of her. She was hoping this was a one off, though, perhaps an inside joke she had misunderstood. So, she let you lead the way to your room, taking in the small space more critically than she normally would have.
Her room at her mothers house was left practically untouched from when she’d moved out. It was filled with posters of footballers and old memories. Your room here, though, was devoid of any sentiment. No pictures, no decorations, nothing that made it feel like it had been yours. Alexia wasn’t sure if your parents had cleared away any trace of you from the room, or if it had never really been decorated in the first place. She wasn’t sure which she preferred, honestly.
But as you leaned into her wordlessly for a hug as soon as the bedroom door shut behind you, Alexia began to worry. Making you bring her here was starting to feel like a mistake. She didn’t have the whole picture, or even most of it. All she knew was that she hated the blank expression on your face, and she hated the way you seemed to shrink into yourself around your parents. Like you’d rather disappear than be noticed by them.
—
It wasn’t a one off, the awkward moment upon your immediate arrival home. It had barely been 24 hours, but Alexia had witnessed at least 5 different instances of your parents treating you like an inconvenient annoyance instead of the daughter they hadn’t seen in almost a year.
First, it was your mother asking about your plans for when football ended.
“All I’m saying, honey, is that you are not going to be able to find a good job with your school records.” She tutted, before turning to Alexia. “I swear, she didn’t finish a math or science class with more than a C her entire time in school.”
Your mother smiled, as if she’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Alexia’s face was one of both shock and horror. Her mami would never have said something even remotely close to what your mother had just said, even if Alexia had failed every class she’d ever taken. It was so unnecessary, and your girlfriend could see the weight your mother’s words had over you.
It was more of the same from the day before; instead of saying anything in response, you just sank back into the couch, gaze fixed on the floor. This only seemed to mollify your mom, and as she kept talking, rehashing every test you’d failed, Alexia could see tears beginning to well in your eyes.
“Her marks were so bad before she left for football, I don’t think she would have even graduated.” Your mother chuckled. It was untrue; your grades weren’t that bad. Not the best, sure, but you weren’t in any danger of failing or getting kicked out. Still, it was like your mouth was sealed shut, and saying anything in response wasn’t possible. You couldn’t defend yourself, you couldn’t even look up from the ground. It was pathetic.
“Amor, can you help me choose what to wear tonight? I brought two sweaters, and I cannot decide.”
Alexia didn’t wait for a response from you, standing and reaching for your hand, well past caring that your parents seemed to think of Alexia’s affection as something of an entertaining joke. You followed her down the hall and into your bedroom, her hand warm and soft in yours, only making the sob caught in your throat more difficult to keep in.
As soon as you were safely in your sadly bare bedroom, though, she was wrapping you up tight in her arms.
You tried to defend yourself, mortified at everything your mother had said, words mumbled into Alexia’s sweatshirt. “I’m not dumb. She made it sound like I’m dumb, but–”
Alexia cut you off, holding you even tighter. “You are not dumb, I know this. Do not listen to her, do not even think about it. You are so intelligent, mi amor, I promise you.”
Your body began to shake in her arms, a quiet thank you breaking the brief silence. You were crying, and it was all Alexia could do to keep holding you until the tears stopped. What else could she say?
But for every conversation that followed in which your mother attempted to belittle you or make you feel bad, Alexia would find an excuse to pull you away.
When your mother expressed her distaste for your haircut, Alexia practically wrote you a poem in the garage about how much she loved your hair.
When your father made a thinly veiled comment about how you were most definitely not invited to church the following day, as the other families would be judgemental about your lifestyle, Alexia was right beside you, trying to hold back her absolute fury. She forced a smile, telling your father it was better you both stay home, because ignorance and stupidity were not worth engaging with.
When your mother suggested you eat a salad instead of the pasta you were going to order for dinner, Alexia very pointedly informed your mother that you were among the fittest on the team. And later, laying in bed, when she could tell you were still thinking about the comment, she… reminded you how much she loved your body. Twice.
Alexia had an answer for everything, a way to make your chest stop squeezing whenever your mother opened her mouth. You weren’t sure how she was doing it, weren’t sure why she was possibly still here. After all of your flaws were explicitly laid out in front of her, she seemed only more determined to make it clear how much she loved you.
It was easier, one you decided to just focus on Alexia and not what your parents had to say. With her there with you, it felt like this was a trip you could maybe get through.
But then Alexia offered to take the family dog for a long walk while you caught up with your sister, by far your favorite member of the family. She thought it was important that you have time together, and she didn’t mind a bit of time away from the loud chaos that had taken over the house.
She left with the dog, returning only 45 minutes later, with no idea what her absence had given the opportunity for.
Alexia came back into the house, unhooking the dog from his leash, the smile falling from her face when she sensed the tension in the room. You were nowhere to be seen, and your parents looked beyond furious, clattering around angrily in the kitchen as they cooked. Your sister sat on the couch, guilt written across her face.
“She’s in her room, go,” your sister whispered, catching Alexia’s eye and giving her a meaningful nod. It didn’t take a mind reader to understand what had happened. Things had been on the brink with your parents the short time you’d been home. It seemed everything had finally boiled over. Alexia moved towards your room as fast as was socially acceptable, knocking softly on the door before opening it. You were sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, face wet with tears.
“Oh, mí bebe,” Alexia whispered, shutting the door quietly behind her and lowering herself onto the ground next to you. Her strong arms pulled you into a tight hug, and you burrowed into her, not minding the chill of her skin from the cold outside. No hug had ever felt warmer.
“I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, feeling guilt upon guilt at the fact that you’d brought your girlfriend into this environment, even if she’d insisted on it. How embarrassed she must be, to see you so easily humiliated by your parents. She must be rethinking everything, your whole relationship.
But, as Alexia was often inclined to do, she surprised you, tenderly wiping away your tears and giving you a reassuring smile.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, nothing.” She assured you, leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek.
“I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Then let’s go. We can get flights back to Spain. Be home before Christmas, spend it ourselves. Just us.”
“You’d do that?”
“Of course I would, amor.”
“You wanted to come here, though, I don’t want to ruin everything,”
Alexia cut you off. “I don’t want to be anywhere that makes you unhappy.” She said softly. You looked up at her finally, and the adoring expression on her face as she gazed down at you was almost overwhelming.
“Okay.” You murmured, pressing your face into her shoulder. She held you close, pulling out her phone to buy tickets on the next flight out. Once that was done, she guided you away from the safety of her sweatshirt, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.
“Get packing. I am going to speak to your parents.”
“Ale,”
“No. I am. Stay here, pack. I will be back in a moment.”
—
You couldn’t be sure what Alexia said to your parents. They didn’t speak as you left the house, and neither did either of your siblings. They all just watched you go, a somewhat impressed look on your sister’s face. Alexia wouldn’t tell you, either, saying she’d just told them what they needed to hear.
The next half a day or so went by in a blur. You were emotionally exhausted from being home, and Alexia practically had to drag you through the airport once you’d landed in Barcelona. Before you knew it, you were at Alexia’s mother’s house for Christmas Eve. Eli had been delighted to have the both of you home, not saying a single word about how you were supposed to be at your family’s home.
You could relax, finally, at Eli’s house with people you felt comfortable around. You loved Alexia’s family, loved how they all seemed excited to see you, asked you enthusiastic questions about your life. It was nice, spending the holidays with them. With Alexia’s arms around your shoulders, making sure you were always tucked into her side, and her family so happily chatting around you, it was so nice to be around a happy, loving family.
Happy, though, wasn’t all you felt. You watched Alexia with her Mami, her cousins and her aunts and uncles. She fit so easily, smiling widely as she joked around with them. Alexia was loved by her family, but you were not. You never had been and you didn’t understand why.
There had to be over 50 people in the house, and you were confident that no one would notice if you slipped off, just for a minute. Someone had noticed. Alba noticed the tears in your eyes, too, the ones you hadn’t even been aware of. So, while you darted off to the bathroom, the brunette went in search of her sister.
She found her in a crowd of her uncles, in a heated argument about some football tactic. Alba didn’t have the patience to wait until the conversation had ended, and knew that if Alexia had seen you just a few moments before, she wouldn’t either.
“Ale.” Alba said quietly, pulling on her sister’s arm. The blonde shook her off, barely turning her head to look at her as she did so. “Alexia, now.”
With a roll of her eyes, Alexia exited the conversation. “Ay dios mio, what, Alba?” she huffed, dragging her feet as Alba yanked her in the direction of the bathroom.
“Your girlfriend snuck away, and it looked like she was crying. Just thought you’d want to know.” Alba snapped with a frown, turning on her heel and stomping away. Alexia would fix that later, she thought.
“Amor?” Alexia called, knocking quietly. “Are you in there?”
She heard a deep inhale, and then your shaky voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.”
Alexia tried the handle again. “Let me in, please.”
A moment passed before the lock clicked open and Alexia practically threw herself through the door and into the bathroom.
Your makeup was running, and you were desperately trying to mop up the tears still streaming down your face.
“Come here.” Alexia said simply, opening her arms for you to collapse into. It was a good thing she was wearing a black sweater, or there’d have been mascara visible all over it. You sniffled against her for a few moments, and she didn’t push you to talk. She ran her hand through your hair, leaving a light kiss on the top of your head.
You pulled away after a moment, reaching for a tissue, but Alexia grabbed one before you could, gently wiping away the tears and running makeup off your face. She had a frown set on her face, and you misunderstood the cause.
“I’m sorry. I’m okay, you can go back to your family.”
Her frown deepened. “Do not say sorry. What upset you? Did someone say something?”
You shook your head, feeling more tears well up in your eyes though you knew you really shouldn’t be crying anymore about this. “No, no one said anything.” You were wilting under Alexia’s stern gaze, so she made a conscious effort to soften, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.
“Tell me what has you so upset.” She encouraged, pulling your body closer into hers.
You exhaled shakily, not quite sure how to explain it without sounding like an awful, pathetic person. “I… it’s just…”
Alexia sighed, resting her hand on your cheek and encouraging you to look up at her. “You can tell me, bebé. Whatever it is, you can always tell me.”
“It’s hard.” You mumbled eventually, studying the floor under your feet very closely.
“What is hard?”
“Being here.” You admitted. “With your family who all adore you, and they should, it’s just that my family… they don’t… and I just want…” Your voice broke and you slammed your mouth shut, unwilling to allow yourself to break down again.
“Amor,” Alexia breathed, engulfing you once more in a tight hug. “I know. It is not fair the way they treat you, I am so sorry. It makes sense that this is hard, I understand.”
You held tight to your girlfriend, letting the smell of her perfume wash over you. Alexia always knew what to say. Always knew how to make you feel better. You didn’t deserve someone as good as her, you were sure of that. As if reading your thoughts, Alexia leaned away from the hug and cradled your face in her hands.
“Let’s go home. I have a surprise for you there.” Her face was so earnest and hopeful, you felt your heart melt.
“But your family–”
“They will understand, and I am pretty sure they will not even notice us leave anyway, it is so loud in here, everyone loves to hear the sound of their own voice.” With a fond roll of her eyes and a half smile, Alexia had you convinced. She made sure the makeup that had run while you cried was wiped off your face, before expertly leading you out of the house. As she said, most of her family was too busy chatting to notice Alexia pulling you through the crowd, though she did stop to say goodbye to her mother. Eli gave you a tight hug, sending the two of you on your way with a large shopping bag full of wrapped gifts.
It didn’t seem to bother Alexia, leaving early. In fact, she seemed so excited about whatever surprise she had for you at home that she was practically bouncing in the driver’s seat. Her excitement remained all the way home, until you were sitting on the sofa in your shared apartment, hands dutifully covering your eyes.
There was some rustling in the front hall closet, what sounded like a box falling from a shelf and Alexia’s voice quietly swearing. You smiled to yourself, hearing her footsteps approach, before something was placed in your lap.
“Okay! Open!” Alexia sang, sitting on the edge of the coffee table just in front of you. Opening your eyes, you found a gift bag resting in your lap, puffy as though it was a bit too small for whatever was inside, tissue paper haphazardly covering the opening of the bag. “Come on! Open!”
You chuckled, pulling the tissue paper out of the reindeer covered bag, and reaching in. Before you had even processed the fabric in your hands, Alexia was leaning in to kiss you, bursting with eagerness.
“It is matching Christmas pajamas!” She burst out, grinning from ear to ear as you unfolded the red and white plaid pajama pants, white long sleeve shirts with a well decorated christmas tree adorning the front.
You couldn’t help but match her energy, smiling back at her as she explained herself.
“I looked up Christmas traditions we could start, just ourselves. I have a whole list, and this is the first thing on the list. New matching pajamas every Christmas Eve. A new… our family tradition.”
It shouldn’t have surprised you, that Alexia thought of you as her family, but maybe you just weren’t expecting anyone to choose you when your family wouldn’t even do that. You dropped the pajamas into your lap, pulling her in for a soft kiss. “You’re the sweetest. I love it. And I love you.”
“I love you more.” Alexia whispered, kissing you again before pulling you to your feet. “Let’s put them on and watch a Christmas movie!”
It didn’t matter that Alexia didn’t particularly care for Christmas movies. Not when she was waiting for you on the bed, her set of pajamas looking adorable on her. Her fading blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun, and her face broke into a massive smile when she saw you in your set of pajamas.
And as you laid in Alexia’s arms, plaid pajama covered legs tangled together as a Christmas movie played on the TV, it didn’t matter so much that you didn’t have your family to celebrate with. You had Alexia, and that was more than enough.
—
have not proofread this so pls tell me if you find a typo
i hope you enjoy! i know the holidays aren't always enjoyable for everyone, and honestly it's gonna be a weird one for me, but i hope everyone feels loved and appreciated this year.
#woso x reader#woso imagine#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics
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bf!Rafe making it up to his stubborn girlfriend <3 a/n a lil smthin based on this post eheh!!
A weary sigh escaped your throat, as you boredly scrolled through tiktok, with your boyfriend mere inches away, too busy conversing with Topper on the phone to direct his attention to you.
You knew how important business was for Rafe, but sometimes it got out of hand, with him forgetting himself on the phone, taking one call after another, completely abandoning you on his bed (like you’re one of his night stands; in your words).
Your lips tugged into a smile when you stumbled upon a funny video, chuckling as you sent it to Rafe, though you could’ve easily moved across the bed and shoved it in his face. That wasn’t a choice right now, as you were mad at him, too upset to humor him with silly cats whom you referred to as ‘us’ when you sent it to him.
The ping ringed through Rafe’s ear, earning a puzzled look out of the latter when he checked the notification, and noticed it was a video from you. He turned in your direction, eyebrows quirking with confusion, almost as if he was seeking an explanation for his silent question.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled around in bed, until you were no longer facing your boyfriend, giving him your back instead. You got back to scrolling through tiktok, hoping Rafe would get the hint and finally call it off for the night.
And he did, coming up with a random excuse to get rid of Topper, not giving him a chance to question Rafe before the boy already hung up, immediately checking the video you sent. You suppressed the smile forming on your lips as the sound of his giggles erupted through your ears, spiraling a fit of excitement through your chest.
“What is this?!” He asked, leaning against the bed frame, lips pursing into a pout when he didn't receive a response in return. “Hello? Baby?” Rafe paused for a moment, gaze fully fixed on you, in hopes of earning your attention. He scoffed, finally understanding what you were doing. “Are you ignoring me?”
His attention shifted back to the screen when his phone pinged with another notification from you, your said message causing him to grin from ear to ear.
‘shut up.’ and another, ‘dont speak 2 me.’
“Are you mad at me?” He cooed, tossing his phone to the side, before he eventually joined your side, nuzzling around to get comfortable now that your back pressed firmly over his chest. “C’mon, speak to me, why are you giving me the silent treatment?”
You remained silent, choking back a giggle when his face found the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses to your skin as his breath fanned over the flesh, the sensation like feather to your skin.
“Is this about Topper?” He questioned between kisses, voice slightly muffled. Rafe then wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing you closer to his chest, even more close than earlier, if that was even possible. “I’m sorry, you know I get busy sometimes, I don't mean to purposely ignore you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rafe perked up when you spoke, smiling as he took in the side of your face, your frown instantly replaced with a sheepish smile. “Might as well jus’ break up with me, since you’re so busy n’ all that stuff.”
“All that stuff?” He repeated, fully straightening in his position. He poked your cheek with his finger, giggling when you smacked his hand, feigning oblivion to your amused expression despite how annoyed you seemed. “Didn’t you just compare us to cats? You do that with everyone you break up with?”
“Hmm,” you hummed, giving in when Rafe tugged your chin, forcing your face in his direction. You pretended to think, grabbing his hand and kissing it, the gesture slightly catching Rafe off guard, well aware of how stubborn you are when you're upset. “Only with the handsome ones.”
“You think I’m handsome?” He muttered, voice dropping barely above a whisper. He leaned down, brushing his thumb over your lip. He pecked your forehead, the press of his plush lips tickling your flesh. “I’m sorry, I love you.”
“It’s okay,” you reassured, levelling yourself with Rafe as you straightened up, now face to face with him. “I jus’ missed you s’all, you know I require a lot of attention.”
“And I’m willing to give it to you,” he mumbled, “Missed,” a kiss, “my pretty,” and another, “girl.” You giggled, throwing your head back in an attempt to playfully dodge his kisses, merely for Rafe to chase after your lips, now fully pinning you to the bed. “Let’s watch more cat videos,” he said, grabbing your phone from the night stand. “Stop sulking with me, yeah?”
You rolled your eyes, maintaining a blank expression as Rafe set your phone in front of your face, waiting for face ID to work. “You’re so annoying.”
“And you love me,” he replied, face twisting into a frown as his fingers hovered over the screen. “Where the fuck is tiktok?”
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#drew starkey#outer banks
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stress to relieve, need to fulfill.
jinx x fem!reader
summary: what’s there to do when your friend keeps pushing your boundaries after a long, tiring week? only wrong answers.
notes: nsfw, modern au. jinx and reader smokes both nicotine and weed. stoner reader. high sex. u know mee, self indulgent asf. if you see first person pronouns, no you didn’t. 2,8k wc.
ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺
you see her leaning against the railing, shoulders pushed behind and back straight, smiling smugly and flirty as her head tilted to the side.
isn’t she stunning? breathtaking?
but all that attitude was directed to ekko, who had her almost trapped as both of his hands also rested on the railing, each one next to her waist.
“jinx, hurry!” you groaned from your spot on the sidewalk, throwing your head back in annoyance. you had finished your cigarette two minutes ago, growing impatient by the second.
the wind brushes against her hair and she tucks a piece behind her ear. god, the way ekko’s body towers over hers makes you want to be sick. it's a disgusting feeling, seeing her flirting so easily.
"I'm comiiiiing!" she calls out in annoyance, ekko lets out a light chuckled as she brushes past him with a playful roll of her eyes. she always knows how to make those boys crazy. "jesus, did I take that long? you’re so impatient." she teased, stopping right in front of you and resting a hand on her hip.
you rolled your eyes, lighting another cigarette. “yes, i wanna get home already.”
"geez, impatient and bitchy today." she muttered under her breath, smirking as you both started to walk, she kept in stride beside you, occasionally bumping your shoulders together. she could see the agitation in your eyes, even as you refused to look at her. It was honestly comical.
you were looking forward to today for two weeks now. finals were done, you had only another week of pointless classes before graduating and leaving this shitty town behind. the smoke session was very much needed, and luckily you had the house all to yourself.
"don’t worry." she teased after a moment. "no more ekko attention. i’m all yours today, you needy baby." she pinched your cheek, causing you to gently slap her hand away, huffing at her mocking. “i swear to god— i’ve had a stressful week, jinx, i don’t know where you get all that energy from.” you mumbled, handing her the cig. "stressful week, or you just need to get laid?" jinx joked, her eyes sparkled in a playful mischief as she took the cigarette and raised it to her lips, taking a short puff before exhaling the smoke through her lips.
she was clearly enjoying her teasing, and your grumpy face only encouraged her. "ohhh, your poor baby." she stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “knock it off,” you muttered, though you wrapped an arm around her shoulders as you grab the cig back, taking a long drag.
jinx chuckled, clearly pleased with herself as she leaned into you. the cigarette continued to pass between you, her body was soft against yours.
"you are adorable when you're all grumpy and pouty." she teased, running her other hand through your hair. she turned her head slightly to the side and nipped at your earlobe, an amused huff escaping her lips, her breath against your ear was driving me insane. “i want to see how far this pouty mood goes." she whispered before pressing a kiss just below your ear.
“jinx—“ you gasped, trying to hide your blush. “we’re passing by a playground.”
