#...alone is a funny word here though
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I've been feeling things, many things
[This is just me rambling abt my feels again, been feeling bit lost inside myself recently, just wanna yap abt it for a while]
I don't know who I am, like I know who I am but there feels like there more than me here
In my head
In my body
There isn't just me, there's others.
From what I hear there aren't many others, only 3 or 4 more, but that's way more than anyone I know has up in their brains
They have names, they have colours and styles they enjoy...one even has an age...but I'm not that age, this body isn't that age. They enjoy different types of music, different foods and it's so confusing trying to organise how this room should look because everyone has a different opinion
Sometimes they're quiet and sometimes they're loud, they never really do anything, like they commentate my life never personally taking action...but recently one did do something
I lost my cool with a friend, I sent him lots or angry/ hateful messages but I didn't want to be saying that. I held my phone and refused to read what I was writing..but I didn't have to because someone else was, they felt angry, I could understand that, but I wasn't. Jet wasn't angry, but somebody was, and I don't know who else it could be
I never felt so out of myself before, like yeah I've disassociated, I've felt out of control, out of touch, but I've never felt like my body was getting mixed signals, not like this
I'm scared, I don't know what's going on
I'm feeling all these emotions but they're not mine, I'm having all these dream like memories that aren't mine and I just feel so lost
I don't know who I am
But I know who Jet is
I am Jet, but I feel like there are others who respond to my name as though it's their own
#ive tried researching this kinda stuff but its hard#i dont wanna put a lable on myself and intrude on peoples spaces#but i feel so lost and alone#...alone is a funny word here though#seeing as the problem is that i never truly feel alone#im talking to my councillor abt these people#i dont wanna call them voices#cause theyre more than that#they have personalities#but its scary#am i going crazy#questioning plural#plurality#plural community#plural help#questioning system
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when it comes to people who acknowledge and love all sides of jiang xuening, shen zhiyi cannot be forgotten.
yes, dianxia does have a bit of a lovesick filter on when it comes to her beloved ningning, but she also knows who jiang xuening is as a person. she isn’t so blind as to casually miss her fierce temper, ignore her schemes and manipulation, and disregard her poor choices— you can see it in shen zhiyi’s expressions and tone, the concerns she voices, and particularly through her perspective in the novel— but these things could never make her love jiang xuening any less.
shen zhiyi isn’t oblivious. she knows that jiang xuening uses her at times to get what she wants, but what’s important is that she doesn’t care. she never has and she never will, because everything she does is her choice. she only wants jiang xuening to know that she doesn’t have to do anything at all to get her support, because she will always be there by her side, without any conditions attached.
there is no doubt that jiang xuening is the person she trusts most in the world. even if jiang xuening makes a decision she doesn’t particularly agree with, she will still never raise any complaint to her. shen zhiyi trusts that jiang xuening’s judgment and choices are right for herself, even if they’re not right to her, and it’s as simple as that. if there are any consequences, she will be there to resolve them. jiang xuening couldn’t lose her if she tried.
shen zhiyi and xie wei are the only two characters in kunning who see past all of jiang xuening’s sides, good and bad, and still recognize her true heart. the way they love her is different but also the same; if shen zhiyi is her shield, then xie wei is her sword.
and jiang xuening chooses them both.