"and?" she laughed, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at her. she feigned an innocent pout, her bottom lip slightly jutting out. "no one is around. we’re the only ones walking."
you look down at her mouth, your own watering at the thought of nibbling her pouty lip. would she yelp? sigh? would she flinch away or kiss you back?
you and jinx were friends, strictly. for years now. she was flirty, always pushing boundaries but then she would play dumb, as if leading people on was her favorite hobby. and you had a big fat crush on her. that’s why you didn’t want to risk it.
so you ended up pinching her nose and continuing walking, finishing the cigarette.
she let out a small squeak, a pout returning to her lips. she gently punched your shoulder in retaliation before sticking out her tongue. “mean." she teased, her arm still wrapped around your waist as you continued to walk. "you’re no fun today."
“i’ll let you choose the movie.” you say as if to apologize, pulling her into that side hug you were locked in previously.
soon enough you reach to your house, she settles on the couch and scrolls through the streaming services to find something to watch as you get the snacks you bought days before, quickly going back to bump your hips against hers to make space for you to sit down.
she smirked at the pile of snacks you had set down on the coffee table. "geez, you really went all out for our movie night, didn't you?"
you shrugged, a small smile appearing on your face. you weren’t about to admit that you picked out her favorites purposefully. “mhm… did you choose something yet?”
jinx looked down from the screen and watched as you began to roll the blunt, the sight bringing a smirk to her face. "hmm, not yet," she said. "nothing looks interesting enough."
“don’t be picky, we’ll be way too out of it to care about it.” you chuckled. "you’re right, the plot won't even make sense to us anyway." she huffed a chuckle.
her eyes tracing the movements of your hands, continuing to watch you finish rolling the blunt, "hurry upppp," she whined, poking your thigh impatiently. "i wanna get high already."
a small chuckle left your mouth, amused by her eagerness. “here,” you hand her the blunt and light it up for her. "finally…" she groaned happily, bringing the joint to her lips and taking a deep inhale.
holding the smoke in her lungs for a few moments, she exhaled slowly before turning to smirk at me.
"your turn, slowpoke.”
"I was taking my time, you impatient brat." you brought the joint to your lips and inhaled a deep puff, the taste of herbs filling your mouth, you felt your entire body release tension already.
you exhaled slowly, the familiar feeling of relaxation settling in your bones. as you passed the joint back to her, your eyes flicked toward jinx, who was already looking at you, eyes already a little dazed, her smirk was lazy and her cheeks a hint of pink as the weed started to cloud your minds.
"you look wrecked already.” you teased, poking her shoulder. she let out a small huff and rolled her eyes before taking another deep drag of the blunt.
"says the one who practically moans every time they get high."
your face flushed with embarrassment at her words. "I do not moan every time." you protested, although you couldn't keep the chuckle out of your voice. jinx let out a scoff, amused by your denial. "please, i’ve seen you high enough times to know you're a total needy whiner when stoned." she teased, taking another drag of the joint as her eyes scanned up and down your body.
her gaze felt like a physical touch, you were growing warmer as you forced yourself to look away. "I am not a needy whiner when stoned."
half an hour later the weed had fully settled into your systems. you barely paid attention to the movie playing, the only thing on your mind was her body pressed against yours, the warmth of it making you want to melt against her.
she was leaning into you, her head resting on your shoulder as she laughed at the crappy jokes, completely oblivious to the effect she was having on you.
you felt dizzy, shifting to nuzzle your nose into the crook of her neck. “i love this perfume,” you slurred quietly, making her smile and huff amusedly. "i know, you say that every time I wear it." she said, lifting a hand to play with a strand of your hair. you hummed, taking in the sweet smell of her perfume, it was intoxicating.
"It's so good,” you mumbled, nuzzling further into her neck, inhaling deeply.
jinx chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. her fingers traced lightly down you jaw before they reached your chin and gently forced you to look at her.
"how high are you, pretty baby?" she teased, her voice lower now as her fingers continued to explore your face. you looked up at her, eyes glassy and unfocused. it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the way her fingers felt against your skin. “very," you mumbled, the words slurring in your mouth. "very high. i feel kinda floaty."
jinx’s eyes darkened, the gleam of mischief appearing in them. "you are so high." she teased, her thumb tracing your bottom lip. “just how i like you."
you hummed faintly, pretending to bite on her finger. jinx let out a low, dark chuckle, her thumb now pressing against your tongue. "naughty girl."
her words sent a shiver down your spine, your heart raced in your chest. the way she was looking at you sent waves of heat through your body.
your lips closed around her finger, a low whimper vibrating down your throat at the sensation, soon suctioning without breaking eye contact. her eyes darkened even further, the sound of your whimper making her breath hitch. a low, primal sound left her lips as her gaze fixated on your.
"you’re getting bold, baby," she purred, her thumb pushing further into your mouth. you hummed around her finger, the feeling making your head spin even further. the combination of the weed and her scent was overwhelming, it was turning your brain to mush. your eyes fluttered, your tongue swirling around her thumb. you didn’t know where this audacity was coming from, but it just felt so good.
jinx chuckled darkly, her eyes scanning your face as her thumb gently caressed your lips. "you just can't help yourself, can you?" her tone was low and teasing, but you could hear the hint of restraint in it. “so needy…"
you gently pulled away from her thumb, a trail of saliva connecting both of you. her gaze darkened even further at the sight, her eyes scanning over your face with a mix of hunger and restraint. her breath hitched as your lips touched her jaw. she tilted her head to the side, exposing more of her skin to your mouth.
“you’re being such a good girl for me right now." she whispered, her free hand finding the nape of your neck. her words causing a shiver run down your spine, eagerly pushing her down to lay on her back as you kept savoring her skin, her body laid beneath yours without resistance.
she hummed, her hand in your hair. she gently tugged on the strands. you were too focused to respond to her teasing. she tilted her head back as your lips traveled down her neck, hands roaming around her form shamelessly. she felt warm beneath your body, your fingertips sneaking down her shirt and feeling her smooth skin. her pulse quickened under your lips as your body pressed flush against her. a moan left her throat, her grip on your hair tightening. her hips bucked against yours, the movement was subtle but definitely deliberate. you were doing such a good job at working her up.
jinx’s breath hitched as your fingers moved to the buttons of her jeans, the action seeming to catch her off guard. she wasn’t complaining, but she wasn’t expecting it. “you’re getting awfully handsy,” she rasped.
“i just wanna taste you…” you almost whined into her neck, too drunk with desire to stop and question your own actions.
“taste me, huh?” jinx chuckled, her hand in your hair gripping harder. her voice was still teasing but now laced with a hint of lust. “can you even handle it, pretty baby?”
you looked up at her, eyes glassy and lips slightly swollen. you knew you looked wrecked right now, a needy mess of a girl yearning for more. but you didn’t care.
"i can handle it." you huffed, your fingers struggling a bit with the last button. "i need to taste you, please.”
you couldn’t handle it.
your fuzzy senses made you move sloppily, munching on her pussy like she was your last meal, muffling your whimpers and moans against her as you humped the edge of the couch like a dog in heat. the way you lapped her folds made her groan loudly, rocking her hips against your face and pulling your hair aggressively.
“so pathetic,” she chuckled hoarsely, the view of you between her legs was making it hard for her to keep her composure. “you’re so desperate for me, such a needy—“ pathetic girl she was about to say, but the words dissolved in her throat as a loud moan escaped her lips when you sucked hard on her clit. she tightened her grip on your hair, guiding your movements. “hmmyeah…that’s it. good girl.”
your heart raced at the praise, she was intoxicating. a goddess you’d want to live and die for, to go against your own convictions just for a little bit of her.
her thighs closed around your head, holding you in place as you continued to slurp her fluids. the sounds and smell of sex will definitely linger in the fabric of the sofa, yet again, that was the last of your concerns. in fact, who says you won’t be sniffing on it days later just hoping to catch a taste of her again.
her moans rasped her throat, getting impossibly louder as she edged her high. her legs around my head was making you feel dizzy, the taste of her on your tongue, her noises in your ear, her scent in your nose. it was like your own version of heaven.
she was gripping your hair so hard it was almost painful, but you didn't mind. you wanted to hear her come undone, “please," you whimpered, barely able to get the word out. you kept begging between sloppy kisses on her folds. “please, please, please..let me make you come, please.” you whined desperately.
she pulled at your hair to meet your eyes, both of you had them glossy, red and wide pupils. jinx bit her lip so hard that it drew blood at some point, staining her cracked lips in a dark red shade.
“you’re really gonna make me lose it.” she choked out.
your tongue was relentless, switching between pressing and swirling around her clit and pumping inside her hole, her creamy juices dripping down your chin. “please cum, i wanna taste you, hm, jinx,” the words fell out of your mouth like a prayer, you hands gripping her thighs to the point of leaving marks on her pale skin.
“can’t— don’t stop!” she trembled, babbling and babbling incoherences, “i-i’m—“ a loud, guttural moan broke her sentence. her slim body tensed up before quivering and eyes shut as she rode out her peak. she was mesmerizing, you couldn’t stop even when your jaw was aching so bad. “f-fuck, stop, stop.” she pleaded, flinching away from your greedy mouth.
the intensity left you both panting heavily, she covered her face with her forearm and you shifted to rest on her stomach, fingertip drawing random patterns over her cloudy tattoos. jinx was wrecked, trying to even her breath.
“c’mere.” she mumbled, petting your head with her free hand. she doesn’t have to ask twice for you to crawl up to her, resting your head on her chest. youf mind was still dizzy from everything that just happened.
she was running her hand through your hair, when she broke the silence "you’re such a good girl," she murmured, her voice hoarse.
heat rushed to your face at her words. even just her voice sounded wrecked, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at knowing you were the one who did that to her.
you nuzzled yourself further into her chest, your body was starting to feel heavy. she chuckled faintly, her hand still running through your hair. "and now you're a sleepy, stoned mess."
after a beat, she added, "not that that's any differently from how you usually are, though."
“stop babbling,” you mumbled, pecking the top of her breast. “let’s nap.” she groaned softly, shifting slightly to fix her underwear and lay comfortably. “you’re still no fun.” she murmured, cuddling you back.
bonus !
having jinx on your lap as you hung out with the group wasn’t something new. but only a fool wouldn’t realize the change of dynamic between you and her. as one of your hands was busy holding your drink, the other gripped possessively to her hip, pulling her back in place whenever she slipped for squirming too much, babygirl couldn’t sit still as she told her fabulous stories.
“jinx,” ekko’s voice interrupted as he approached with a confident smile. “i have a blunt to share, ya wanna head upstairs?”
“oop— nah, thanks man.” she chuckled, leaning back against your chest as she held your hand to her stomach. “i only smoke my girlfriend’s weed.”
#wrote this at work#jinx x reader#jinx#jinx arcane#lesbian#jinx x fem!reader#arcane#jinx smut#jinx x reader smut#arcane jinx#jinx x y/n#jinx x you#jinx league of legends#jinx lol#jinx fanfic
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄
xavier x reader
while the entire kingdom of philos rejoices over the soon-to-be-born heir to the throne, the king’s unwavering priority remains clear: his queen
genre/warnings: mildly suggestive, fluff, fluff, fluff, comfort, king!xavier and queen!reader, pregnancy, spoilers! from xavier's myth shooting stars and taking elements of xavier's card silvery polyphony
note: i'm not actually a xavier girlie... but ever since his myth and anecdote when shooting stars fall, he's been marinating in my head :')
“Your Majesty, here are the gifts meant for the Queen by the townsfolk.”
Xavier’s gaze swept over the various trinkets that filled the throne room—from fine fabrics and glistening pearls, to handwritten messages with heartfelt wishes for the future royal baby and your wellbeing. He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.
"All this? You’ve inspected every single one of them?" he questioned, gaze flicked to Jeremiah, his aide. His cerulean eyes narrowed slightly. "Nothing with malicious intent?"
Jeremiah shook his head with a smile. "No. They are purely tokens of love and respect for Her Majesty."
"I see..."
Xavier hummed softly, the stiffness in his posture easing as the assurance settled over him—no harm would come to you. In the fifth year of your reign as King and Queen of Philos, it had become clear that the people had come to adore their queen to such an extent.
As they should. The king found himself smiling despite his usual composure then. You were due their respect for all of your service and compassion. And now, with you carrying the future heir to the throne, it was even more deserved.
"Has the Queen been well? She hasn't been around much," Jeremiah asked, a knowing look crossed his face. "After all, you're counting down the days now..."
With the royal physician declaring you were at full-term, you could give birth any day now. Xavier would be lying if he said he wasn't antsy, but the least he could do in front of his subjects was showing an air of indifference.
But of course, Jeremiah knew him best after you.
"Why don't you pay her a visit? And oh, yeah, I think I've heard the maids saying Her Majesty is missing having the King serenading her!"
Your husband had been busy these past few days that he had little time to spend with you each day.
Of course, you missed him. There wasn’t much you could do while in confinement. And so when he entered your chambers on this windy winter day, you were more enthusiastic than you should have—
“Xavier!” You turned to him and smiled so brightly, your excitement making you rise to your feet and scamper towards him.
But he was faster, closing the distance in an instant and catching you before you could take more than a few steps. His hands steadied you, as the heavy weight in your womb proved to be a challenge.
“You’re supposed to be on bedrest,” he scolded, a frown tugging at his features. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, holding you in place. “Don’t move around too much.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” You giggled as he led you to your bed, but before you could settle in, a sharp wave of pain rippled through your abdomen and spine. The smile faltered on your lips as you sucked in a quick breath, instinctively leaning into him for support.
“What's wrong?” Xavier’s voice tensed with concern, his arm tightening around you as his eyes widened in alarm. His free hand hovered protectively over yours, which was clutching your swollen belly. "Is it hurting? I’ll call for—"
“No, no!” You declined amidst your labored breaths, mustering up a smile despite the discomfort. “I’ve consulted the royal physician. It’s perfectly normal for me to experience this... I just have to bear it.”
“How is this normal?” Xavier's brow furrowed with worry and sternness. “If this keeps up, how will you preserve your strength for the real labor?”
He had always detested seeing you in distress. It was evident in all his actions, from the earliest moments of your relationship to this very day, and it made your heart warm.
When the pain subsided, you made him sit on your bed and brought both your hands to cup his face, trying to coax a smile from him.
"Don't worry too much, love." You grinned, eyes crinkling. "On the bright side, it just means that our little star is thiiis close to meeting us."
Xavier found your gaze and for a moment, he stayed silent. His clear blue eyes softened as they held yours. You had always been like this—diminishing your own discomfort in favor of reassuring him, and if you thought it would make him feel better, then you were sorely wrong because his instincts to protect you were deeply engraved in him, and it only fueled his concern further.
His hands settled over yours, pressing them to his face.
“From what I’ve seen, this baby really enjoys bullying you,” he muttered sullenly.
You pursed your lips. “A friendly reminder, you’re the one who got me with child.”
“I’ve always thought that sexual act is the pinnacle of showing the depths of my undying loyalty towards you.” His tone was mock-serious, the edge of a grin tugging at his lips. “The baby is a pleasant gift, what I enjoy more though—”
Before you could protest, his fingers skimmed over your figure, landing with unmistakable familiarity on your ample breasts—
“I like these the most.”
“Xavier!” You swatted his hand away with wide eyes, crossing both arms over your chest in an attempt to block him from further groping.
He chuckled openly at how defensive you were, a playful glint in his eyes. With a soft pat on your head, he stood up and extended his right hand towards you.
“What?” You stared at his hand, almost squeaking, wary that his hands might wander to your sensitive skin again. Xavier let out another chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction.
“I’ve heard through the grapevine that Her Majesty the Queen wants me to serenade her,” he said with a teasing smile. “And as your humble servant, who am I to refuse?”
. . .
You has always adored how Xavier plays the piano.
He claimed he didn't like the instrument that much, but the way his fingers moved over the keys so effortlessly, each note flowing with such precision—it was one of the many ways he captured your heart.
You sat next to him by the grand piano, your head gently bobbing along with the beautiful rhythm he drew from the keys.
“You used to play this a lot back then,” you commented as Xavier started playing the piece he composed himself, one you often referred as ‘his very own soundtrack.’
Celestial Serenade. Xavier even had a name for it. Solemn and playful, it was the beginning that always got your heart racing. But when he reached the bridge, a gnawing sadness would creep in, tugging at your heart.
And suddenly, in that moment, you had an epiphany.
From the days you had loved him as a student in the Academy, and then as a knight and your crown prince, until that heartbreaking day when you had to let him go into the unknown— then those gruelling years of waiting for him, up until he finally came back to restore Philos, to retake his throne, and to make you his queen in the truest sense—
Tears pricked at your eyes at the flashback of everything the two of you had gone through, right after he finished the outro.
Xavier paused, his fingers still on the keys. He turned to you, but his eyes widened as he noticed the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "Why are you crying?"
"Nothing, I'm just—" Startled, you quickly wiped the tears from your face, but Xavier gently lifted your chin, his touch soft but insistent.
He was worried, his gaze searching yours as if he was struggling to find the right words, his eyes full of concern. "Tell me," he urged quietly, the hint of a tremor in his voice. "What is it? What made you cry?"
How could you explain what you had just realized— the weight of all that had brought you to this moment? The journey, the sacrifices, the love that had never faltered even in the darkest of times?
And it all culminated into one single sentence, as you stared right into those beautiful eyes of his:
“I love you, Xavier.”
In that very second, Xavier could’ve sworn his heart was entirely in your grasp. His breath caught, and the world around him seemed to fade, leaving only you—your teary-eyed confession and the raw honesty in your gaze.
Through countless dawns and twilights, through many starry sea expeditions and a daring voyage to the past— everything he had done led to this precise moment, where happiness is within your reach.
He was overwhelmed by love you gave him, it made his heart so, so full.
Xavier cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “Don't cry, you big crybaby. Save it for when we welcome our child later.”
You sniffled, frowning at him. “So, you don’t love me?”
A soft smile played on his lips as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his warmth. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder.
“Silly... I love you more than anything in this world.”
Three days later, you went into labor.
The palace descended into chaos, with attendants scurrying through the halls. But amidst all the commotion, Xavier was the one who struggled the most to maintain his composure.
Your cries from behind the doors felt like a blade slicing through his chest. He wanted nothing more than to rush in, to hold your hand, to do something—anything—but the midwives had firmly insisted that he stay out of the way.
Xavier’s mind raced with worry, his eyes fixed on the door as though sheer willpower could ease your pain. The only thing that mattered right in this moment was you and the child you were bringing into the world—and it was taking everything in him not to lose his wits.
Then, amidst his fervent prayers, hours later, a piercing cry broke through.
Xavier froze, his heart lurching. Relief and disbelief flooded him all at once as he realized—it was his baby's first cry.
But what about you?
He so desperately wanted to see you that Jeremiah had to physically restrain him. The women assured him you and the baby were being tended to.
When they finally allowed him inside, he rushed in so quickly he nearly stumbled.
There you were, seated on the bed, hair disheveled, exhaustion etched into every line of your face, yet to him, you were radiant—utterly so. His heart swelled as he watched you cradle the newborn, cooing with a tenderness that stole his breath.
“Now, say hi to Papa...”
Your voice was almost feather-like, yet it was in that moment the truth hit him with full force—his baby was really here. He stared at the tiny bundle in your arms, awestruck, before his gaze shifted to your pale face again.
And you smiled at him so brilliantly. So warmly.
“Xavier... say hello to our son.”
He felt like he was in a daze as he slowly kneeled and took the baby into his arms. The small, fragile weight felt both unfamiliar and extraordinary. This child— was a part of him, but most importantly, he was a part of you too.
The baby stirred, and when his eyes blinked open, Xavier’s breath hitched. Those tiny blue eyes, a mirror of his own, locked onto him.
“Ah, he—” Xavier faltered, his chest tightening as emotions overwhelmed him. Holding his son, seeing him so clearly now, felt like an arrow straight to his heart. Before this moment, he hadn’t thought much about how the baby might look. But now, he couldn’t help marveling at the sight. The little one had his hair and eyes, yet your delicate nose and soft, heart-shaped lips.
In that instant, all his doubts and fears melted away like snow under the sun, replaced by a feeling so intense, so overflowing, it brought a lump to his throat and tears in his eyes.
This was love—raw and undeniable. A love he never knew he could feel so deeply, now cradled in his arms.
And also in you.
As his gaze found yours again, Xavier made a vow—to every god and deity that might be listening, that no matter where his life led him, no matter how cruel fate might twist his path, if it meant getting even a glimpse of this unparalleled happiness with you, then—
He would endure it all. Every storm, every trial. For you, for the love you shared, and now for the tiny life in his arms. And if you were ever separated again—
No matter how, no matter how many times, through all means, he will definitely find you, always.
#xavier x reader#lads xavier x reader#love and deepspace x reader#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#love and deepspace x you#xavier x you#xavier x mc#lads x you#lads smut#love and deepspace xavier#lads xavier#xavier love and deepspace#lads x reader fluff#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace#lads#love and deepspace scenarios#love and deepspace fluff
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i’m drooling at ur older bf price (not much else to say except when/if u ever have more thots abt him please share 🙏)
previous
You curl in on yourself after sex, sometimes. It’s a pattern Price has noticed—you’ll finish, then he will, and in the humid moments after, the shutters in your eyes will close. You won’t meet his gaze.
He’s only asked once about it, and it had been so clear that the question disturbed you that he hadn’t pressed. You’d tell him, he reasoned, when you were ready—
(And he could nudge you in that direction in the meanwhile.)
The sink is put back together, cabinet door closed. Your sundress is wrapped and twisted around your midsection, naked breasts wet with his saliva and compressed against his chest as you lay panting on top of him. His shirt is in some far-off corner, thrown aside, and his jeans are around his knees.
“That was nice,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your hair. He makes a home for his fingertips between your shoulder blades, walking the trail of your spine, up and down, slow as a tide.
“Mm-hm,” you say, out at sea. Far away.
He can’t deny that it disappoints him. But it isn’t about him, and he shouldn’t make it so. Even if it is about him, it isn’t actually about him—it’s about something else that has attached itself to him. Things are like that more often than not—deeper, older problems with hooks, the barbed kind that sink in and cling and won’t come out of their own accord.
So he keeps kissing your hair, and he keeps stroking your back. His softened cock hasn’t slipped from you yet, and he makes no move to dislodge it. You nestle closer to him; shift your body over his, a little, just for the feeling of it. He waits for the sigh—the long, steady breath you take after the act, after you’ve found yourself again in wherever it is you go after moments like this.
“This is probably weird to talk about after sex,” you say, and Price’s ears perk up.
“Nothing weird between us, dove,” he encourages. “What’s on your mind?”
You play with his chest hair a little, twirling it around with the manicured ends of your nails. (A manicure he happily paid for.)
“You’re the first man who’s ever given a damn about me,” you mumble into his neck.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says honestly. He kisses you again, because he wants to, and because he wants it to comfort you.
“You don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to do stuff on my own,” you continue. “My step—my mom’s husband. He used to make fun of me for, for getting confused about changing my car’s oil. Or he’d get annoyed at me. Or I’d need him to change my tires because I can’t do it on my own, and I’d call him for help, and he wouldn’t pick up the phone.”
“He sounds like a piece of work,” Price comments.
A younger version of himself would have offered to beat the shit out of the asshole. That self’s anger on your behalf sits radioactive in his chest even now—corrosive, roiling, righteous fury, ready to carve your name on whatever offal is left over after Price gets through with him.
But that would be for his own ego, not for you. That has no place here.
“Do you know—” and your voice breaks a little, “do you know how bad it feels when a man who’s supposed to look out for you treats you like you’re an idiot? Like you’re not smart enough to be worth helping?”
“Some,” he says. “It’s an awful feeling. I wish you didn’t know how it felt, dove. I’m sorry.”
He feels something warm and wet drip onto his chest, and your shoulders begin to shake.
It’s not the full-body, wracking cry of catharsis. Just an episode of something longer, something tired. A problem dealt with, over and over again—a wound that reopens sometimes, if it’s pulled the wrong way.
Price gathers you closer, wraps his arms around you tighter. He cups the back of your neck with one hand and murmurs “shhh” into your hair, soothing and quiet, squeezing you against him.
“I’m okay,” you say, a little watery. “Really, I am.”
“I know you are,” he says.
He tilts your face toward his, and kisses the center of your forehead. You meet his eyes with your own, wide and glistening with your tears.
“I’m always gonna help you, dove,” he promises, catching one that falls with the edge of his thumb. “And you can always ask.”
-
No I don’t have daddy issues why do you ask
#answered#price x reader#price x you#price x y/n#captain john price#john price#price smut#john price x reader#john price x you#mwritesprice#madi writes#one more of these and I’ll have to make a master list
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hi rue .. i’m kinda shy to ask this but can you please do a small drabble of the reader and touya arguing (not quite intense) & touya keeps replying with “no maam” or “yes maam” every time the reader asks questions 💔💔
🚬 oh i could kiss you rn. mhm. thank you sweet anon i stayed up at 2am writing this heh
fratboy touya get out of my heaaddddd
yes ma'am // touya todoroki
the puddles beneath your feet splash against your bare calves with every step.
"for fuck's sake, stop walking so fast." touya's voice calls out from behind you as you turn the corner of the street. the heavy bass of the house party you ran out of slowly drowned into nothing as the rain hit your body.
it was nearly 12am, and the downpour was only getting stronger. your fingers shook as you pathetically rubbed the sides of your arms, hoping to muster up some heat from the friction.
touya reaches out and grabs you by the shoulder, pulling you back towards him.
"you seriously mad at me? after i just poured my heart out for you?" he half-chuckles. "c'mon now sweetheart, at least reject me to my face."
"poured your heart out?" you scoff, forcibly facing him. "what kind of a fucking confession involves punching a random guy in the teeth?"
"that dumbass had it coming to him with or without the confession." he rolls his eyes.
"touya." you shake his hand off of your shoulder. "you can't go around starting fights just because you can't use your words."
"didn't i, though? made it very clear you were off limits." he shrugs, a hint of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
you glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest as you let a silence fall over you with the droning of the rain.
touya brings a hand up to push his soaked hair back from falling into his eyes. he blows out a breath of air in defeat.
"i'm sorry, okay? don't be upset."
you take a step forward, leaning in just mere inches from his face. touya bites back a smirk as his cheeks grow hot from the proximity.
"you will go back inside and apologize."
his eyes follow the rain droplets trailing down to your lips.
"yes ma'am."
"you will find me some dry clothes."
his gaze continues to follow down the soaked t-shirt clinging to every curve of your body.
"yes ma'am."
"you will take me home."
touya licks his lips, letting the cold water on his lips grow hot against his tongue.
"yes ma'am."
you step back, watching his eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, counting all of the droplets that slip from your chin and eyelashes.
"are you listening to me?" your face grows hot.
"mhm. yes ma'am."
"and when we get back my apartment, you're going to properly use your fucking words and tell me how you feel. okay?"
touya reaches his hand up to tuck a stray soaked strand of hair behind your ear, letting his thumb graze against the side of your jaw.
"yes ma'am." he slowly nods his head, knowing that the moment he's alone with you, he'll be using more than his words.
-
touya tags: @kaldurahms-lover @moonchild701 @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 @ggriwm @moonlitmorganite @bitchyfestivalbouquet @touyas-wife
#me an wh-GUNSHOTS GUNSHOTS GUNSHOTS#yeah this was fun#not rlly proofread sawwy#mha#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha x reader#mha x reader#dabi#touya todoroki#dabi x reader#dabi mha#touya x reader#touya todoroki x reader#toya todoroki#todoroki touya x reader
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bakugou’s never been happier to do this alongside you.
The sound of Bakugou’s ringtone—specifically one for those calls—the kind that only came when villains decided to cause trouble at ungodly hours—jolted him awake on the second ring. The kind that meant neither of you were getting any more sleep.
He groaned loudly, his voice raspy from sleep. “Son of a—” He didn’t even finish the curse as he snatched his phone and squinted at the glowing screen. “What the hell is it this time?”
Beside him, you stirred, mumbling groggily as you pulled the blanket over your head. “Is it another one?” you asked sleepily, your voice muffled.
Bakugou ignored you for the moment, his phone pressed to his ear as the barking voice of the dispatcher filled the room. His brows furrowed deeper, his scowl turning deadly as he listened to the report. “Villains in the old district? At this hour? Those bastards don’t sleep or somethin’? Yeah, yeah—I got it. We’ll be there.”
He slammed the phone down on the bed, letting out a deep sigh as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Goddamn it. I hate this stupid job.”
You let out a small laugh beneath the blanket. “Liar.”
Bakugou glared at the lump of fabric that was you—his partner. “What’d you just say?”
“You heard me,” you teased, peeking out just enough for him to see the drowsy smile on your face—which can barely be seen with the dim light of the moonlight outside the bedroom window. “You love this job, Kats. You’d combust without it.”
“Like hell I would,” he muttered, standing up and running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m only outta bed ‘cause I don’t trust those extras not to screw up.”
“You’re up because you want to. Big difference.”
“Whatever.” Bakugou shot you a glance over his shoulder. “Hurry your ass up. Don’t got time for you to sit there all cozy like we ain’t got villains to blow up.”
You didn’t budge.
“Give me two minutes. I just need to—hey!”
Bakugou had moved without warning, stomping back to the bed and scooping you up in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised squeak as he effortlessly picked you up, blanket and all, and cradled you against his chest.
“Katsuki!” you protested, trying to wriggle free. “What are you doing?!”
“Shut up,” he grumbled, barely sparing you a glance as he carried you toward the door. “You’re slow as hell when you’re tired. This’ll save time.”
“You can’t just carry me every time we get called in!”
“Watch me.”
He stomped down the hallway, his bare feet thudding against the wooden floor, while his voice dipped into a string of curses. “Stupid villains. Stupid middle-of-the-night calls. Stupid hero work. I’m gonna blast whoever’s causing this into the next century.”
You couldn’t hold back your laughter now, your head falling back against his shoulder. “You sound like a cranky old man.”
“Keep talkin’ and I’m droppin’ you,” Bakugou threatened. “Why the hell are you laughin’? Think this is funny?”
“Very. You’re like my happy pill.”
“Yeah? And you’re heavy,” he grumbled, though the way he carried you effortlessly said otherwise.
“Excuse me?!”
A corner of Bakugou’s mouth quirked up as he looked down at you, amusement flickering in his eyes despite his perpetual scowl. “I didn’t say nothin’. Quit wastin’ time.”
You smiled against his shoulder, listening to him grumble about this whole ordeal. He sounded pissed—like the world had wronged him personally by waking you two up—but you could see the truth in his actions. His grip was steady, his movements careful as he carried you to where your hero gear was waiting. It was such a Bakugou thing to do: grumble and complain, but still take care of you without hesitation.
By the time you make it to the gear room, Bakugou carefully sets you down on your feet. You wobbled slightly from the sudden shift, and Bakugou’s hand instinctively shot out to steady you.
“Oi, don’t fall on me now.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes before turning to grab your hero suit. “You’re way too grumpy for someone who just carried me all the way here. Admit it—you love being a hero.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“You do, though,” you teased, already halfway into your gear. “I know you do.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue, but he didn’t argue. Instead, his voice softened just enough to make you pause. “I wouldn’t do this job if it meant leavin’ you to deal with shit alone.”
You stilled, looking at him from the corner of your eye. He was standing by the doorway now, fully suited up and waiting for you, his face set in his usual determined scowl. But something about the way he looked at you, about the small, unspoken truths in his words, made your chest feel warm.
“Y’know, you’re so sweet to me at the most inconvenient times. Why can’t you say things like that when I don’t look like I’ve been ran over by a truck because I’m sleep deprived?”
“Die.”
“Is that your way of saying you love me too, Ka-tsu-ki?”
He scoffed. “Hurry up, dumbass. We’ve got work to do.”
“Ha! You didn’t deny it, so I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Shut up, you’re annonyin’.”
You smiled faintly, finishing the last of your preparations before walking over to him. “But you love me.”
“Of fucking course,” Bakugou said, opening the door and stepping out into the brisk night air. “Let’s go. Those idiots could only hold out for so long ‘cause they really had to call us in.”
You followed close behind, still smiling to yourself as you fell into step next to him. Despite his grumbles, despite the curses under his breath, Bakugou had never been happier. Because at the end of the day, no matter how ungodly the hour, you were always there—and as far as he was concerned, nothing else mattered.
Because he loves this job—especially when he’s doing it alongside you.
SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou drabble#bakugou fluff#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo drabble#bakugo fluff#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha drabbles#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha drabble#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou
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going down on a dork || aeri uchinaga
synopsis : giselle, a camgirl, decides to make a dork a special guest on her page.
pairing : camgirl!giselle x bicurious!femreader
genre : smut
tags : cunnilingus, lots of it i think, mentions of fingering, mentions of hetero sex? sorry LMFAO, fem reader is implied to be bicurious, kissing, making out, giselle records this shit on her old gen macbook, we love an aesthetic queen, anyways yeah lesbian sex that’s about it really
word count : 1.9k
a/n : 4am… I TOLD YALL I COULD DO IT!😭😭but yeah uhm here you gooo i kinda don’t really care about it..? like yeah i wrote this butjfrjjf that’s about it… not one of my bests! like honestly this was not worth the wait i made y’all go throughfjdmdn I’M SORRY🙏but yeah erm i’ll proofread tomorrow cause rn i’m fighting demons to not close my eyesss gootnight love y’all or whateva
btw sorry for the thing at the end LMFAOAO i got the idea and just had to, i sincerely apologize
“alright.”
the familiar girl, known online as giselle, backed away from the macbook, grin on her face, and sat back down on the bed with another person, eyeing them excitedly.
“alright.” repeated the other girl, fidgeting with her hands nervously as she sat up, before adding on, “c-can they see me?” earning laughter from the content creator before her.
“oh they’ll definitely see you, just not your face, obviously.”
the stranger, labeled as the dork in the title of the video, seemed to be somewhat relieved by those words and allowed herself to relax more, leaning back onto the comfy bed and putting all of her weight onto the back of her arms. by getting comfortable, her neck now came into frame, her hair length became visible.
“so,” giselle spoke softly, her eyes switching back and forth between fixing on the girl’s eyes and lips, that is, with a playful grin. “you excited?”
that earned a nervous giggle from said girl, “honestly? not even sure what i agreed to do.”
truth is, this was a recurring thing for the camgirl, and it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t known on campus for that exact reason, especially by a particular subgroup of girls; she, a lesbian, spends her freetime interesting other women, whether they’re bicurious or simply just bored, into having (mostly oral) sex with her, whilst also being consensually recorded in the act so she can diffuse it online, later on. that was her whole internet thing, among the more solo-esque type of content she put out every now and then.
she gave a respective codename to each girl, as to make sure they stay completely anonymous whilst also giving them a tiny description, something for the viewers to go off of. multiple examples of those immediately come to mind; cheerleader, mom, hell, one of them is even straight up called woman in stem.
now, she had great amounts of fun with all of them, obviously, and all of those one-time occurrences contributed in making her a couple of bucks due to the number of views, nothing to complain about. but in all honesty, they were all just girls at the end of the day. this girl? she couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was, but there was something about her, something that exhilarated giselle.
she knew she was gonna have a lot more fun with this dork, and it definitely showed through her giddy-like expression when she spoke to her, she was by far the most entertaining one she’s ever had to partake with, and she hadn’t even done anything to her yet.
yet.
despite the under-average quality of the macbook giselle always filmed her videos with, anybody could guess that due to the setting, the initial rendezvous was a cozy study session, with nothing but the slight yet bright daytime sunshine breaking into the room through the mostly curtain-covered windows.
the title foreshadowed it all, however, and all it took were those uncertain words to make giselle want to turn that short conversation, this whole hangout, into something else, something more. she crawled closer and pressed her lips against the dork’s. the kiss was slow and gentle, as well as being the only thing audible in the silent room at that moment.
she pulled away from the first contact, then softly spoke out a “you’ll figure it out eventually.” loud enough that the shitty microphone picked it up, before leaning back in again, this time in a comfier position as to properly straddle the nervous girl that was under her.
to the latter’s own surprise, she returned the kiss that was placed on her lips; it was clear she would’ve wanted to do more than just sit there and take it, easier said than done. she wished to actually allow her own hands to explore giselle on a deeper, more personal level, essentially getting accustomed to the feeling of having her body in this close of a proximity to hers, but alas, that wasn’t going to happen for a while, especially since that would officially mark the day that she’s ever touched another girl in such a suggestive manner. the laptop camera recording their every move just further added onto the feeling.
giselle knew that, though, the nervousness that radiated from the girl she intertwined her lips with was so thick in the air that she could practically touch it if she tried. “come on, pretty girl, relax.” she whispered to the girl in between kisses. it obviously didn’t take long after that for the kiss to get hungrier and more heated, which eventually resulted in having her slowly slide down to the dork’s neck, now dragging her lips across and planting messy kisses there, as well as leaving gentle suckles and nibbles. “it’s just you and me.” she added, her hot breath on the girl’s skin.
if giselle were asked to describe that day in full detail, she’d spend at least ten whole minutes gushing and rambling about how fucking good that girl smelled.
the latter seemingly let go and eventually left all of the work to the more experienced woman, taking in all of what was being put on her, slowly learning to ride on the waves of intimacy. soon enough, a content giselle slowly ran her hand up the girl’s graphic tee and reached for the back of her bra, attempting to unhook it with one hand.
which, she successfully did, by the way; muscle memory always came in handy in instances like these.
much to the other girl’s disappointment, giselle pulled away from her attention-deprived neck, breathing heavily as she looked down at the already somewhat visible markings, admiring her work. “do you have a boyfriend?”
confusion now occupied the majority of the dork’s fuzzy mind, “n-no..” she replied, still shaken up by the mere, previous things the pink haired woman had done to her already, “i wouldn’t be doing this if i did.”
giselle smiled, amused by that answer, eyes hooded with nothing but intent and lust as she stared, “then, are you talking to anybody?”
“well…” responded the other reluctantly, now thinking more carefully as to figure out what exactly to call the strange relationship she held with the boy whose face popped up in her mind. “i-i guess you could say that.”
giselle traced circles around the nervous girl’s stomach, hand slipped under that tee, with her black and white acrylic nails, feline-like gaze still fixed on her lips. “when was the last time you saw him?”
“..yesterday.”
“yeah?” she asked for confirmation, slightly tilting her head in query before subtly leaning closer, “tell me about it.”
“well,” started the girl, looking away as her hands found and held onto anything, her fingers fidgeting some more and playing with the bedsheets she was laying on, twisting, pulling, keeping her muscles busy. she felt like she had to use her entire brain power to recall the elements of the past evening and properly form them into words. she had barely succeeded, “h-he asked if he could come over, i said yes, obviously, and we… uhm—”
thrown off by the sudden movement of hands slowly pulling down her sweatpants, she went silent and turned back to the girl in front of her as she tried to compose her untamed thoughts.
“you..?”
“right.” visibly distracted by the risky contact, the girl further struggled to speak, “w-we.. uh, we had sex.”
giselle smiled knowingly, “well no shit, genius.”
giggling as she now had completely taken off the sweatpants of the person laying before her, she continued, “i meant in detail; i wanna know everything.”
“oh.” sighed out the girl, both in relief of finally feeling giselle’s hands on her deprived skin again and in thought.
the pink haired chuckled, clearly excited.
this was exciting, both for the viewers and the two parties involved.
the video cut to a more intense scene, the somewhat awkward tension having evaporated into the air and leaving more space for hunger, and desire.
“m-mmh—“
with a long, slow and almost painful swipe of the tongue, giselle managed to completely obliterate the girl’s train of thought yet again, leaving her a whimpering mess. the taste of her slick coating the entire surface of her tongue.
“just from one lick? fuck..” she lowly whispered into her cunt, practically to herself, slowly panting into it like a hyperactive dog would. she carefully spread the slightly swollen, moist with slick lips as she stared. it was so pretty, all exposed, wet and vulnerable for her.
she made her feel this way.
and because of it, she couldn’t help but want to give it another taste.
“come on, keep telling.” she reminded the girl with a smirk, who happened to have covered her mouth with the back of her hand, “i’m dying to know more, you know?”
that’s when she fully leaned into said girl’s core, tongue first; leaving gentle kisses and suckles all around the very clearly aroused bundle of nerves before going to town. it was hard to see the details, but it definitely wasn’t hard to hear them and what was going.
every wet sound, every kiss, every lick, every suckle, every noise that forced itself out of giselle’s throat; all of it was audible.
“h-he ate me out...” softly moaned the girl, now practically biting on her hand to muffle as much noise as she could. this was a college dorm, after all. “he had his lips around my clit a-and his fingers curling inside of me and— fuck.”
giselle was visibly smiling against the girl’s core before pulling away for a quick moment, “if it weren’t for my nails, i would’ve fingered you as soon as you laid on this bed, baby girl.”
giselle would never do that for any of the other girls, her videos consisted of cunnilingus and cunnilingus only.
perhaps the dork was one of a kind?
“i know..” she responded hazily, her voice hoarse and shaky, “you w-would’ve done it better than him.”
“that’s right.” that earned a smile from the pink haired, a prideful and cocky one, “you know me so well, don’t you?”