#jade seal choice scene… if you’re out there… please be out there…#imo the jade seal choice scene absolutely cements this post the most#they better have adapted it word for word so help me god#jiang xuening chooses them both!!!!!!!!! she LITERALLY chooses them both in that scene!!!!!!!!#anyway i could further back up my statements in this post with novel quotes and drama scenes but it’s 5 AM#and zhining in nanzhuang sneaking out of the palace date happens in an hour so. my sources are just trust me#but really though i’ve been here for six months i know what i’m talking about#anyway please don’t forget shen zhiyi when talking about jxn’s harem ❤️ girl is about to raise an army to bring her princess home in ep34/35#宁安如梦#story of kunning palace#shen zhiyi you will always be loved by me <3#dianxia is literally xw’s biggest love rival in the novel and its so fucking funny i recommend reading it for their beef alone#szy (canonically): you don’t deserve her!#xw (murderously; the following words are moreso implied rather than said): SHUT THE FUCK UP!!#jxn (simultaneously outside somewhere talking to zz): 为什么我感觉我错过了一些好戏…
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What a good episode. Maaaaaan
#I can't even start I'd be here forever#It did take me in fact like one hour total to watch it lmoa. It sooooo good!!! The animation is very good#(albeit it's awfully low on brightness at times. But such seems to be the sin of lot of recent media unfortunately)#but I'm not even going to dwell on that. The plot / storytelling is so good. Sooooo god. I adore this arc.#Love the symbolism. I've been saying this for almost two years now (is it really been that long ever since these episodes came out... ) but#I want to write an analysis on the op & ed so baddd. The emphasis on the twilight this episode!!#Like the sun was setting on the detective agency. I love love love the hd. They're so cool in this episode and they're so cool in general.#I ADORE Jouno. I don't feel particularly strongly for sue/giku yet their scenes are so cute and funny. I see why people ship them.#Even Tetchou I don't usually care much about is so !!!!! I love all the hd so much fr!!!!!!!!!!#I love love love Jouno. Like much like it is for Akutagawa I'm very weak for characters that aren't really good people.#But they're still trying to be a better person than they were. And oftentimes they end up doing a terrible job!!#But the fact alone that they're //trying// has me ougheueueueu. Here in this episode you can see Jouno–#sliping very easily in his cruel / sadistic habits. But he is trying to be a person that cares for others! He made good actions in the past#and he will again in the future even though right now he's acting like this! Because improvement isn't linear! I love him tonsss#And DON'T get me started on the ada. Yosano's “Welcome” scene. I love women. I love women. Yosano please one chance#KENJI'S SCENE God I needed this. How could I forget the way this literllyyyyy rewinded my brain when I read the manga for the first time.#That scene is so deep and poignant and so so meaningful I. Oughhh#I am going to run out of tags am I not#Kyouka saving Atsushi!!!!!!! That scene is one of my all time favourites. It makes me soft to remember when the s4 trailer dropped–#I was so overjoyed for that bit of them holding hands :') Rightfully so!!! It's so cute.#Her coming back to save Atsushi. The “don't worry– I didn't kill them” direct towards Atsushi–#that is so so Akutagawa and it sends me insane hhhhhhgggggggggg#Kunikida!!!!! His “I'm not leaving anyone behind”!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm not precisely Kunikida's first fan but aaaaaahhh he makes me feel–#so much for him in this scene!!!!! Mmmhhh one last note would be. It bugs me a little how the ada is defined terrorist by the military–#forces starting this episode? I don't have space to elaborate properly but. An action to be considered terrorism must have clear political–#orientation and goal. Violence alone isn't enought to be defined terrorism. It's an incorrect use of the word#Up to the next episode!!! Can't wait to see more Atsushi 🥰🥰#random rambles#It's late now and probably most are asleep rn... Then I'll be queing my posts for tomorrow probably
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like a month ago a guy told my friend he thought she was cold and disrespectful the day before at a girl's party and since she and i are always together the description has to apply to me too especially because he was talking about a moment where we were talking just the two of us so we reference it 24/7 and the other day we were like this is just like art and patrick who's cold and who's disrespectful...
#and like i say: brf slt#we decided i'm cold and she's disrespectful#i don't think she's disrespectful (i don't think we're cold and disrespectful) but i can see cold for me. because i'm shy#and we agreed on who we thought was ice and who we thought was fire#it's this whole thing we're always like NOW they won't be able to say we're cold and disrespectful (even though it was just the one guy. it#was antifeminist guy if you remember back when we were friendly because i was literally at his place the night he told her that but i had#already left when he told her that. and we were only 4 so it wasn't a big thing with everyone)#and i DON'T like spending time with the people we have classes with without her because even though we're always together and we pretend#we're both known for being cold and disrespectful she's not as shy and awkward as i am and when she's without me she's like normal. i can#spend 10 minutes without saying anything because i'm soooo awkward. but anyway we were added to a groupchat to get a guy a gift because#we've been well not really hanging out but i guess yeah we kind of have been and like we often sit next to each other the three of us when#we all have lunch together he's the guy i said i had a friend