“mhm.” she said, letting out a whine as she nodded in response to feeling the camgirl’s mouth on her. her body slightly jolted with each contact, the way giselle’s tongue maneuvered around her fragile flower, experience radiating through her movements and eye contact, even through the way she held onto her thighs.
the girl kept telling, eventually even recalling describing every detail about how the boy fucked her. that, despite being fucked out of her right mind and forgetting how to form words properly.
all of those events were enough to drive the girl closer to the edge after a while.
“ae—“ she stopped mid-sentence and quickly corrected herself, “—giselle i’m about to c-cum..”
the camgirl kept doing what she did best, if not more intensely than previously. she needed to see that pretty girl cum her brains out all over her mouth. she was gonna make her numerous times if she was presented the opportunity.
giselle needed to see how even prettier the girl looked when she came.
the orgasm itself hit her like a truck, a loud one at that. she had unconsciously grabbed a fistful of giselle’s hair and pushed her head closer to her pussy, grinding on her and riding out her excess of dopamine.
the girl eventually let go, and the video ended after the camgirl pulled away and sat back up, staring at the girl. both of them looking at each other and giggling together, giselle’s dimples more prominent than ever.
maybe they giggled from nervousness? maybe it was from excitement?
one thing was for sure, though, giselle was quick to book an appointment with her nail tech as soon as she could.
#smut#female reader#kpop gg#aespa smut#giselle x female reader#giselle x reader#giselle aespa smut#aespa giselle smut#giselle smut#aespa giselle x reader#aeri uchinaga smut#aeri uchinaga#uchinaga aeri x reader#giselle x fem reader
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# BATBOYS WITH A SUNSHINE!READER ── .✦ ( basically batboys with a optimistic reader )
a/n: this was requested by anon (here) but anywayss i think I’m gonna do the world tour thing after my winter inspired fics/hcs end on like February 28th! (Dw i’ll still do the world tour thingy in between) but yahh also I desperately need writer mutals + mutals I mssg daily like I’m a very kind person idm if you dm me at like 4 AM, tags: (batboys x fem!reader)
© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
Absolutely smitten. Your optimism is like a magnet for Dick, who thrives on positivity.
He calls you his “little ray of sunshine” (even if you roll your eyes at the nickname).
If he’s feeling down, your relentless optimism is a game changer. “How do you do that? How do you make the world seem so… bright all the time?”
Constantly teases you, especially if you’re being overly cheerful during random moments. “Are you seriously smiling right now? We’re getting ready to head to bed!”
But secretly, he loves it. Your energy balances his occasional doubts && insecurities. (he lovesss positive people who live in their own world)
Dick starts picking up on your habits leaving little notes of encouragement, giving random compliments to strangers and realizes how much better it makes his day.
JASON TODD ── .✦
At first, he’s skeptical. He’s not used to someone so genuinely cheerful, and he might think you’re putting on an act.
“How are you this happy all the time? What’s your secret? Coffee? Dark magic?”, “I just like seeing the world differently, I’m a poet in my mind.”
But over time, he warms up to your positivity and even craves it (to a point he gets sad if you aren’t around for more than 4 hours). You’re the light that cuts through his darker moments and more sulking personality.
“I don’t know how you do it, but you make me feel like the world’s not completely screwed.”, “what did you say?-“, “Nothing go back to sleep.”
He pretends to be annoyed when you try to cheer him up after a rough day, but he secretly loves when you coax a laugh out of him.
Jason starts jokingly calling you his “emotional support sunshine.” He’ll tell Roy, “Yeah, they’re like my personal antidepressant.”
Will protect your positivity at all costs. If anyone tries to dim your light, they’ll have to deal with him.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
Finds your optimism so refreshing. Tim can be a little too caught up in stress and overthinking, so your energy is like a breath of fresh air.
He’s constantly asking, “How are you so happy all the time? Teach me your ways.”
If you leave him little notes of encouragement, he’ll treasure them forever. He has a drawer full of them and pulls one out whenever he’s having a bad day.
Sometimes, your cheerfulness makes him feel a little guilty. “You’re so good, and here I am being a grump.” But you always remind him it’s okay to have bad days.
Tim loves how you bring optimism even to his most chaotic moments. “Yeah, sure, we’re being late, but hey, at least it’s not raining, right?”
He’d be a little overwhelmed by your energy at times, but he admires you deeply for seeing the good in everything.
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
Damian does not know what to do with you at first. Your cheerfulness is a complete mystery to him.
“Why are you smiling? We are surrounded by incompetence.”
He pretends to be annoyed, but deep down, he finds your positivity oddly comforting.
Over time, he starts looking forward to your optimistic take on things. “Yes, fine, maybe there is a silver lining. Stop gloating.”
You have a knack for breaking through his tough exterior. If he’s grumpy, you’ll say something so genuinely kind that he can’t help but soften.
Damian secretly loves how you see the good in him, even when he doesn’t see it himself.
He starts to mimic your habits, like giving Alfred small compliments or trying to look on the bright side, but he’ll deny it if you call him out.
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
Bruce admires your positivity but doesn’t always understand it. “How do you manage to stay so cheerful in Gotham of all places?”
At first, he worries your optimism will make you naive, but he quickly realizes it’s your strength.
Your energy is a stark contrast to his brooding nature, and he starts leaning on it more than he cares to admit.
When he’s stuck in his head or doubting himself, you always know what to say to pull him out of it.
“You make it sound so simple,” he says after you give him one of your pep talks. But he smiles because somehow, you do make it simple.
You bring a sense of warmth and nostalgia into the Wayne Manor. Bruce finds himself more relaxed when you’re around, even in the middle of chaos.
He’ll never admit it to the others, but your optimism is one of his favorite things about you.
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#batboys#dc#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson#red hood#red hood x reader#nightwing#nightwing x reader#nightwing headcanon#bruce wayne x reader#tim drake x reader#tim drake#damian wayne x reader#damian al ghul x reader#damian wayne#nightwing imagine#jason todd headcanon#tim drake imagine#tim drake headcanon#red robin x reader#red hood imagine#red robin headcanon#red hood headcanon#batman#batman x reader#batboys x reader#red robin#dick grayson imagine
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Promethean
fuckboy!Soap x Shy!Reader x Ghost (college!au) p.2
Uhh warning soap isn’t in this chapter and reader isn’t acting very shy rn lol
Simon managed to drag you, shocked and still on shaky legs, into his surprisingly clean car and across town to a little cafe. The guy with eye bags behind the counter starts making his order as soon as he comes in the door— must be a regular.
At the counter he points to a couple of items in the display case, before prompting you— you stutter out your go-to, and Simon whips out a beat-up debit card before you can think to pull out your wallet.
The largest size of earl grey almost looks normal in his large hand, a plate of pastries in his other mitt. You grab your own drink and follow where he tilts his head in gesture.
When you sit, he pushes the plate towards you. Like he’s dropping a fresh kill at your doorstep—a courting gift. Eat. Be provided for, sensitive doe. You pick up a danish, if only to ease the clench of his fist on the table. He pulls the black surgical mask down to sip his tea in a way that’s almost hilariously delicate given his permanent scowl.
You couldn’t have sat in silence for more than 10 minutes. But it feels like a lot longer.
“Simon. What are we doing here?” You probe quietly. Saying his name when you’ve never actually been introduced to each other feels wrong. Like you’ve stolen a piece of him that he hasn’t given freely.
“He never takes you out,” he grunts. As if that explains anything.
“It’s not… what we have isn’t like that.”
——
Simon chews on your overly diplomatic response for a minute. That’s what it must be, chewing— why else would he grind his teeth together when his tongue is still wet with his favorite soothing beverage?
You’re kind. Kinder than the mutt deserves.
“But you want it to be.” He says it with an almost biblical level of finality. Your pastry making the plate clink against the table as you drop it back down.
“What would you know about what I want?”
“You’re an easy read. S’how y’got yourself in this situation. Soap’s not exactly a rocket scientist when it comes to chattin’ up birds, you’re jus’ an open book.”
Simon shamelessly stares at your lips as they quirk in anger— so unused to vitriol. It’s gorgeous.
“So he’s using me. I know. Is that what this was about? Taking me on a pity date to let me down gently? Or did you just wanna see if you could have a go as well?”
Seeing you like this. It’s something else. He’s seen you mope around so many times, silently begging for crumbs that will never be tossed your way. It’s even harder to pull his gaze from you, now that you’re hissing. He wants to dig his teeth into your heart shoulder and rip out the bruise Johnny left you with.
Soap is his best friend.
“He’s a dickhead. You don’t need him. You’ll find something better.”
Simon has never been what he would call “something better”. Not in any sense. But this might be the first time he’s wanted to be.
“I won’t,” you say with the lower half of your face hidden by the sipping of your drink. As if it’s quenched your fire, and all that leaves you is vapor. “I’m not… the type.”
He gets it. Really, he does. He’s not the type either— or so he’s thought. You’re making him wonder if he’s imagined that about himself— the same way you’ve clearly imagined it about yourself.
“What’s the rest of your day look like?”
“…Nothing set in stone.” The not that it’s any of your fucking business goes unspoken, but is plain to see in the air between you.
“Lemme take you around. On a date. Be mine for today. If y’hate it, I’ll drop you back at yours and the next time you come round, I’ll mind my business and keep the door closed.” Well, that’s the most you’ve ever heard him say in one go. And it begs a question.
“What happens if I like it? You’ll fuck me in a different room of the same frat house?” Your unimpressed look makes him feel ravenous. She-wolf is threatening to turn her eyes from the display. Rejection. Not an option. “Or maybe you’ll ask me to go steady,” you huff under your breath like it’s a bad joke.
“If y’like it, then you’ll stay mine, and y’won’t fuckin’ want for anything. You’re supposed to be worshipped, not begging for scraps at a mutt’s door.”
He really didn’t mean to say it like that. He meant to bite his tongue. He’s trying not to think of how hot it would be if his intensity scared you into pissing yourself. He’s trying not to let himself show through the lines. It’s not working. Any of it.
The venomous bile that spills from behind his teeth reminds him that his eloquence is just one of many reasons why he’s single. Why he should be muzzled instead of kept. He doesn’t know why he’s taking it upon himself to do this. Selfishness, maybe. There’s plenty of better men he could’ve put up to the task, easy. The man who wants to feel blood on the back of his throat makes a terrible savior.
He feels like he can see your pupils dilate. You pick up your danish again and take a bite. You hold it out for him to try. It’s a test. You don’t think someone with eyes like his can handle doing cutesy, saccharine things. Like what couples do. That must be it.
He tries not to think of his teeth going past the flakey flesh of the pastry and sinking into your fingers. When his tongue meets the butter between the layers, he tries not to think of the salt sweet flavor of your sweat and tears. A seed from the blackberry jam gets thoughtlessly crushed between his molars— he hopes the bitterness will suddenly wake him up and he won’t be a beast crying for love at the heart of the world anymore.
It doesn’t.
#uhhhhhhhhh something happened to me at the end there sorry#I went a little crazy style#writing#cod fanfic#cod#college au#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#Promethean
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young f1 driver who is very closed off and while she got close to the grid she is still very closed off with her personal life and they don’t know much about her…. ollie comes for a race he fills in or it watch her and the grid suddenly sees her smiling and laughing and touching ollie and like ohh
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 🤍
The Ollie effect
The Red Bull garage buzzed with its usual pre-race energy. Yn, at just 18 years old, was the youngest driver on the Formula 1 grid. Her ascension had been nothing short of meteoric. She was a prodigy, a natural talent in the car, but a bit of an enigma outside of it.
The grid knew her as reserved and quiet. Yn was friendly and always happy to hang out, but there was a wall no one had managed to climb. She was the one listening intently to stories, smirking at their jokes, but never really sharing much herself. The grid had long accepted it; Yn was just like that.
---
It was the morning of the Monaco GP when Yn strolled into the paddock, her cap pulled low over her face.
“Yn! Morning!” Lando called out as she walked by McLaren’s hospitality. She raised a hand in greeting, her small smile fleeting before she disappeared into Red Bull’s motorhome.
“She’s always like that,” Charles said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Cool, but mysterious.”
“Have any of you ever seen her properly smile?” Pierre teased, taking a sip of his coffee.
“She does smile, you know,” George defended, earning skeptical looks.
“Not with us.” Carlos leaned back in his chair. “She’s always listening, never talking. Like a spy gathering intel.”
---
Later, the drivers gathered in the lounge for the usual pre-race banter. Yn was there too, perched on a chair in the corner, her headphones around her neck, fiddling with her phone.
“Alright, Yn,” Daniel started with his signature grin, “you’re in Monaco now. You gotta give us something. A secret. A story. Anything!”
She smirked, rolling her eyes. “Nice try, Ricciardo.”
“Come on!” Lando chimed in. “We share everything, and you’re like a closed book. Spill something!”
Yn shrugged, nonchalant as ever. “I like listening to your stories.”
“See?” Charles groaned. “Impossible.”
---
The morning passed, and the buzz around the paddock shifted as news broke: Ollie, a promising young driver from F2, was set to fill in for another team this weekend. It wasn’t unusual for reserve drivers to step in, but what caught everyone’s attention was Yn’s reaction.
She was standing by her car, chatting with her engineer, when Ollie walked into the garage. Yn’s entire demeanor shifted. Her face lit up with a smile so genuine and rare that her team did a double take.
“Ollie!” she called out, jogging over to him.
“Yn!” Ollie opened his arms as Yn practically launched into a hug. The pair laughed as they pulled apart, talking animatedly.
From the adjacent garage, Carlos nudged Charles. “Did you just see that?”
“Was that… Yn smiling?”
---
Throughout the day, the dynamic between Yn and Ollie was impossible to ignore. The two were inseparable, chatting, laughing, and even sharing little nudges and touches. It was a stark contrast to the usually reserved Yn everyone was accustomed to.
During lunch, the drivers couldn’t hold back their curiosity.
“So,” Lando began, leaning across the table, “you and Ollie, huh?”
Yn looked up from her plate, confused. “What about us?”
“That!” Pierre pointed. “The smiling, the touching, the actual talking.”
“What?” Yn frowned, her cheeks reddening slightly.
“You’re different with him,” Charles said bluntly. “You’re never like this with us."
Ollie, who had just joined them, plopped down next to Yn. “What’s going on?”
“Apparently, I’m different with you,” Yn said, her voice laced with sarcasm.
“Well, you are,” George said. “Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s just… surprising.”
Ollie laughed. “That’s because I’ve known Yn forever. She can’t hide from me.”
“Oh, really?” Daniel leaned forward. “Care to elaborate?”
Yn sighed, but there was a small smile on her lips. “We grew up together. Our families are close. He’s practically my best friend.”
“Practically?” Lando raised an eyebrow.
“Shut up, Norris,” Yn said, but the way she nudged Ollie with her shoulder gave it away.
---
For the rest of the weekend, the drivers watched as Yn continued to let her guard down around Ollie. It was clear he brought out a side of her none of them had seen before.
On race day, Yn was back to her focused, determined self, but between sessions, she could be found joking around with Ollie, her laughter echoing through the paddock.
“You know,” Carlos mused as they watched Yn and Ollie from afar, “I think we’ve been replaced.”
“By one guy?” Pierre scoffed. “Unacceptable.”
---
After the race, they finally cornered Yn in the lounge.
“Alright,” Daniel said, crossing his arms. “Spill. What’s the deal with Ollie?”
Yn sighed dramatically. “He’s a friend. A really old friend. Happy?”
“Not even close,” Lando said. “We need details.”
“It’s not that deep,” Yn said, but there was a softness in her eyes. “He’s just someone I’ve always trusted. That’s all.”
“Translation: He’s her favorite,” Charles teased.
“Shut up,” Yn muttered, but her smile gave her away.
---
For the first time, the grid saw a different side of Yn—a girl who could let her walls down and just be herself. It was a glimpse into the hidden chapters of her life, and while they still had a lot of questions, they were content to wait.
“She’s finally human,” Pierre joked as Yn and Ollie walked by, deep in conversation.
“Hey!” Yn called back, flipping them off with a grin.
And just like that, Yn wasn’t so much of a mystery anymore.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#xoxo babygirl 💋#ollie bearman x reader#charles leclerc x reader#george russell x reader#carlos sainz x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader
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A thin line between love and hate || LN4
landonorris x fewtrell!reader
enemies to lovers, brother’s best friend
Summary: Through your brother’s friendship with Lando Norris, your families have been interwined for as long as you can remember. Seven years had passed since you last saw your brother’s best friend, and you were thankful because he really was one huge pain in the ass. But now your families decided to go on vacation together, where the tension between the two of you shifts
Part 1
1.1k words
masterlist
Part 2
The days at the villa drifted by in a blur of sun-soaked mornings and leisurely afternoons. Despite the picturesque surroundings, there was no escaping Lando. It seemed as though everywhere you went, he was there—ready with a smirk, a taunt, or some infuriatingly charming quip.
At the beach, you were determined to enjoy the soft sand and glistening waves, but Lando’s presence loomed.
“You ever even touched a volleyball, Bambi?” he called out, twirling the ball on his fingertip as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
“I don’t need lessons from you,” you shot back, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand.
“Oh, come on,” he teased, jogging over to you, his hair a mess of curls from the salty sea breeze. “I’ll go easy on you.”
“I doubt that,” you muttered.
Before you could protest further, he was standing beside you, closer than necessary, holding the ball out. “Just a quick tutorial. What’s the worst that could happen?”
You took the ball begrudgingly, ignoring the amused glances from Max, who lounged nearby under a sun umbrella, Pietra in his arms.
It didn’t take long for your “lesson” to descend into chaos. Every serve from Lando came with a side of mockery, and every return you attempted was met with a running commentary.
“Almost had it!” he laughed when the ball hit the net for the third time.
“Maybe if you weren’t distracting me—” you started, only to stop when he darted closer to grab the ball. His smirk was annoyingly close, the sun lighting up the mischief in his eyes.
“Distracting? You think I’m distracting?”
Max’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. “Oi, Lando, stop flirting before she decks you.”
Your cheeks burned. “He’s not flirting. He’s just being a pain, as usual.”
Lando didn’t miss a beat, his smirk deepening. “Maybe both.”
You turned away quickly, heading back to the water, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you.
That evening, after another lively family dinner, you found yourself alone in the villa’s spacious kitchen, stacking plates for the dishwasher. The sound of footsteps behind you made you glance up, already knowing who it was.
“Ever the helpful one,” Lando said, leaning against the counter with a lazy grin, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Some of us like to pull our weight,” you replied, keeping your focus on the plates. “I know that’s foreign territory for you, Mr. gets his meals prepped like child and has always someone to clean up after him,” you took a not so subtle dig at the boy.
But Lando didn’t even respond to it. “And here I thought you just liked avoiding me,” he teased, his tone lighter than usual.
“I don’t need to avoid you,” you shot back, stacking the last plate a little harder than necessary.
“No?” he asked, stepping closer.
When you turned to face him, your breath hitched. He was standing so close now, his presence filling the small space between the counters. The grin on his face had softened into something almost… sincere.
“Admit it,” he said, his voice quieter now, his gaze locked on yours. “You missed me.”
Your pulse quickened, but you refused to let him see how he was affecting you. “Missed your constant harassment? Not a chance.”
Lando chuckled, but the sound was low, almost intimate. “Come on, Bambi. Be honest.” He leaned in, his hands braced on the counter behind you, effectively caging you in.
You huffed. “I don’t even get the option to miss you. I’ve seen you multiple times on TV over the last five years, each Sunday actually.”
“Oh so you watch my races?” Lando teased with a smirk, licking his bottom lip, which caught your attention for a second too long. “No, my friends watch your races. I don’t. And I can’t miss you if I can’t go anywhere without seeing your face planted on a random store window!” you called, pressing back into the kitchen counter.
“And still, you’ve been watching me all week.”
The air felt too thick, his proximity making it hard to think. His scent—something clean and warm—washed over you, and your heart was pounding in your chest.
“What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything,” you managed to say, your voice sharper than intended.
His lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Then why are you blushing?”
“I’m not—”
In a panic, you shoved at his chest, breaking the tension as he stepped back with a laugh. You crossed your arms, glaring at him, though your cheeks betrayed you with their warmth.
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, brushing past him to leave the kitchen.
But as you walked away, you could still feel his gaze on you, a lingering heat that stayed with you long after you left the room.
tg: @harrysdimple05
#lando norris#f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#ln4#lando norris x fewtrell!reader#brothers best friend#enemies to lovers#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lando norris x female reader
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Jingled Balls
What has four paws and ruins not only Joel’s Christmas, but his orgasm, too?
Alternatively, you and your cat stay with your dad’s best friend over Christmas.