crush on the other day. like two weeks ago or three. we were added to the gc#for his birthday gift because his other friends who we don't talk to as much were like wait they're kind of bffs with him so they should#participate too and it's funny because we obviously like him but we were also like since we're bffs with him now they're gonna be like#they're not so cold and disrespectful they talk to people who aren't each other!!!! and it worked. very funny#because we aren't even actually that close like we don't even text. i haven't seen him in a week i haven't talked to him in a week so not#actually bffs. but i understand why they would think we are like we go see movies together etc etc. and also no one but me used the term#bffs😭 but anyway my friend isn't here rn she's in a different town and they were like we're getting together to choose what we're getting#him and i didnt want to go because ive been alone with them without my friend before and sometimes it was terrible like i said i wouldnt sa#a word for like ten minutes i didn't want to go but i went and i spent two hours with them and i had a good time🙏 neither cold nor#disrespectful#i was like we have to do the gift what if we don't then we'll be cold disrespectful AND stingy we'll never come back from that. and i guess#i could have just given the money (it's not expensive) without going today but it's good that i went they'll be like oh she can be semi-#normal even without *my bff*. this sounds like things i would have said in middle school BUT very proud of myself for being kind of normal🙏
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what if reader is a cat burglar and breaks into pitfighter vi’s apartment one night and vi catches her and at first she thinks it’s kinda funny and says “are you dumb? there’s nothing in here worth stealing.” but then she sees how cute and scared reader is and decides to punish her for her actions
CONTENT: Vi x fem! reader, spanking (r! receiving), fingering & oral sex (r! receiving), spit play, hair-pulling, impact play, overstimulation, rough sex, degradation & some praise, dom / sub roles (dom vi, submissive reader), punishment, aftercare in the end
WORD COUNT: 3.1K
A/N: Thank you for the request I loved this one! Also if it's unclear because I only hinted to it, Vi comes back early because she forgot her bandages!! Enjoy<3
Your hands leisurely sift through the jewelry box, fingers brushing against a few rings and necklaces. Then, you feel it. Jackpot. A beautiful emerald, a real emerald necklace. You recall your friend telling you about how Pilties loved their jewels; frisking the accessory out of the box, you didn't expect to find such quality from an undercity home. Once again, another good snag. You smiled to yourself in pride though you were alone and slipped out the window you came out of, onto the night to bring your find to an.. 'old friend.'
The door jingled so comically and shut behind you. There, standing behind a tall desk and in front of shelves of treasures was Harlan: the pawn man of Zaun. He was intimidatingly tall and a snake if you ever did see one, but he was convenient, his building open at all hours of the night. Though most came to sell their own items, he didn't particularly need to know that yours were not technically.. well, yours. All he needed was something to sell up to the top-siders.
"Well, well, well. You've got something new for me today?" Voice so nasal, you'd think he was always in bouts of allergies, but no. Just a natural snake. "Show me what you've got for me, dear."
Your grin was as wide as the Cheshire cat's, "you'll never believe the haul, Harlan."
With raised brows, he bit. "How much?"
"One." Your hands found purchase at the front of his desk, amusingly starting up at his now impatient expression.
"You've come to me with only one item?" He sighed. "Fine, show me. What's so great about your find?"
Your toothy smile only widened, having lured him in for the catch. Then, your nimble hand fished through your pocket, pulling out the fish in question, the emerald shining as if to say, "I cost more than your Zaun home is worth by twice-over."
You had him hooked, and you were happily able to return back to your home with a bag of coins and a few heaps of gold stuffed into your pockets. Once your feet returned back to your humble apartment, you were quick to collapse onto your stiff mattress.
Your life mainly consisted of the routine of thievery. At night, you dressed to cover yourself and bade off to homes to snatch their possessions. From watches to even just coin itself, you were particularly good at going undetected. This was all you knew, and you didn't feel an ounce of empathy. What was fair was fair game, and what wasn't fair were the cards you were dealt with early into your childhood; why should anyone be offered what is simply 'fair', if you are not? You had rent to pay, your own mouth to feed, and everyone in Zaun in fact knew that money did equate to happiness. Everyone in Piltover may have been able to snuff those thoughts down as they mindlessly bought their way through life, leading more extravagance in a nanosecond than any person who'd lived in the undercity could see in a century-length lifetime.
Tomorrow, you thought, would be an even better haul. You usually did not plan through missions, for you were witty and able to go undetected. However, you knew what apartment to pick from tonight. You knew who to pick from, more precisely stated.
Her shoulders were broad, her hair dark. A glint of metal from her piercing flickered through visions, and her betters were smug. Vi was the name all undercity could ever think to talk about anymore. Vi was well-known for her abilities in the ring, and you knew she had a lot of money in her pockets from that. Little did you know that all of the cash went straight to brothels and beer, not to anything you could pick-pocket, though you did love a good quality drink or two.