Tags - dbf!joel, smut, age gap, unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, JOEL JORKS IT IN THE SHOWER, sexual tension, blow jobs, rough/angry sex, first aid, Joel is all grumpy and the target of all sorts of misadventures including but not limited to cat claws in Joel's balls and his butt cheeks, cats pushing shit off of Joel's counter, destroying Joel's house, etc. Some mentions of blood and injury but it’s not bad, I promise. 6.8k words. A/N - this fic is based on a true story of real crimes that have been committed by my dear Gizmo. Names have been changed out of respect for the victims. @endlessthxxghts thank you for editing babyyy i'd be lost without ya
My submission for @beefrobeefcal’s festive failure! I hope everyone has a safe holiday!!
December 20
Joel twiddles his fingers as he waits by a row of empty seats at the baggage claim area of the Austin airport, trying not to pace. He got here too early, been waiting a couple hours for your flight to land. He just couldn’t sit still at home. Already twice cleaned the house top to bottom, fluffed the guest room pillows three times each.
You. You’re staying with Joel this Christmas. It was a last minute thing; your family, well…they forgot about you. It wasn’t intentional, all accidental. Your parents offered up every and any extra amount of room they have to extended family and in doing so, gave away your old room. Whoops.
And so Joel got a call from your dad, his best friend. Joel was supposed to spend Christmas with your family anyway, so your dad reached out to Joel to ask if he’d be willing to take you in while you visit Austin for the week. Joel, of course, didn’t hesitate to say yes. He’d do anything for you, the sweet little girl he watched grow up. He’s missed you a lot since you left home.
Finally, there you are. He’d recognize your smile anywhere. You wave excitedly at Joel, doing your little jog to greet him. Joel takes long steps to meet you halfway, in total disbelief at how grown up you are. Where did the time go? It was only yesterday that you were barely tall enough to reach Joel’s waist, and that was standing on your toes. He remembers teaching you to ride a bike and cleaning up your scraped knees with hydrogen peroxide, and after he bandaged you up he’d let you punch him in the arm as hard as you could to make it square. Look at you now - a beautiful woman, all grown up.
You set your carry-on on the ground and wrap your arms around Joel, squeezing him so fucking tight it steals the oxygen right from his lungs, not that he minds. But the way you kiss his cheek makes his skin burn and his heart pound harder.
“Joel,” you whisper excitedly, hugging him tighter.
Joel lets out a wheezy chuckle. “Hey, kiddo. I missed ya,” he tells you. “S’been too fuckin’ long.”
“Indeed,” you agree.
Joel notices the suitcases from your flight begin to come out on the conveyor belt and squeezes your side twice to alert you, “Better go grab your suitcase, hm?”
“Oh, yeah. Duh. Here–” you laugh, pulling away from Joel to bend down. You pick up your carry on and put it in Joel’s arms, and he grunts at the surprising weight. “Hold this. Be right back.”
Joel inspects the boxy bag you placed in his hands. He turns it to the side and behind a mesh screen are two big green eyes, all wide and untrusting. “Uhhh…” Joel murmurs, further inspecting as he raises an eyebrow. It’s a cat - black fur all puffed up, growling at Joel as its eyes dart left and right. The cat hisses at Joel, causing him to nearly drop the carrier.
You greet Joel once more, this time with your suitcase rolling behind you. “Uh, hey. Who’s this?” Joel asks, suspicion lacing his tone.
“Gizmo!”
“Huh. Gizmo.” The cat hisses again at Joel, startling him. “You didn’t tell me that Gizmo here would be a guest of mine.”
“Oh, I know. I’m so sorry, Joel. It was all so last minute - I found out I was staying with you and then I called kitty daycare,” you begin explaining, Joel leading the way out of the airport and to his truck. He takes your suitcase and carries both that and the carrier. “And get this - they told me they wouldn’t allow me to board Gizmo because he was too bad the last time. Can you believe that?”
“Yeah, how ‘bout that,” Joel mumbles, not so surprised.
“I know. It’s bullshit. But don’t worry about Gizmo, Joel. You won’t even know he’s there.”
“M’not really a cat person, you know,” Joel says. “Pretty sure I’m allergic to the bastards, actually.”
Joel puts your luggage in the backseat of his truck, then opens the door for you to get in the passenger side. “Watch your step,” he warns, giving you his hand as you slide in. Joel closes the door, rounds the front of his truck and joins you, promptly starting the vehicle. The loud engine makes Gizmo cry.
“So…” Joel begins, turning onto the busy highway. “How’s it all going? How’s work and whatnot?”
“Good,” you answer. “I don’t know. You know - work’s work. You?”
“Yeah, I hear that,” Joel replies. “Work’s work and Tommy’s…Tommy.” His joke earns him a little giggle from you. ���What else is new? Got a boyfriend?” You give Joel a look, and he shrugs. “What?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, old man?” you tease, talking over Gizmo’s crying. “No, I do not. What about you, Joel, do you have a boyfriend?”
“Cute. Yeah, I do actually. Your father.” Another giggle. Joel laughs too, and he has to fight himself to keep his eyes on the road. You just look so fucking beautiful.
Gizmo whines some more, and Joel looks both irritated and concerned. “It’s okay, Gizmo,” you coo, reaching back to touch his carrier, though the effort does little to soothe him. Joel’s truck chimes when you unbuckle your seatbelt and throw your torso over the front seat, your ass right next to Joel’s head makes him cough and clear his throat.
“What the f-”
Thump. You land in the backseat and open Gizmo’s carrier to pet him and calm him. “It’s alright, Giz- oh, Gizmo, did you have an accident?” Joel’s mouth drops as his eyes dart frantically between the road ahead and the rearview mirror to watch you in the backseat. He’s got a bad taste in his mouth about this.
-
Now at home, Joel listens to the awful sounds of Gizmo wailing and your shrieks as you bathe the cat after his accident. He had to clean the backseat of his truck, but he didn’t tell you that. When you’re done washing Gizmo, you wrap him in one of Joel’s nicer towels, the one he set aside for you.
It’s evening when you come downstairs, clutching your soggy cat in his towel. You’re already in your pajamas, and Joel’s at the door paying the delivery person for the pizza he took the liberty of ordering.
“Ooh, is that pizza?”
“Sure is. Plain cheese and pepperoni. Sit down, I’ll serve ya,” Joel says. “What would you like?”
“Cheese. Please and thank you.”
You smile as you sit down on Joel’s couch, scratching Gizmo’s damp little head as he purrs happily in your arms. With hands full with plates and cans of pop, Joel makes a disgusted sort of face as you kiss Gizmo’s nose. “Here,” he says, handing you a plate. Gizmo hops off of your lap.
“Thank you.” You take a can of pop from Joel as well, cracking it open as Joel sits right next to you. He turns the TV on, Die Hard already a quarter through on whatever channel his TV was set to. It’ll do.
You and Joel eat pizza together, talking here and there until the conversation fades away and only pizza crust remains on your plates, which are haphazardly set on the coffee table in front of you. At some point, you’ve slid closer to Joel, now pressed against his side with your head resting on his shoulder, dozing off to sleep. He smiles warmly, you poor thing. All worn out after a long day of travel. He doesn’t mind being your pillow.
Scrrraatchk, skrecht. Joel hears the odd, rhythmic noise of…something. “Hey, hon–” Joel wiggles his shoulder. “What’s that noise?”
“Mm?”
“That sound, it’s–” Out of the corner of his eye, Joel catches Gizmo scratching on his leather recliner - his favorite recliner ever. La-Z-Boy just doesn't make them like they used to. “Oh, god bless it. The fuckin’ cat’s scratchin’ on my chair.”
“Oh, shit. Psst,” you whisper, patting the couch to get Gizmo’s attention, who gives you and Joel that deer in the headlights look. “Knock it off. You know better than that, baby,” you scold in the sweetest, most indulgent tone. Joel rolls his eyes. This is getting old already. “Sorry, Joel. He’s just nervous, trying to make himself feel at home.”
“Mm,” Joel grumbles. “You know, this is exactly why people get their cats declawed. You never considered that for Heathcliff there?”
“No,” you deadpan. “It’s inhumane.”
Joel raises his hands in surrender, then eyes Gizmo as he walks around the perimeter of the living room, stopping to sniff and bat at Joel’s Christmas tree. “Watch him,” he warns, voice dripping with irritation.
You smack his arm. “Oh, relax, old man. He’s not gonna do anything. Pretty tree, though.”
“Thanks. Decorated it myself.”
“I can tell. It’s missing ornaments in the back,” you tease. Joel rolls his eyes, though unoffended. “Still. It’s nice to be around a Christmas tree. I don’t have one this year.”
“You don’t?”
“Mm-mm. Gizmo’s too naughty.”
Joel turns to look at you, baffled by your cognitive dissonance. He just shakes his head, and you go right back to almost-snuggling him.
Gizmo loses interest in Joel’s Christmas tree and continues making his rounds, checking out the window and pawing at the blinds, which makes Joel cringe. Before Joel can say anything you shiver, tucking yourself closer into his side. “You cold, kiddo?”
“A little. But I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.” Joel nudges you away from him so he can get up, then pulls a blanket from a basket on the floor. It’s one of those fleece tie blankets, with the repeated logo of the Dallas Cowboys patterned on one side, plain navy on the other. You made this blanket for him, actually. Years and years ago. It’s his favorite - used to be soft at one point, but it’s all scratchy and worn now, well-loved by Joel. He drapes it over his lap and holds one end up, inviting you to get cozy underneath it. But before you do, Gizmo jumps on Joel’s lap. “Awwwh,” you murmur, smiling warmly at your cat. “He stole the blanket.”
“Yeah, but s’alright. We’ll jus’ move him,” Joel says, reaching for Gizmo.
“No, no, he’s fine,” you insist, petting Gizmo’s back. “I think he likes you.”
“Oh, great,” Joel says sarcastically. Gizmo curls up happily on Joel’s lap, kneading the blanket right over Joel’s crotch, which is an uncomfortable sensation. Joel winces and grunts when Gizmo paws his balls. “Watch it, you little shit.”
“Be nice,” you scold, swatting Joel in the arm.
“Uh-huh.”
You and Joel finish the movie and start another, all with Gizmo sleeping happily on Joel’s lap. At some point, you’ve curled yourself up and are now sleeping on your side, feet pressed against Joel’s thigh. “Alright. Time for you to fuck off.” Joel pushes Gizmo off his lap, earning a disgruntled meow from the cat. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, shooing him away before pulling the fleece blanket over your sleeping form. “If it were up to me, you’d be sleepin’ in the garage. So don’t you wake her,” he warns, wagging a finger in Gizmo’s direction. “Asshole.”
December 21
A bit of golden light peeks through Joel’s curtain, gently waking him up. He yawns and checks his digital alarm clock, though he can barely make out the time. Meh. It’s sunrise, whenever that is.
You’re probably still sleeping, Joel guesses, so he’ll grab the first shower. If you’re anything like when you were younger - and you are - if Joel doesn’t shower first, he’ll never get any hot water. He doesn't understand your unique inability to ever shower under 45 minutes, but he can work around it.
Groaning, springs squeaking with his shifting weight, Joel gets out of bed. He takes lazy, heavy steps toward the bathroom, hair sticking up in six different directions with bags under his deep brown eyes. He turns on the water and lets it warm up for a moment, grunting as he tugs his boxers down his thighs, erection slapping against his tummy. He’s hard as a fucking rock - morning wood.
You. You shouldn’t be in his head, but you are. Joel dreamed of you all last night, doing all sorts of filthy things with you, to you. It’s probably nothing - you’re a pretty girl, and Joel’s not gotten laid in however long. Biology. Inappropriate. Wrong. But biology, nonetheless.
Joel steps into the tub, facing the showerhead. He wets his hair, water trickling down his broad, freckled shoulders. He first scrubs his hair using some 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, tangling his fingers in the sudsy strands, then rinses and finger-combs his hair back. Next, he grabs a bar of soap and lathers it in a rag, washing over the broad planes of his chest, his soft tummy, all down his legs, then rinses and wrings out the rag.
His left hand on the wall, right hand palms his cock. Joel wraps his fingers around himself, sliding his hand all the way down, squeezing the base of his shaft. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers, dragging his hand back up.
Joel fucks his fist with abandon, and in his head, he’s picturing you. “Oh goddamn, kiddo,” he moans, eyes squeezed shut. Your eyes are all big and wide with your mouth full of his cock, drooling down his shaft and onto his balls. Or you’re on top of him, hands on his chest as you fuck yourself on his cock. He’s behind you, big hands gripping your waist as he pounds against your ass, leaning over you to lick and taste the skin between your shoulder blades.
With his eyes closed as he pumps his cock, what Joel doesn’t see is Gizmo. Gizmo, wedged between the shower curtain and the liner, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub, tail swinging wildly back and forth. His pupils are big as droplets of water roll down the clear liner.
Joel’s dick is red and throbbing, his cheeks are flushed pink as he approaches orgasm. “Fu- oh,” he pants, quickly reaching for his damp washrag. He bites the fabric to quiet his noises of pleasure. His brow knits together, the wrinkles on his face handsomely defined as he grimaces when his cock begins to throb. He’s about to fall over the edge when it’s all ruined - a sharp pain in his ass cheek, dragging down his flesh. “AHHH!” Joel screams in both shock and agony, looking for the source of his pain.
Of fucking course - Gizmo. Gizmo, with his little, fuzzy arm raised high, claws poking through the shower liner and right into Joel’s ass. He’s squirming, stuck like that of course, go figure. “Get the fuck out of here you fuck-” Joel yells, violently shaking the shower curtain. Gizmo sprints out of the shower and around the bathroom in circles, anxiously pawing for any way out. “God fuckin’ - SHIT,” he rages, stomping out of the tub sopping wet and inadvertently kicking Gizmo with every step he takes. Joel frantically opens the bathroom door, wet hands slipping on the handle. “Scram, you fuckin’ asshole,” he spits, watching Gizmo slip out of the bathroom.
“JOEL?!”
Gizmo jumps right into your arms, and Joel gawks at you.
“What did you fucking do to my cat?”
“What did I do?” Joel seethes. “He clawed my fuckin’ asscheek!”
Joel can’t believe his eyes. You’re shooting him dirty looks as you kiss Gizmo’s little head, and Gizmo’s headbutting your face in return. He rubs his cheeks on your nose and curls his furry little body into yours, and you pout as you soothe him. “Yeah, sure. Worry about the cat. I’m fuckin’ fine, I guess,” Joel bites, catching a glimpse of a small amount of blood running down his thigh from his ass.
Joel shuts the door then, and gets back into the shower. He washes the scratch with soap and water, wincing at the sting. When he’s done with his shower - and only his shower, as it’s now too late for him to make himself come, Joel apologizes to you for losing his temper.
“Well, don’t apologize to me, Joel. Apologize to him.”
Joel pauses, jaw twitching, balling his hands into fists as he glares at Gizmo purring contentedly in your lap. “Sorry.” It’s the most painful, undeserved apology he’s ever had to make
Between the holidays and your cat, Joel can already tell it’s gonna be a long fucking week.
December 22
Joel’s current job site isn’t too far from home, so instead of eating a packed sandwich in his truck, he decides to come home one afternoon to make himself something for lunch.
He enters his house through the garage and sees you napping peacefully on his couch, snoring ever so quietly. Your lips are pouting, drooling a little onto his leather couch as the TV plays at a low volume. Joel chuckles quietly, shaking his head. It makes Joel happy to see you comfortable like that, so at home at his house.
He strolls into the kitchen and opens his refrigerator, grabbing some lunch meat and cheese. He tosses them onto the counter, then grabs a jar of mayonnaise and a loaf of bread sitting on top of the refrigerator, sets those down too. Joel grabs a plate, and when he turns back around, Gizmo’s on the counter.
“Get down from there,” Joel hisses, shooing away the cat. “Go on, git.”
Gizmo blinks at him nonchalantly, which pisses Joel off. He knows that fucking cat speaks English. So Joel takes the liberty to shove Gizmo off of the counter, Gizmo landing on all fours with a thump and a discontent meow. “Yeah, shut up.”
Joel pulls two slices of bread from the loaf and opens the jar of mayonnaise, spreading a thin layer on each piece. He moves the jar out of the way and begins assembling his sandwich, and Gizmo hops right back onto his spot on the counter to stare at Joel.
“Oh, you little…” Joel whispers, trailing off and shaking his head. Joel cuts his sandwich on the diagonal, then begins making another - for you, of course. You always told Joel sandwiches taste better when he makes them. You’re a master fucking manipulator, with Joel wrapped tightly around your finger.
Gizmo reaches for the cheese. “Don’t even think about it, Heathcliff,” Joel gruffs, swatting his paw away. “Sandwich is for her. Not. You.”
Joel puts your sandwich in a little baggy and places it in the refrigerator before writing a note for you on a post-it. When he returns to the counter, Gizmo’s surreptitiously dipping his paw into the mayonnaise. “Hey!” Joel snaps, “Get yer fuckin’ mitts outta there.”
December 23
It’s late at night when Joel wakes up to a horrible suffocation. His eyes fly open and his heart pounds with the heavy weight on his chest, and in his hypnagogic state, he begins to panic. Fuck, he’s having a heart attack. Confused and scared, he tosses his body with the little strength he has, and that’s when he feels it - two paws rhythmically pressing into his chest, a low purr.
Gizmo.
“Get the fuck off of me,” Joel whispers, pushing Gizmo off his chest.
Gizmo makes a little mrrp noise on the floor, then leaves. Joel rolls his eyes and tosses onto his stomach, then tries to drift off to sleep.
But he can’t. Joel’s up now, as there’s nothing like a middle of the night panic to jolt the nervous system wide awake. So Joel groans softly as he sits up in bed, yanking the blankets off his body. He takes slow, sleepy steps out of his room and down the stairs, grabbing himself a glass from the cabinet above the sink. “Fuckin’ cat,” he mumbles quietly as he fills the glass with some water. Joel takes a few sips, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of his house. In his living room, he can see some ornaments are strewn across the floor, lights pulled off the branches of his Christmas tree. As if on cue, Gizmo brushes up against Joel’s leg. “I know what you did, you motherfucker,” Joel grumbles, gently pushing Gizmo away with his foot. Joel sets the glass of water down, then makes his way to the living room.
He first puts the lights back on the tree, and then he gathers the ornaments and places them back on the branches.
Skrrrch.
Joel looks back to see Gizmo on the counter, nudging Joel’s glass along the surface with a gentle bat of his paw, inching it closer and closer to the edge. “HEY,” Joel whisper-yells, warning the cat, “I fuckin’ dare ya, cat. Watch what happens.”
Gizmo makes direct eye contact with Joel as he pushes it off, and it lands with that signature, awful sound of broken glass.
“God bless it.”
Joel stomps over to Gizmo, who frantically jumps down off the counter and skitters off into another room. Joel chases him down and turns on a light, then corners him and grabs his little body. He cradles the squirming, whining cat and inspects all four paws to make sure he didn’t step on any glass, then tosses him back onto the floor, where Gizmo then runs up the stairs and into Joel’s guest room to join you in a peaceful slumber.
Joel sweeps up the broken glass, defeated.
December 24
Joel’s off work for both Christmas Eve and Christmas day, so finally, he gets to spend some time with you. He’s in his pajamas making eggs and toast for you at the stove, and you’re at the kitchen table, sipping on the orange juice Joel poured for you. “Vitamin C,” he’d said. “S’good for ya.”
Joel plates your eggs, done just how you like them, and butters your toast. “Here ya are, darlin’,” he murmurs, setting down both yours and his plates at the table.
“Thank you, Joel,” you smile. Gizmo’s weaving in and out between your feet on the ground. With the side of your fork, you cut off a small bite of your eggs and drop it on the ground, smiling at the way Gizmo darts out to eat it. Joel just watches, completely dumbfounded.
“You and that cat,” he sighs. “You know, your cat there has been causin’ me all sorts ‘a trouble all week.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that,” you argue, leaning down to scratch Gizmo between his ears.
“Well, you should. He’s the fuckin’ devil. Broke a glass last night.”
“Did not.”
“Did too. An’ he’s been fuckin’ with my tree,” Joel adds.
You roll your eyes. “It’s just a little cat, Joel. Are you being bullied by a tiny little cat?”
“As a matter ‘a fact, yes. I am.”
You and Joel spend the rest of the day relaxing and watching Christmas episodes of sitcoms together. Joel has you wrap his presents, claiming it’s what you owe him for allowing you and your devil cat to stay.
In the late afternoon, you and Joel get ready to go to your parents’ house for Christmas Eve dinner. Joel wears a dark green flannel and runs a comb through his hair, and you put on a nice dress, one that hugs your curves beautifully.
You knock twice on his bedroom door. “Joel?”
“Yeah, kiddo. C’mon in.”
“Just wondering if you can zip me,” you ask quietly, spinning around for Joel to pull the zipper up your dress.
“Can do,” he answers. He puts a hand on your waist and tugs the zipper all the way up, then smoothes out the fabric. “Y’look beautiful,” he tells you. “Know that?”
“Joooel,” you murmur bashfully, elongating his name.
“I mean it,” Joel says, spinning you around and pushing a bit of hair out of your eyes with his pinky finger and smiling at you, which makes you all flustered. Joel clears his throat then, ushering you out of his room and down the stairs. “M’nervous about leavin’ that cat of yours all alone, you know. If we get home from this and that asshole destroyed my fuckin’–”
You squeeze Joel’s arm. “Relax,” you tell him, but your words do little to soothe the man. The whole time at dinner, all Joel can talk with your parents about is how awful Gizmo is. All the trouble he’s caused, and how you think the little bastard can do no wrong. “Your daughter feeds him,” Joel tells your dad, watching your reaction. “Right from her plate.”
The night comes and goes, much like it always does. Christmas comes so much faster than it ever used to, and it doesn’t last as long. Joel drives you both home and to Joel’s surprise, his house is in one piece. But not the present he got you.
“Goddamn it,” Joel grumbles, seeing the gift bag he left under his tree for you in shreds. He picked out a little black cat ornament for you, and thought you’d like it. He put some cat treats in the bag too. Go fucking figure that Gizmo ruins it.
You help Joel clean up the mess of shredded paper and plastic, all the cat treats are, of course, eaten. “Fuckin’ cat’s probably pukin’ in my bed,” Joel gruffs.
You put your ornament on Joel’s tree and squeeze his shoulder sympathetically. “You’re thoughtful,” you tell him.
Joel smiles with his lips pressed together. He’s so ready for this week to be over. He’ll miss you - god, will he miss you when you’re gone, but he will not miss your asshole fucking cat. “How ‘bout another Christmas movie, hm?”
“Yeah,” you agree, smiling.
“M’takin’ requests. Got any?” Joel opens his entertainment center cabinet to show you his array of DVD’s, the Christmas movies all already set out.
“This one.” You tap the Bad Santa DVD case. “‘Cause he’s hot.”
“Who is? Billy Bob Thornton?”
“Mhm,” you nod, smirking.
Joel makes a disgusted face and gives you a look, but puts the movie in the DVD player anyway. Some of the vulgar jokes make Joel blush, which is uncomfortable for him and entertaining for you.
When the movie’s over, it’s time to go to bed. For real, too. You and Joel have to be at your parents’ house again in the morning and will likely spend the entire day there, getting no alone time or space from anyone. Joel bids you goodnight and kisses you on the cheek, then heads to the bathroom for a night time shower. He doesn’t wanna fight you for it in the morning.
Joel keeps only the night light on in the bathroom. He’s exhausted, eyes are dry and stinging with tiredness. He pulls off his t-shirt, unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans and boxers down his legs together, then toes off his socks, yawning as he scratches his balls. In a sleepy haze, Joel gets into the tub and turns on the shower.
He’s met with that sharp, awful, excruciating pain of claws in his skin, only it’s not in his thighs. Not in his ass.
His fucking balls. Your cat’s claws are in Joel’s balls, and dragging down his sack. Joel feels like puking as it happens, and at the same time he’s being blasted with cold water as Gizmo panics and scratches his body further. It’s like a cartoon, when two characters fight and it’s just pure chaos - a cloud of screaming and other concerning noises, concerning noises that startle you awake.
“FUUUUUUCK!!” Joel yells, scrambling to get out of the tub. He clutches his scrotum and wraps a towel haphazardly around his waist, feeling dizzy as he bleeds into his palm. “Fuck - y–”
You fly out of bed and sprint to the bathroom, where Gizmo is clawing at the bottom of the door. “Joel?” you knock frantically. “Joel!”
Joel unlocks the door and Gizmo sprints out, soaking wet and leaving a path of water droplets in his wake. Joel’s white as a fucking ghost. “Joel?”
“H- he-” Joel can’t even get the words out. Still holding his towel in place, Joel checks the palm of his hand and sees a mess of crimson. “Oh my god,” he says with a weakened voice.
“Joel, what the fuck? What happened?!”
Joel shakes his head, vision going spotty as he waddles to his bedroom and sits on the bed. You follow him, shutting the door behind you and turning the light on in his room. “Joel.”
Joel says nothing, only peeks slightly at his crotch. He does his best to protect his modesty with you there but fuck, he’s gonna faint. And unfortunately, you might see more than you should, should that happen.
“Did he scratch you?” Joel only nods, swallowing thickly. “Okay, alright. Where’s your first aid stuff?”
“Bathroom vanity,” Joel chokes out.
You hurry to the bathroom and grab Joel’s first aid kit, then return quickly to him.
Joel has a strong stomach, however, the sight of his mangled scrotum is too much for his heart to take. If he looks, he might puke and faint and that’ll make everything worse. “You gotta do it,” he tells you, urgency in his voice. “I can’t look. Cat fuckin’ butchered me. I’m a eunuch.”
“Okay, okay,” you whisper, sitting beside Joel. You take his hand in yours, the one that’s clutching his towel shut. He’s shaking, trembling, and you move it to the side so you can open his towel.
“I’m gonna be sick,” Joel says.
“You’re fine,” you reply calmly, though in all honesty you’re pretty nervous too. “I’m gonna open up your towel, okay?”
“Yeah, go ‘head and do it. M’so sorry, kid. Jesus christ,” Joel groans. He leans back so that he’s laying flat on the bed, palms pressed into his eyes as his tummy rises and falls with panicked breaths.
You open the towel and asses the injuries.
It’s not bad.
Really.
It’s not. But you still wouldn’t trade places with Joel, right now. There’s quite a few scratches here and there, some deeper and longer than others. Nothing a little cleanup and some antibiotic ointment can’t fix. “Okay, Joel. I’m gonna be right back, I need to get a soapy rag.” Joel gives you a weak thumbs up.
You run the water on warm and lather a clean rag with some soap, then return to Joel to wash the scratches. “Might sting,” you tell him, dragging the rag gently over his sack. You do your best to remain professional or something of the sort, to ignore how Joel’s cock thickens at your touch. His thick thatch of hair spattered around the base of his dick, gray, wiry hairs sprinkled amongst the brown. He’s thicker than you would have guessed, longer too, curved so beautifully. And his thighs - gorgeous, toned. Belly is soft, arms are strong. He’s gorgeous, all laid out like this.
Joel’s…Joel is feeling every emotion. Embarrassment, because his best friend’s daughter is between his thighs and carefully tending to his lacerated balls. Rage, because her fucking shithead cat is the reason he’s in this predicament. Aroused, because he’s only a man, and you’re too fucking pretty for him to not get hard from your touch.
“Are you doing okay, Joel?” you whisper.
“Ask me later.” Joel wipes some sweat from his brow. “Sorry about the…my…uh…”
“It’s fine,” you assure him. “Didn’t know you were hung like that, Joel.”
“Jesus Christ, kid, don’t say shit like that.”
You stifle your laughter as you toss the rag to the side, the bleeding now stopped. You unscrew the cap of some Neosporin, then squeeze a generous amount onto your fingertip.
“I’m gonna touch you,” you warn. “Just some Neosporin. Okay?”
Joel nods. “Go for it.” He clears his throat when you touch his shaft, moving it slightly out of the way so you can dab the ointment on his scratches. Fuck, he’s struggling to conceal his moans and his stuttered breathing.
Gizmo hops on the couch then, and headbutts Joel’s bicep.
“Get that goddamn cat away from me before I put him through the fuckin’ wall,” Joel seethes.
You don’t push. You know Joel means business, and Gizmo really did fuck up this time. “Psst, Gizmo. Get down. Leave Joel alone,” you whisper, swatting Gizmo onto the floor. “Gizmo’s really sorry,” you murmur, still rubbing ointment onto Joel’s balls. “He didn’t mean to, Joel. He must’ve thought—”
Joel holds up a hand to stop you. “Don’t. Jus’ don’t.”
“Okay,” you whisper. You lift Joel’s ballsack to see if you missed any scratches, but you didn’t. “You’re all done, Joel.”
Joel scoffs, and you stroke his thigh soothingly to calm him. He says nothing, only collects his breathing. His cock is still achingly hard, a pearly, pretty bead of precum at the tip.
It’s a risk, but you take it anyway. You lean down and press a kiss right against his ballsack, conscious to avoid any scratches inflicted by Gizmo.
“Woah, woah, woah-”
“Shhh,” you whisper. “Do you want this?”
“Yeah, but-”
“But nothing.” You kiss Joel’s sack all over as much as you can, and once you’ve exhausted that, you kiss up his hard shaft. “I’m kissing it better.”
You lick up the length of Joel’s shaft, then circle your tongue a few times around the tip. With one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, you rest the other on his tummy.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel sighs, voice dripping with relief as his hips thrust up, almost as if to chase your mouth. He sits up and reaches for your head, softly dragging his nails over your scalp rhythmically. “You’re a good girl.”
You take his tip into your mouth, working your way down his cock to take him fully inside. Joel tastes salty, sweaty, heady and so masculine, just like you always imagined, and it makes you wet. And you, with your warm and wet and inviting mouth, Joel’s imagination didn’t come close to mimicking this. You bob your head up and down his shaft, bouncing your nose into his pubic hair.
“Jus’ like that,” Joel grunts. “Attagirl.”
His words only worsen your growing arousal, and you can feel yourself making a mess of your panties. You fuck Joel’s cock with your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and spitting down his shaft and your knuckles.
Joel pulls your head away from his cock. “Wait a second,” he tells you. “Wanna look at the mess you’re makin’,” he mumbles, admiring the slick, wet mess of your saliva on his cock. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he murmurs, then pushes you back down onto his cock.
Joel thrusts into your mouth a bit harshly, though maintaining a certain gentleness to it. He ruts into your mouth, grunting your name as you drool on him, just as he pictured before.
You reach into your skirt and pull your panties to the side, the cotton is all but soaked with your wetness. Dragging a finger up and down your folds, you moan onto Joel’s cock, sending vibrations down his shaft.
“Whatcha doin’ there, kiddo?” he rasps.
“Nothing,” you murmur, pressing kisses against his dick.
“Sure don’t look like nothin’. C’mere.” Joel pulls you close to him and tugs the zipper of your back down your dress, then helps you out of it. He unclasps your bra and pulls your soaked panties down your legs, clutching them in his fist before shoving them behind his pillow.
In a swift motion that has you yelping excitedly, Joel flips you on your back, the bed beneath you warm with his body heat. Joel settles between your thighs and pushes your knees back toward your chest. “Yeah, s’it. This what you wanted, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, settling into his pillows. Joel’s hot breath fans over your hot, pulsing sex as he places his large, meaty hands on the backs of your thighs. Fuck, the way you smell has Joel’s head spinning, dizzy with lust. He presses kisses against your inner thighs first, working his way toward your center where he kisses sloppily over your clit.
“Makin’ a mess of my sheets, y’know that, kid?” Joel teases, admiring the puddle of arousal you’re dripping onto his bed. He feels the heat of your cunt radiating against his face, inviting him in. He squeezes the meat of your thighs as he licks one long stripe up your pussy, then rubs your skin in circles with his thumbs.
With a flattened tongue, Joel continues licking, rounding your clit before repeating the motion. He memorizes your folds, your taste, your scent. You moan his name and clutch his head against your cunt, your wordless plea for more.
“I’ll give ya more, sweetheart. I know what you want,” he says, tongue now circling your entrance before dipping inside to taste you. He drags his tongue back up and flicks it up and down over your clit. Urgently, you tug on his graying, dark curls, pleasure blooming in your gut. You’re soaking his face as your climax approaches, thighs twitching beneath his palms. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant.
“Let go, darlin’.”
You’re about to come when -
CRASH
It’s a loud, thundering crash, the sound of broken glass and heavy objects hitting the floor. Joel growls against your pussy and violently punches the bed on either side of you before tearing himself away from your cunt and stomping downstairs with a renewed anger for your cat.
“I swear to fuckin’ Christ,” he fumes, seeing the mess Gizmo, of course, made. You’re right behind Joel, your jaw dropped in shock.
Ornaments all over the floor, some shattered and others still in one piece. The Christmas tree is somehow in two pieces - god only knows how gizmo managed to do that. The Christmas lights are strewn all over the place and there’s your precious cat, tangled up in the mess. Joel seethes as he makes his way toward Gizmo to free him of the lights, “You get the fuck outta here,” he hisses.
“It was an accident!”
Joel turns around, chest heaving with his angry breaths. “Not another fuckin’ word,” he says, grabbing you by the arm and forcing you over the leather recliner. Joel laughs without humor when he sees that it’s been further scratched by Gizmo.
He parts your legs with his foot, then lines up with your slick hole and enters you in one swift thrust, the action both mind-splittingly painful and pleasurable.
“Joel,” you moan, reaching behind yourself to grab at his thigh as he sets a quick, brutal pace.
“You are…” he starts, “Never…bringing…that fucking cat…here…ever again,” Joel pants, fucking you with anger. “Do you fucking understand me?”
“Y-yes,” you whimper, voice muffled with your face pressed into the chair.
Joel draws out of you all the way, admiring your milky arousal glistening on his cock underneath the glow of the ruined Christmas lights. He plunges back in, then fucks you harshly. He draws in and out of you so quickly and steadily, the head of his cock brushing over your g-spot with each of his thrusts. “Fuck,” he grunts, pulling you by your hips onto his cock repeatedly.
He breathes loudly through his nose, fucking fuming with rage as he uses your cunt to relieve himself of the stress you - yes, you caused him. That cat may be Satan’s spawn but he’s still yours. You are responsible for this.
Pleasure builds quickly in you, and Joel can tell. He leans over you to press his fingers against your clit; he doesn’t even have to move them to make you come. Just the pressure and the motion of his rough fucking is enough to send you over the edge, pussy pulsing and gushing on Joel’s stiff cock, making a mess of him.
Joel pulls you against his chest and bites your ear as he pounds into you, chasing his own orgasm. His balls tighten and his body tenses before release, and then he’s spilling into you, spurting milky white ropes of his hot come inside you. “Fuck, goddamn,” he grunts, fucking himself through his climax. When he’s finished, he pulls out of you unceremoniously, your combined arousal spilling onto the ground. What’s another fucking mess to clean up.
Joel rounds the chair and plops onto the couch, pulling you down with him. You yelp as you fall but he catches you in his strong arms and hugs you close against his body, kissing your forehead and cheeks. “I fuckin’ hate that cat,” he tells you, panting.
Gizmo mrrps then and jumps onto Joel’s lap with you, walking over both of your bodies to greet Joel specifically, bunting Joel’s face as he purrs.
“He’s really sorry,” you giggle.
“Yeah, m’sure.” Joel surprises you both and brings a hand to Gizmo’s face, gently petting his head. “I mean it,” Joel warns. “Never. Again.”
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#joel miller x reader#Joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller#Joel miller/reader#dbf!joel#Dbf!joel miller#tlou smut#tlou fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#Pedro pascal characters
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Love me like this (OT8 x reader)
pairing: OT8 x reader omegaverse AU
summary: when you get your first ever heat well into your adulthood, the only thing you want to do is shut everyone else out. fortunately for you, your boyfriends have another idea.
warnings: omegaverse, virgin f! reader, uses she/her, oral f! receiving, oral m! receiving, face fucking, heat cycles, thigh riding, penetrative/unprotected sex, knotting, slight degradation, some mxm, spitting, bulge kink, some size kink, talk of safe words, mean dom! Chan, breeding kink, talk of mating bites, basically a huge orgy
wc: 10500 (jesus christ) notes: this is straight up filth (sorry) but also my first omegaverse fic!! here are there scents: Chan: petrichor/mint; Minho: vanilla/black tea; Changbin: jasmine/patchouli; Hyunjin: rose/vanilla; Jisung: bergamot/pink pepper; Felix: sea salt/sandalwood; Seungmin: lavender/fresh laundry; Jeongin: lime/grass; Y/N: caramel/brown sugar
You hadn’t seen the boys all day. Maybe that’s why they were so concerned when their first impression of you was the door slamming behind you on your way into the house. You didn’t mean to cause such a scene, but you did run here. You keep your head down and the anxious spike in their smells overwhelms you. You know you should explain to them what’s going on but you can’t find it in you, instead running toward your room as you ignore their calls after you. When a sharp pain hits your abdomen you trip a little bit, clutching your stomach. But with your instincts on high alert, you make it to your room before anyone can catch up to you, locking it behind you for safe measure.
“I’m fine,” you call out a bit harshly behind you. “I’m fine. I just want to be left alone.”
You’re more than glad that you decided to put on the strongest scent blockers you own today or they would have immediately known what was going on. Your heart beats out of your chest and you know all you want to do is bundle up and seek safety and comfort, so that is exactly what you do. Once the bottom of your closet is cleared out, you drag your comforter off of your bed and spread it on the floor. You find every blanket and pillow in your room and add it to the pile. When you spot Chan’s hoodie, the one that you begged him for just the other day because it was drenched in his smell, you know you need it the closest to you. You throw it over your body despite how warm you are, grabbing your noise canceling headphones for good measure, and shut your closet door behind you. It would be just a matter of time before they come banging on the door asking what was wrong but you just can’t tell them.
Your heat has started.
And though this relationship with your boyfriends is new, you hadn’t quite crossed the physical barrier with any of them yet. You also haven’t told them yet… that this is your first heat. That’s why it came on so unexpectedly and why, perhaps, you’re so ashamed. Trying hard to ignore the pain shooting through your body and centralizing in your stomach, you shut your eyes tight and focus on your breathing. You just need to sleep. For now, that’s all you need.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You smell petrichor and mint before you see him. You’re encompassed by the familiar smell of rain that immediately soothes you and you know when you open your eyes that Chan will be there. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and your eyes finally flutter open. You take out your headphones and look at him, not saying anything.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“How’d you get in my room,” you mumble. You know you locked the door behind you so when you see Chan look at you sheepishly, rubbing his neck, you sit up to look at your door. Completely off of its hinges. “Chan,” you groan.
“I know, I know,” he tells you. “I wasn’t trying to go all ‘controlling pack alpha’ on you, but I was really starting to get nervous, you know? You ran in here lookin like you were in pain, you didn’t answer anybody and you closed yourself in your room… I know you wanted to be left alone but it’s been about two hours and you haven’t answered anybody. I was really worried, okay? I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” you answer. You understand. You really do.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks. His hand strokes your arm and it comforts you. The alpha notices your hesitation and sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Can I… can I scent you? I think it would calm both my alpha and your omega down a little… and you are wearing my hoodie. Do you want that?” You nod and crawl into his open arms, burying your face into his neck. You inhale deeply to get his scent and you notice his fingers lightly brushing over your scent patches.
“Don’t,” you say into his neck. He retracts his hands instantly and you sit in comfortable silence, him rocking your bodies back and forth peacefully in an attempt to soothe you.
“I started my heat,” you tell him finally. You feel him tense a little bit before he gains his composure.
“We thought maybe that’s what happened…” he replied truthfully. You shoot him a suspicious look and you notice his face start to turn red. “We noticed… uh… we could sort of smell your slick.”
“Oh my god that’s so embarrassing,” you groan.
“It’s okay, love, it’s natural,” he answers softly. “Everybody has heats and ruts… you’ve seen your fair share of alphas in pre-rut in this house to know that.”
“Not me,” you admit. “Everybody gets them… except for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never… gotten my heat before, Chan.” You can tell by his expression that he’s shocked and a little confused.
“But you’re presented…? You’re an omega,” he points out. That much is obvious, you want to tell him.
“I presented without going through a heat. I had… a pseudo-heat, basically. That first time my body produced just enough hormones that I presented but not enough to sustain a heat… and I’ve never had one since. They said my omegan hormones were too low.”
“But you started it today?” he questions. You nod. “It’s understandable… I mean, you live with eight overly-hormonal alphas that are now courting you. It’s probably your body's natural reaction. Is that what’s got you so worked up?” You nodded again. “Why didn’t you tell us, baby?”
“I was embarrassed,” you admit shyly. He grabs your cheeks so that you’re looking right into his eyes.
“What is the worst that could have happened, hmm? Did you think we would tease you? Shame you?” You reluctantly nod your head from where it rests between his hands. “That would never, ever happen.”
“I know,” you tell him. Logically you knew that but you couldn’t help the burning feeling of shame and embarrassment that flooded through your body. “I was… at the store… and some asshole alpha noticed that I started my heat… I didn’t know how he knew. I didn’t even know! But he made some uncomfortable comments and I got so scared… I ran all the way home.”
“You poor thing,” he coos. “Next time if you ever need us or you feel unsafe, you can call me right away. You can call any of us. We’ll always come to you, no questions asked, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Can I scent you now?” he asks. You think about it for a second before nodding. Your body now feels like any threat is gone, maybe from Chan’s alpha pheromones that he’s been pumping out or maybe due to his reassuring words. You let him peel your scent patches off and your scent of caramel and brown sugar floods the room. With the undertones of Chan’s mint smell, the room almost smells overwhelmingly of a bakery. You know your smell is overpowering, sickly sweet and probably too strong but Chan inhales it straight from its source, burying your head in your neck. “Do you want me… or maybe another alpha… to take care of you for your heat?” he asks carefully.
“I was going… I just… I can do it myself,” you tell him. His eyes widen.
“For your first heat? Are you sure? It’s probably going to be a lot.”
“It’s just… I’ve never…”
“You’ve never had sex?” he asks. Your lack of an answer tells him everything that you need to know. “I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that, baby. If you want, whoever you might choose would be very careful and go nice and slow. They’d make you comfortable, love. Are you sure you don’t want to try? It’s up to you.”
His words have you already starting to heat up more than before. You attempt to squeeze your thighs together but Chan’s thick legs are in your way. You’d forgotten that you were practically sitting in his lap.
“Do you want that, baby?” he questions, noticing the arousal painted on your face and how your scent starts to sweeten the more you think about it. You nod eagerly. “Who do you want to pick for your first time?”
You think and you think but you just can’t seem to pick one of your alphas over the other. The more you think about it, you’re not sure you can leave any one of them out of the situation… you’ve come to love each and every one of your boyfriends, you were sexually attracted to all of them, and they all make you feel comforted and feel like you’re at home. Your wolf cannot stand to have one and not the others, practically howling in protest. Your stomach twists when you think about how to express this to Chan.
“Need… you all. I want everyone to be there.” His eyes widen slightly. You can tell he’s more than aroused by the thought of it.
“You’re sure?” he asks, scanning your expression one final time.
“Can’t choose. I want all my boyfriends.”
There’s no judgment in his face whatsoever. You know your boyfriends have all had multiple partners for their ruts before so this wouldn’t be anything new… You were the last to be courted, the last to join the relationship, and so you were the only one who hadn’t crossed that barrier with anyone yet. You’re a little nervous but more than excited for the prospect of what’s to come, to finally cross the line with all eight of them. And you can't wait to tell them.
When Chan asks if you want to move your nest into the den you agree. The makeshift nest in your closet just isn't going to cut it anymore. You need something suitable for all eight of your alphas. Chan clears the den before you enter and takes the time to explain to all of the boys what is going on while you work on building your communal nest.
Spreading out your comforter widely across the floor, you start rummaging around the house to find items from everyone. You want the blanket on the couch, the one that smells a little bit like everyone… Chan’s hoodie, of course. Seungmin’s stuffed animals and Felix’s pillow get thrown into the mix. Changbin’s gym clothes, Jisung’s squishmallow, Minho’s dirty sheets… it’s almost perfect, though you almost cry when you find out that Jeongin just recently washed his favorite shirt. You knew it was the one thing that was missing from your nest, and maybe it was the hormones or the pain but that almost seemed like the last straw for you. Jeongin soothes you with his alpha pheromones and promises to heavily re-scent the shirt for you, which will have to do. Once the nest is an amalgamation of every smell swirling together you can’t help but roll around in it. You even find yourself starting to purr.
When Chan opens the door to the den, you find yourself wanting to show your pack alpha the nest that you’re so proud of.
“My nest. My nest, alpha, see?” you ask, grabbing his hand and inviting him into your nest.
“Beautiful nest,” he tells you. You squirm in excitement and smile wide at him. “Did such a good job, omega. Are you ready to invite the other alphas in too?” You nod at him excitedly, your scent sweetening as your alphas enter one by one. With you at the middle of your nest and an alpha on either side of you, two strong pairs of arms engulfing you and three more alphas on each side, you fall asleep with your omega purring in excitement.
“She fell asleep,” you barely hear Felix point out.
“She must be emotionally exhausted. Building her nest probably took a lot out of her. She needs us now.” You smile contentedly, happy to be surrounded by the people you love before the throes of your heat take over.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You wake up to a delicious feeling between your legs. You let out a whine as you grind against whatever you feel behind you and it’s only the muffled groan you hear that truly stirs you from your sleep-filled haze.
“Minho?” you squeak. Sitting up and looking around you, you realize everybody else is still asleep.
“Mm,” he replies. You feel your face flush in embarrassment and you quickly go to hide your face behind your hands once you realize what you had been doing. He’s quick to grab your hands and put them at your sides, his cat-like eyes boring into your own. “Your heat’s really started, yeah?” You nod pathetically at him, clenching your thighs together to get a little bit of relief. “You can keep riding my thigh if you want to,” he suggests. You squeak when his hands take purchase on your hips, pulling you on top of him. Any protest gets stuck in your throat when his thigh slots in between your legs, placing pressure where you desperately need him most.
You rock your hips back and forth slightly, scanning Minho’s face for any judgment. Instead, you catch a whiff of his scent spiking in arousal, his black tea and vanilla smelling remnant of a coffee shop. You can’t help but bury your face in his neck, inhaling deeply to better consume his smell. Tiny moans are punched out of you as he guides your hips into him, grinding you back and forth on his thigh. You know you have slick pouring out of you but you can’t seem to care when he feels this good.
You can tell he’s restraining himself–he must know this is your first time doing anything, really. You've been fighting the urge to kiss him for too long but the sight of his lips caught between his bunny teeth is too hard to resist. You lurch forward, connecting your lips together despite the way your heart beats erratically. The way you squirm against him and the friction of his muscled thigh against your leg, it just isn’t enough. You need more.
You smell a familiar wave of stormy petrichor and Chan is pulling you off of Minho’s leg before you can protest. He maneuvers your body effortlessly, getting you in the exact position he wants you–lying on your back, knees propped up. His lips trail down your body for a moment, meeting your neck to breathe in your caramel scent. He licks over your scent glands for just a moment as if he were actually ready to devour you, but Minho thankfully quiets your moan with a quick peck to your lips.
Chan trails lower and lower still until he reaches your shorts, pressing long, open-mouthed kisses to your thighs that has your head spinning.
His hand reaches between your shorts, fingering your clothed core. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, examining your expression. You nod apprehensively. “I want to use my mouth on you, pretty girl. If you feel uncomfortable at any time or want me to stop, just let me know, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper. That’s enough for Chan to slip your shorts and panties down your legs in one fell swoop, his fingertips hot against your skin. You immediately feel the urge to close your legs, especially since you know you’re dripping an obscene amount of slick, but Chan’s strong hands keep them open. The alpha shoots you a gaze that spreads hot throughout your whole body, stern in letting you know not to hide from him. Minho’s hand strokes your face, bringing you back to earth while you relax into his touch.
When Chan’s tongue licks up your slit and attaches itself to your clit, it’s like electricity spreads through your whole body. You moan into Minho’s hand which has quickly attached itself to your mouth, muffling your noises.
“Shhh,” he reminds you. You seem to have forgotten that there are six other alphas sleeping in the den at the moment and you’re grateful for his save. “If you want us to stop, blink your eyes three times,” he murmurs. You nod your head, eyes wide. Chan continues to lap and suck at the bundle of nerves between your legs, his fingers coming to grab the slick that spills out of you. Rather than pushing his fingers into you like you expected him to do he softly circles your entrance, getting you used to the feeling. Between Minho working you up on his thigh earlier and the liquid hot desire that you had been fighting off all day, it doesn’t take much to bring you to the edge.
You can’t help but rock your hips into his face, seeking out more pleasure until his hands hold your hips down effortlessly. “Stay still,” he murmurs. “Take what I give you.” And you do—you take and you take and you take, relishing in every swipe of his tongue and calculated touch. When Minho reaches down to grab your breast over your shirt, thumbing at your nipple, you finally come apart. The two alphas help you through your orgasm, Chan watching you intently from his spot between your legs. He only parts from you with a soft pop once you’re done squirming and your ragged breathing has slowed.
Finally you notice the smell in the room. It would have been easy to miss over your sweetened caramel and brown sugar, but sure enough— jasmine, lavender, rose, bergamot, sea salt, lime. It must be your heightened sense of smell that causes you to easily pick up the scent of the other six alphas, all in various states of rousing from their sleep. As if on instinct, your scent spiking during your release must have awakened them.
When Felix opens his arms you gratefully accept his embrace. He has always smelled like the ocean, comforting and refreshing, but the scent comes out much saltier now. You can tell he’s trying to hide just how affected he is.
“Hi Lix,” you mumble into his chest. He rubs soothing circles on your back. Your emotional connection has always run deep with Felix, even before he asked to court you. His touch and scent has never failed to comfort you, not even now. If he notices your lack of clothes he certainly doesn't comment on them, though you’re not sure if it’s for your sake or his own.
“Was that okay?” Chan, ever the attentive and protective leader feels the need to ask. His alpha is running wild with the need to check in on you, pleasure you, dote on you… “How do you feel?”
“Good,” you answer with a small smile. “Felt good.”
You squirm in Felix’s lap a little. “Then why do you look so embarrassed, baby?” Whelp. You weren’t expecting for him to read you like an open book.
“S not enough,” you mutter. Chan blinks at you for a moment, prompting you to go on. “I feel like I need something more…”
“Awww,” Changbin coos. “Baby, do you need an alpha to pop a knot in you?” You find yourself letting out a small gasp at his words, red hot desire burning through your system. That’s exactly what you need.
You lean towards Changbin and slot your lips together. He certainly wasn’t expecting it but eagerly accepts it and you moan into his mouth, not caring about the seven other alphas in the room currently watching.
“Do you want a knot?” You’re not even sure who asked the question but you nod so enthusiastically that someone behind you snickers.
“Who do you want, baby?” Chan asks you. You only have to ponder for a second before the answer is clear.
“Changbin,” you confess. Maybe it was because he was the first one who suggested it or perhaps his tone, the slight condescending lilt in his voice driving you wild with desire.
Chan hesitates for a moment and you freeze. Did you say something wrong?
“I wouldn’t recommend that for your first time, love,” Hyunjin recommends gently. You furrow your brow and your scent must sour at his words—your omega already set her sights on him and you didn’t want anything to interfere. You whine in response.
“Why?” you pout.
“Changbin is, uh, the thickest one here? Um, it’ll be hard to take him for your first time.” Hyunjin flushes while you process his words. Oh. Oh.
You know that the eight of them have been involved, some moreso than others who had previously established relationships in the group, but such an intimate response from Hyunjin surprises you for some reason. Unfortunately, his words don't quite sway you the way that he had hoped. If anything it makes you squirm even more thinking about the way he would fill you up deliciously.
“Please,” you beg, though you don’t even know what you’re begging for.
“Why don’t you start with Lixie?” Chan suggests. His words hit you hard when you realize you’re still in the alpha’s lap. Felix, your Lixie and his sea salt and sandalwood and gentle touches…
“Felix,” you whisper into his ear. “Can I have you?” His eyes are blown wide due to lust and his scent spikes, telling you all you need to know but you wait for him to answer anyway.
“Of course,” he drawls. His voice has always sent sparks right down to your core but even more so now, you can’t help but instinctively grind into him, causing both of you to let out a low moan at the sensation. Felix pulls down his sweats, the only layer of clothing separating you two, and gently lowers you down to the floor of your nest. You spread your legs open for him and watch as he stares at your glistening core; you have no time to be shy though, not when you’re so desperate that you start to whine. Felix lets out a low laugh before guiding his length between your legs, teasing your entrance with his tip. He pushes into you slowly and waits for you to adjust, your heat fluttering around him and your eyes rolling into the back of your head in bliss.
“Move,” you tell the alpha, and he’s gentle in the way he rocks his hips into yours, slow but deep. Both of your scents swirl around the room overtaken by your arousals and you can’t help but think it smells like salted caramel, and the thought of how perfect your scents compliment one another has you going crazy. “More,” you tell Felix as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your eyes flit to the other alphas in the room who all watch you intently, causing your body to flush more than it already was. Chan’s eyes bore into you and cause you to shudder, but when Felix presses his thumb to your clit and starts to go faster you lose your focus on the other alphas.
He works you up surprisingly fast and he presses his body closer to yours when you start to writhe underneath him. “So good, omega,” he grunts. “Perfect, sweet omega doing so good for their alpha.” You don’t warn him before you cum because you yourself are not expecting it. Felix looks like he’s trying so hard to hold back and work you through your orgasm but there’s only one thing on your mind.
“Knot, alpha,” you beg him. “Knot me, please.” Two more harsh thrusts and Felix spills into you, locking his knot into place as you continue to come undone around him with a loud cry. He brushes your hair out of your face and lowers his body onto yours, rearranging your figures into something more comfortable while you wait for his knot to go down. You sigh content in his arms, already feeling more satisfied than just moments ago.
“You okay?” Felix asks and you hum in approval. You felt more than okay but you didn’t know how to express that.
“Thank you, Lixie,” is what you say. You lay in his arms, trying not to squirm or think about his thick knot buried in your cunt lest you start to get yourself worked up again.
“Jesus,” Jeongin finally says, breaking the silence. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Everyone snickers at the youngest, eager alpha and you can tell he’s not lying, a sizeable bulge in his joggers to prove his point. You try not to salivate.
“C’mere,” you tell the youngest alpha. He looks at you with wide eyes and practically crawls to you, bringing your face into an unexpected, messy kiss. Jeongin has always smelled very citrusy, like lime and grass. His scent reminds you of summer and you fail to restrain from sticking your face right into his neck, licking at his sensitive scent glands.
“Hi, baby,” he coos. He tries to act nonchalant and unaffected by your actions but his breathing tells another story. You palm at the bulge in his pants and he lets out a small gasp, not expecting it. He watches as you desperately try to get his pants down and reveal him. “Whatcha doing?” he asks finally. “Lixie’s cock isn’t enough? It’s still buried inside you, baby.”
You flush at his words, feeling hot all over. As if to punctuate his point, Felix pulses from where he is inside you, causing you to let out a low groan. “Wanna touch you,” you pout.
“Yeah?” he smirks. He wastes no time now in pulling down his joggers, watching as your gaze is transfixed on his cock. It’s endearing, he thinks, that you’re suddenly so obsessed with him and making him feel good. Once revealed your jaw drops at his length; long and skinny but pretty, just like him. You reach your hand up to touch him, to wrap your hand around his girth but he slaps your hand away lightly. He tsks at you, instead pushing his hips forward to rest his cock on your lips, tapping it against them for good measure. “Come on, baby, you can take it,” he urges. With the innate urge to please your alpha you open your mouth and suckle on the tip, tasting his pre-cum coating your mouth. He’s delicious, just as you would have assumed, and you moan around him as he pushes forward slightly.
Felix curses behind you; you suppose that in your quest to help out the alpha in front of you, you’ve been slowly grinding your hips into the alpha still locked into you with his knot. You couldn’t help it, really, the sight in front of you is just too arousing to be helped. But Felix’s hands grab a hold of your hips, stilling you.
“Just one more minute,” Felix groans. “My knot… it’s starting to go down.” His voice is pained from overstimulation and so you do the best you can to not move a muscle despite the way the heat between your legs pulsates with need. You focus on Jeongin instead, bobbing your head forward and backward in an attempt to get all of him in your mouth. One of his large hands takes place in your hair, grabbing it but not harsh enough to hurt. It’s just enough for him to be able to take control of your head, using you to take over his own desires. Even still the alpha restrains, not pushing far enough into your mouth for you to choke. When you open your eyes to stare at Jeongin above you he is the epitome of beauty, his toned abs and v-line prominent from where his shirt is now lifted with the corner placed into his mouth. He looks downright sinful with the way he stares down at you with dark eyes.
You’re manhandled the second that Felix finally pulls out of you. A pair of hands are on your hips and you’re being pulled off of Jeongin and onto all fours, another alpha pushing into you before you have time to truly comprehend what is going on. The smell of roses and vanilla floods your senses and you know that it’s Hyunjin’s doing, eager to please you and fill you up before you have to beg someone else to do so. You’re thankful you can reach Jeongin even better in this position with no need to crane your neck. Jeongin pushes in once again, using your mouth as Hyunjin rocks his hips into you from behind.
You feel so full like this, your head starting to feel cloudy when the only thing you can see, smell, or feel are your two alphas. They set up a brutal yet sturdy rhythm between them, Hyunjin in your guts at the same time Jeongin hits the back of your throat. You feel something wet run down your face and Jeongin coos when he sees the tears from your lower lashes start to spill, quick to run his thumbs on your cheeks to wipe them away. He grabs your hair and pulls out, holding you up as he asks if you’re alright. You nod and shut your eyes again, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. The only thing you crave at this moment is your alpha and his cock, the need to be thoroughly used for his pleasure while Hyunjin gives you pleasure of your own overwhelming.
Jeongin chokes out a breathy moan when he’s close, spewing praises in your ear that are downright filthy. His grip on your head gets a little more harsh and your face is straight against his pubic bone as he rocks his face into yours two, three more times until he’s spilling his warmth down your throat.
“Fuckk,” Hyunjin groans from behind you. “She’s so tight, she’s clenching around me.” Before you even have time to recuperate, Jeongin is pressing his mouth into yours in a searing, messy kiss. You moan straight into his mouth, unexpecting of the sudden affection.
“You gonna cum baby?” he whispers, a sly grin on his face. “Gonna cum on alpha’s knot?” Your eyes roll back in your head, focusing on the pleasure building up. You rock yourself back onto Hyunjin’s cock, feeling the precipice of your orgasm.
“Close,” you warn. “Hyunjin, please…” Jeongin grabs your chin and makes you look up at him and the sight of the alpha above you…
You and Hyunjin come apart at the same time, your powerful orgasm shaking through your body and causing his knot to slot in place as he releases inside of you with a groan.
Your ears start to ring with the power of your orgasm and you vaguely recognize Hyunjin lay you down on your stomach, his body slumping on top of yours as gently as he can muster. Someone strokes your hair and you lean into their touch, sighing contentedly. When Hyunjin finally pulls out you let out a whine of protest but somebody pulls you into their arms, holding you close. You’re rocked back and forth as someone whispers into your ear and it’s soothing. You’re surprised when the smell of lavender and laundry hits your nose because Seungmin has never been this gentle or doting on you before.
You blink your eyes open to see him staring softly down at you. It makes warmth flood your heart because you and Seungmin… have always had a playful, teasing relationship full of banter. He wasn’t one to coddle you or necessarily go out of his way to say kind things to you. He was more the type to show his love through actions than through physical affection or words of affirmation. Like memorizing your coffee order, giving you his hoodies to wear, folding your laundry for you when you’ve had a bad day, or taking you out to the arcade or to watch baseball games with him. His love was often unspoken and so the way he holds you so close to his chest, it makes light tears flood down your face with adoration.
“Seung,” you whisper. His hand strokes through your hair. He must be feeling a certain type of way, or rather, knows this is exactly what you need right now. Especially as a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen and he cradles you even closer.
“You feelin okay?” he asks, voice laced with concern. “You can take a break if you need to.” You shake your head, the proposition of not having every one of your alphas distressing enough for a whine to leave your lips. “Hey, we’re not going anywhere, pup,” he tells you. “If you need an alpha cock that bad, there are eight of them to choose from.”
There’s the Seungmin you know. You hate to admit how his words are sent straight to your core. You’ve always loved your banter and teasing nature, and right now it has you red hot to your bones. You feel the slick pour from your legs and you whine again, shoving your head straight into his neck.
“You’re gonna act all shy now?” he scoffs. “Gonna act like you didn’t just choke on Jeonginnie’s cock ten minutes ago?” Your body burns at his words and you squirm in his lap, causing him to chuckle. “I can give you what you need if you ask nicely, pup,” he tells you, laying you flat on your back. You cover your face with your hands and he growls, pinning your arms at your sides.
“Please,” you whimper.
“That was pathetic,” he laughs. “You can do better than that.”
“Seung, please,” you babble, squirming desperately beneath his gaze. “Want you… need you please alpha, it hurts, want your knot, please take care of me…” Well, that seems to be exactly what he was looking for as he lets out a pleased shudder at your words. You watch, licking your lips as he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down just enough to let his cock out. He teases it against your folds but doesn’t make you wait long before he pushes in, gentle but deliberate in his need to satiate your desires.
You let out a content moan at being filled by him. His arms on either side of your head, he starts rocking his hips into yours. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he softly grinds into you.
When you hear a wet sound behind you, you immediately turn your head. Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Jisung on his knees with Minho’s cock shoved down his throat, one hand gripped harshly in his hair as he maneuvers him the way he wants. The sight is sinful, pornographic, nauseatingly attractive as your boyfriend looks so pliant and submissive for the other.
A light smack to your face draws your attention back to Seungmin. “Dumb omega,” he says in a teasing lilt. “Pay attention to the alpha that’s fucking you, yeah?” You nod pathetically at him, trying hard to concentrate despite the lewd sounds that come from behind you. He makes it so easy to pay attention though, his cock bullying in and out of you in a way that has you seeing stars. You’ve always wanted to see him like this, for him to lose his composure because of you. And he’s still holding together so well, barely audible panting and low groans escaping his throat when his hips slam against yours just right… You want more, though. You want his smug grin to be wiped off of his face, want to see him lose himself to the pleasure in the same way you are. Right now, ‘this is for you,’ is what he’s telling you, and though he’s feeling good he’s only focused on you, his omega, and fucking her dumb through her heat because that’s what you need. You’re leaning up on your elbows before you can process it and pulling him into a messy, wet kiss–one that distracts him long enough for his pace to falter and for you to push him onto his back.
“What–” Seungmin starts, taken aback. His eyes widen slightly and his brow furrows in confusion but you’re taking charge of your pleasure now, using him while showing him you’re not all dumb omega, that you can take care of him just as well. You grab his hands and place them onto your breasts, squeezing around his hands so he gets the point to hold them the way you want. And he immediately responds, kneading the flesh and thumbing around your sensitive nipples.
You start rocking your hips and the satisfaction you get when he lets out a groan and throws his head back is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You want him to make that sound again and again, want to ride him until you make him pop his knot inside you. And when your hips slam up and down into his, completely setting the pace and feeling his big cock hitting all the right places inside you, you feel smug. Smug because Seungmin has his eyes closed in pleasure, his mouth open and panting, unable to control where he puts his hands. The stoic, smarmy alpha act is gone and now all he can focus on is your tight pussy and the pleasure you give right back to your alpha. And you’ve always loved his voice, his singing beautiful and melodic in all the right ways, but now… Now? You would hear those pitchy whines every day for the rest of your life if you could.
The best part about this new position is that it gives you a perfect view of the show you were missing. As you bounce rhythmically on Seungmin’s cock you eagerly watch your Sungie get his throat fucked relentlessly. His big round eyes are scrunched shut, face dripping saliva and tears as he moans around Minho’s cock, pistoning into him at a brutal pace. The hand is still tight in Jisung’s hair, effectively holding him in place for him to just use… And Minho’s face is cat-like, predatory with narrowed eyes and a sly grin. You clench around Seungmin, losing your pace as you turn your focus to the show in front of you, your heart beating rapidly when Minho turns to look you in the eye and watch the way you chase your own pleasure. A thin glean of sweat coats his features and when Jisung gurgles around him, making a lewd pathetic sound, Minho throws his head back with an open mouth. You think it might be the most beautiful scene you’ve ever witnessed in your life. Then Minho pulls his cock out of Jisung’s mouth with a wet pop, and Jisung sticks his tongue out as if expecting what comes next. When Minho finishes all over Jisung’s face and eagerly laps up what he can, you cum too, the sight too irresistible to ignore the way your body wants to respond to it. And so you grind yourself against Seungmin again and your pussy squeezes him so deliciously, as if trying to milk out every last drop. It’s no surprise he follows suit, pumping you full of his release as his knot settles comfortably at your entrance.
You let out a loud, dramatic sigh as you collapse into Seungmin’s arms, relishing in the way he strokes your hair and draws little symbols on your back. There he is–the soft Seungmin that's comforting and caring, and not the Seungmin you usually see on a daily basis. You’ll take it, never one to complain about cuddles or a little gentle caress from your alpha. You nuzzle into his neck, letting that fresh lavender smell overwhelm your senses as you relax. You even start to doze off a little bit, your muscles tired from overexertion and your head nestled comfortably in the crook of Seungmin’s neck. Even though you’re both a little sticky from sweat, your bodies feel like they were meant to be pressed together like this.
It doesn’t take long for Seungmin’s knot to deflate but you find yourself letting out a whine in its absence. “Shhh, pup,” you hear him coo. You vaguely find yourself thinking you want more, need more but you’re flooded with the potent scent of petrichor that makes you feel so pliant and sleepy you can’t help but succumb to sleep. You want to whine, curse Chan for using his pheromones on you but you can’t bring yourself to when you feel a wave of security and comfort engulf your senses.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You’re in an in-between state where you can hear what’s going on around you but you can’t move, limbs and eyelids too heavy and protesting the signals your brain is sending.
“That was so hot,” someone says, barely audible. That at least floods you with warmth and satisfaction–your pack thinks you’re hot.
“I feel bad for making her fall asleep but she needed it, she was starting to push herself,” someone says, changing the subject. You can at least put two and two together and figure that it’s Chan expressing his regret. “Even if she sleeps for a few minutes, her body needs it.” Someone else hums in agreement.
“Was mean,” you slur. You slowly regain use of your extremities, fingers twitching then your whole hand. It takes some effort but you’re able to rub the sleep from your eyes.
“Sorry baby,” Chan sighs. He strokes your hair with deft fingers and you think you can forgive him, just this once. It is your first ever heat, after all, and who would you trust but your one and only pack alpha?
“You owe me one,” you say with a pout, and you open one eye to shoot him a playful glare.
“Anything,” he concedes. “But I think you have other company.” As you sit up and wiggle away from a sleeping Seungmin’s grasp, you notice the subject in question. A whiny, squirmy Jisung, eyes flickering between you and Minho at rapid speed.
“Please, hyung,” he squeaks. “She’s awake now, please? I’ll be good. I’ll be so good,” he babbles. Minho just watches with his arms crossed and squints at you, the hint of a grin splaying on his face. When he waves his wrist dismissively at the younger alpha he all but leaps into your arms. He kisses your face wet and erratic and you realize he smells more like Minho’s vanilla than his own bergamot. That thought alone, that Minho has already laid his claim on him is enough to have you squeezing your legs together, remembering the scene from not long ago.
His arms grope every part of your naked flesh within reach and you feel thoroughly felt, thoroughly wanted. You moan his name and babble and grab him back, arching your back in an attempt to press your core against his. He doesn’t protest–you’re so wet that his length accidentally slides into you and makes a loud squelching sound that causes you both to squeak. When Jisung ruts into you it’s desperate, messy and all-consuming. He barely pulls out before pushing back in, trying to savor the feeling of being inside you without having to fully leave.
A hand on his shoulder causes him to jump and it’s Minho with his devious smile. He still wants to have control over the situation, over Jisung, and his presence serves as that reminder. “Don’t you dare think about cumming before your omega,” he orders. “Only pathetic alphas can’t please their omegas, right Sungie?” Jisung nods frantically, his grip on your hips both bruising and grounding.
You’re not expecting Minho to bend down and start lapping at your clit so it takes you by surprise, your legs thrashing out only to be held in place by the two alphas. His precision counteracts Jisung’s reckless abandon, his eyes narrowing and darting between watching you and Jisung. As if to add fuel to the fire, he occasionally tongues at your entrance making sure to pay attention to Jisung’s length pistoning in and out of you.
“Good job,” Minho purrs condescendingly. You’re rocking your hips up in a desperate attempt to get Jisung deeper, to feel Minho’s tongue right where you want it. “Look at how you’re making our baby omega feel.” Jisung’s eyes are half-lidded at the alpha’s statement, his tongue sticking out as he pants and whines.
“M close,” you warn Jisung. You watch him closely, no longer paying attention to Minho or his actions.
“Oh god,” he whimpers. “Please, please cum. I’m gonna–gonna fill you up so good. Gonna cum so deep, can’t hold it anymore, y/nnie, please–”
Your orgasm crashes over you and Jisung explodes the second he feels you clench around him. He cums and cums and you feel his warmth so deep inside you, his cock pulsing as his release hits him just as hard as yours. His knot locks in place and you both let out a sigh of relief. He collapses onto you and you hold him tight, watching Minho rub circles into his back and your face alternatively. At one point Minho reaches in between yours and Jisung’s bodies just to thumb at your clit which makes both you and Jisung whine at the oversensitivity and for Minho to smile devilishly.
You think Jisung might have fallen asleep by the way his breaths even out, not even budging when his knot finally deflates. When you shoot Minho a frantic glance he is already moving, taking Jisung in his arms and prying him off of you. Though he whines at the separation he immediately curls up into Minho’s arms so he can’t be terribly distressed.
You throw an arm over your eyes and smile. You even let out a light laugh because how can this feel this good? How can your alphas take such good care of you, be with you during your first ever heat (which is supposed to be stressful), and make it so comforting and pleasant?
You smell jasmine and patchouli before you even see Changbin and you already want to press your legs together. Changbin is the thickest one here, Hyunjin had said. It’ll be hard to take him. You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge but you’re already second guessing yourself when Changbin fills you up with his thick fingers. Just two of them and you feel so full, but then he pulls his fingers out and sucks Jisung’s release from his fingers. The sight is almost obscene but your heart rate picks up, clearly intrigued by his actions.
“Want a taste?” he asks with one eyebrow quirked. You open your mouth and then shut it again before nodding at him shyly. You’re expecting for him to reach down in between you again, to find more of that white substance to scoop up and feed you but instead he leans forward, grabbing your jaw by the hinges and forcing your mouth open.
“Tongue out,” he demands. You do as you're told, sticking your tongue out as wide as it will go. Changbin leans even closer and spits directly onto your eagerly waiting tongue before lightly slapping your face, signifying for you to close your jaw and swallow. You do taste Jisung a little bit, a bitter mix of salt and his signature bergamot smell. For good measure, you stick your tongue out again to show Changbin that you swallowed every last drop. He smiles at you and you return it happily until he pulls down his pants.
Fuck.
They weren’t kidding–he was thick and long, his girth almost resembling a can of soda. You crawl backwards instinctively, wanting to say something intelligent like ‘there’s no way that’s going to fit inside of me.’ Of course, no words form and Changbin responds to your hesitation by grabbing an ankle, pulling you towards him alarmingly fast.
“It’s okay,” he coos. “Alpha will take good care of you, alright?” You whimper but nod your head, watching as he drags his length up and down your center. He positions his tip at your entrance and you can already feel the stretch. You’re well-lubricated with enough slick and cum now to at least make it a little easier–you’re not sure how you would manage without–but you still feel inch by inch stretch you out.
“Big,” you complain, squirming under his intense gaze. You can tell he wants to make some snide remark in return but instead he just blushes, his ears turning red to indicate your words have some sort of effect on him.
Finally he’s seated all the way inside of you and if you look down you can even see the slightest bulge in your tummy. He must see it too because he groans and flings his head back.
“Woah,” Hyunjin comments from somewhere behind you. “That’s so hot. He’s in her guts.” You laugh as Changbin says something filthy to him in return.
He hasn’t even started moving yet, staring at the bump in your stomach. When he presses down on it you both moan, the pleasure heightened.
“Look at that, babe,” he instructs. “While I fuck you full watch the way my cock hits your little tummy.” He starts in earnest then, the way he thrusts into you at full force enough to knock the air out of your lungs. He punches little noises out of you every time your hips connect though he’s not exactly quiet himself.
“That’s gonna be me next,” someone whispers in your ear. You look up to find an intimidating Chan lingering over you and he grabs you, positioning himself right behind you so he can hold you still while whispering improper words in your ear. “Gonna fuck my omega so good, hmm? Gonna stuff you full of my cock over and over again.” You squirm but he has a vice grip on you, leaning forward to nibble on your ear. His hot breath against your skin has your body running hot but you feel him everywhere, smell him and his petrichor with every breath you take. Even while Changbin is fucking the living daylights out of you Chan is there, distracting you from every other sensation. “Take what we give you,” he snaps when you move again. “Are you so cock-drunk and greedy that you won’t listen to your alphas?”
You shake your head, tears pricking at your lash line. “No, Channie, alpha, I’ll be good, gonna be good,” you promise. Changbin grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half while he bullies his cock in and out of you.
“Too much,” you wail at a particularly deep thrust and you hear Changbin scoff.
“Too much?” he mocks. “You don’t think your alphas know what’s too much for you? Silly omega.”
His words cause your toes to curl and your body to tense and before you can even warn him you cum around him so tightly you swear you black out for a second.
“So tight,” he comments and you let out a high-pitch sound and close your eyes tight while your orgasm continues to pulse. He fucks you so hard and fast through it that your body is overwhelmed and fuck, you’re cumming again.
Chan and Changbin both watch as your release squirts out of you, covering his lower abdomen and causing him to glisten in a way that’s obscene. But boy did that do something to Changbin, the scene so hot that he pushes his hips into you one final time and stills as he finishes. You cry out when his knot locks into place, not used to an intrusion that large and you think there’s no way you could move, you’re just too full.
When you lean your head back you see Chan smiling at you with a glint in his eyes you’d never seen before.
“What?” you ask him as he leaves small touches along your body, paying close attention to your collarbone and shoulder.
“Nothin,” he responds quickly. He waits a beat and then… “You need to take a break before we start? Need to take a nap?” It’s sweet that he’s checking in on you when you know he’s been dying for a chance to ravage you, his scent giving him away.
“Not a chance in Hell,” you laugh. “Alpha, you better fuck my brains out or I’ll find someone else to do it.” You’re bluffing and you both know it, his eyes darkening at your attempt to rile him up. You’ve heard about Chan and his tendency to get in these moods, his need to put people in their places and essentially… tame them. You knew you could push his buttons and he would show you a side of him you’ve never seen before while simultaneously trusting him to reduce you to a whiney, submissive omega for him. It’s what you wanted. He knew it too. You can tell when he tongues at the inside of his cheek and smiles, looking up at the ceiling as if to calm himself down.
“Cute,” he comments as if he’s talking about you and not to you. “Very cute. But when I have you crying because you can’t cum again and alpha’s cock is too much for you, remember that it was you who tried to be cute, and it was you who riled me up, yeah?” You gulp nervously. Chan looks… predatory, observing you as if determining when the right time is to strike.
“I could’ve been so sweet to you,” he continues on. Your breath catches in your throat. “You could’ve gotten sweet, loving Chan to help you through your heat, to fuck you slow and gentle. But that’s not what you want, right? You want the big mean alpha to ‘fuck your brains out?’
Changbin’s knot deflates and you wrap your legs around him in a last-ditch effort to get him to stay, to maybe fool Chan into believing that his knot is still locked deep inside you. But you’re not that lucky because Chan is quick to laugh and grab your legs, prying you off of Changbin as if you weigh nothing.
“Don’t be smart now,” he warns. “Finish what you started.” He pulls you close to him, sitting you down in his lap on his prominent bulge. He kisses you once harshly before trailing down, sucking a large mark onto your neck right below your scent gland. His teeth nip right where your mating bite would be, teasing you.
Your eyes flicker to everyone else who seems to be watching in awe. Hyunjin has crawled into Changbin’s arms now that he’s available but both of their eyes are glued to you as if watching a cinematic masterpiece.
“He’s so hot when he gets into his ‘alpha’ mode,” Felix whispers to Seungmin. You wanted to agree with him but your senses are so overwhelmed with petrichor and mint. Chan’s scenting you, claiming you as his as thoroughly as he can for the other alphas to see.
“They can’t help you,” Chan comments when he sees you shoot Minho a desperate look. He gives you a fake pout in return. “It’s me and you, omega. Your safe word is pineapple, okay? I will only stop when you say that word, otherwise it’s game on.” You nod at him and he grips your chin harshly, making you look straight into his eyes.
“Words.”
“Yes, alpha.”
Someone lets out a shaky breath.
He’s quick to maneuver you the way he wants, positioning you on your knees with your back facing him. You turn behind you to look at him but he grabs the back of your neck and pushes you face first into your nest. You hear him unbuckling his belt and you want to look so bad, to touch but he positioned you a certain way and you don’t want to disobey already.
Chan says nothing as he pushes his length into you, grabbing your hips and letting out a groan as he bottoms out. He pulls out and slams back in, causing you to lurch forward. Your hands grab at anything, a pillow or t-shirt in order to ground yourself as he sets a brutal pace.
At some point you hear him scoff and he reaches forward and grabs your arms, holding them behind your back. This lifts your face and chest off of the ground and he uses this new leverage to pound into you.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Perfect little cunt. Gonna… fill you up. Gonna make you round with my pups.” You gasp. You would have never thought he had such a filthy mouth and here you are, looking at the unfiltered version of him.
“Chan,” you moan, clenching around him. His thighs slap against the back of yours and you can feel him so deep inside of you that you let out sounds that can only be described as animalistic. Your orgasm builds up so fast that you barely have time to warn him, letting out a loud cry instead. He fucks you through it until the afterwaves have worn off and your head slumps forward. He lets go of your hands and gives you a second to recuperate and then he’s lifting you up again, cradling you in his arms.
You’re about to question what he’s doing before he slides into again and you squeak. He shushes you and grabs your thighs, lifting you up and down on his cock.
“You’ll let me use you, omega, right?” he grunts. “Let me use you like a little toy until I cum?” You nod and blink tears away at the overstimulation–you want to do this, want to be good for him. His grip will likely leave Chan-shaped fingerprints in your hips and that thought alone makes you feel warm, your wolf liking the thought of your pack alpha claiming you for everyone else to see. You throw your head back and Chan lets out a groan as if he’s in pain. “Don’t do that,” he whines. “Don’t show me your pretty neck like that. You’ll make me want to bite you.”
You gasp, your heart beating twice as fast in excitement. You’ve talked about mating bites before, but since the relationship was still so new you had assumed everyone would wait until the courting phase was over. But that thought of being his, belonging to him and the pack?
“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he grins. He bounces you up even higher just to slam you back down onto his cock, relishing in the way your face scrunches in pleasure.
“Her scent spiked,” Seungmin comments intelligently. “She really wants you to bite her.” You want to make a snide remark, to tell him to shut up but nothing comes out besides a broken sound.
“Yeah?” Chan teases. “Would omega like it if I put a bite right… here?” He leans forward and places his teeth right on your scent gland, right where a large hickey was already forming from his previous actions. He bites you, lightly, not enough to mark or seal the bond, but it’s enough to make you cum again.
You’re surprised, he’s surprised, and you practically convulse from the intensity of it. His hips stutter and he falters, clearly taken aback.
“Gonna… gonna, fuck,” he gets out. You can tell he was going to say something that probably would have made you squirm from the lewdness of it but he can’t get it out because he thrusts once and then twice before he releases inside of you. He throws his head back and opens his mouth to let out a loud cry and he looks angelic in a sense, a thin sheen of sweat covering his features and thick muscles that makes him look like he’s glowing. You help the best you can, weakly lifting your hips to help him ride through his orgasm but his knot locks into place and he holds you so tight in his arms you think you might suffocate. He cradles you towards his neck and places you right into his scent gland and a sense of serenity washes over you.
You’re thoroughly spent. You feel satiated, no longer thinking about your pleasure or the desire that had overcome you. You can rest and you very well could fall asleep in Chan’s arms right now, with his cock still seated inside you but you know his protective inner alpha would never let him. Jeongin brings you water to drink out of a straw and you oblige, drinking every last drop in record speed. Minho is close behind with a sandwich–when did he even leave the nest? But he hand-feeds you every bite as you breathe in the scent of your eight boyfriends. Your nest smells like love. It smells like home, like the eight people who have vowed to take care of you.
Chan hears you sniffle and immediately tenses. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Are you hurt? Was I too rough?”
You laugh as you pry yourself away from his neck to look at him, grabbing his face with two hands as you plant a kiss to his lips. When you pull away he gives you a confused look, brows furrowed with pursed lips.
“I just love you,” you confess. “I love you all.” He lets out a sigh of relief when he realizes the tears were happy in nature.
“We love you too,” he replies with a kiss. “We’ll have to talk about this mating thing, you know.” A blush creeps up your face when you remember how eagerly your body reacted to the prospect of getting bit.
“I know,” you answer. “Just… want to be yours.”
“Babygirl you already are.”
When his knot finally deflates a pair of strong arms lifts you off of him. Changbin helps you lay down and Seungmin is waiting with a wet cloth to wipe you clean. You don’t even have to lift a muscle but you do, leaping into the arms of a sleepy but sated Felix. You nuzzle close to him and Jisung clings to your back immediately. You register a flurry of hands and legs all moving together to join the cuddle pile taking place in your nest but your eyes flutter closed and you let out a content sigh.
You knew that one day you would have to get your heat and though you were apprehensive about it, you should’ve known you’d have your pack to help you get through it. You should’ve known it was okay to open up to them about in the first place and you should’ve known they would take care of you without blinking an eye. Now you know and it has only reinforced your love and trust of them.
You fall asleep in seconds surrounded by the warmth of your alphas, your boyfriends, your pack.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
taglist: @lostgirlinthewoodss masterlist thanks for reading <3
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