You planned the perfect burglary: leave before Vi's first fight of the night starts so that she won't be in her apartment for a while, giving you enough time to find yourself her most valuable possessions. Every fight probably lasted under 15 minutes, but that did not include the time she spent at the bar with Loris or preparing for fights, so that added quite some extra time onto however many fights she'd be taking on that night. When you were satisfied with the haul, you would be careful not to leave a trace of yourself anywhere or make any noise that may pin you to the crime; you heard rumors that Vi was sweet on enforcers, and you wondered if that meant that she could possibly make it easier for you to be pinned to all of the robberies in the under-city if she were to ask for it. A trial like that? You'd be easily looking at decades.
You knew that without a doubt, this could go terribly wrong. Not only was Vi disgustingly connected to enforcers, but she was extremely strong. If you were to be caught, your life could be on the line. You weren't weak, but you were in no means fit to take on any pitfights, let alone Vi. However, you were quite foolish and the money from the emerald necklace would only get you so far. Plus, what's wrong with stealing from some enforcer suck-up?
So, you carried out your grand plan. At 8 p.m, the first fight began. Vi had not locked her front door, which surprised you but you were ironically grateful. Made it a lot easier than slipping through a window. Now, here you were, in Vi's apartment.
Taking it all in left you dumbfounded, to say the last. There was almost nothing in sight worth stealing. The room was tinier than you could even imagine; hell, it was smaller than your apartment and that was saying a lot. How in the world does a successful woman like Vi live in a place the size of a college dorm? The bed was hardly a mattress, and all of the valuable items you expected to see within the room were somewhat empty bottles of alcohol, dirty clothes all over the floor, and a few empty plates. Really the only thing worth stealing was the punching bag, but that would be difficult to carry, and you couldn't fit it in any bag you had on you. You momentarily noticed Vi's bandages on the mattress (if you could call it that), which was peculiar knowing that she was known for always fighting with those wrapped around her hands, but you were starting to panic over the fact that you plan was for naught. In a bit of a frenzy, you began sifting through her wooden nightstand's drawers for anything of importance. A flask, a small amount of coins, and a palette of black eye-shadow was all. And then, before you could get a chance to even take those items, you were caught.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" The door slammed. You whipped back around to see her standing a few feet away, looking cautious but not exactly furious.
"I-I..I was just..." Your words seemed to fail you. Everything you could think of, any possible explanation, it all vanished. You thought of coming clean, but she quickly caught you off guard with a burst of laughter.
"Oh my god, are you that thief everyone's been complaining about?! It's you?" She didn't sound even irritated anymore, just purely entertained. You stood, defensiveness creeping into you.
"What's that supposed to mean?!" You shouted, fingers clenching into fists. Okay, so you did not appear to be thief material, to say the least. You didn't look like some big-time robber, only like a 20 year old girl. Still, you almost wished she would've just turned you in. This was humiliating.
"It's just that... you're visiting me of all people? Are you that stupid? There's not a single thing in here even worth taking. You could probably find a mouse who lives in the wall and sell it for more than this place is worth." She laughed once more, looking over your body in a way that made you both offended and somehow hot.
"Oh, please. Says the one who's soft on the top-siders." Your mouth was going to get you in a lot of trouble, it seemed.
Vi's laughed quickly died down, and she began walking towards you. There was nowhere to go but backwards until your back hit the wall. "You wanna say that again, thief? I could have you rot in Stillwater, you know." That threat caused you to begin to panic. You'd heard countless stories of what the guards do to their prisoners, and you didn't think you could even survive an hour in one of those cells.
"I'm sorry, please don't...please don't tell anybody. I'll do anything."
"Anything?" Vi raised a brow at that.
"Yes! I'll do anything, I'll give you all the cash on me, I'll never break into another house again, just..." You were starting to sound desperate, and Vi seeing some cute thief begging, offering her anything at all for her troubles... a wicked idea popped into her brain.
"I wanna fuck you."
"What...?"
"You heard me. I was planning on spending tonight's earnings on the brothel, but you'll work, I guess."
Her demand was met with silence. For some reason, more heat spread through your face at the thought of getting fucked by Vi than you'd care to admit. You knew that if you agreed, she probably wouldn't go easy. Then again, you didn't exactly have a choice. You were in her apartment after trying to take all of her shit. Before you could protest any further, Vi had you pinned against her wall, a hand gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. Her next words were quiet and low.
"Thieves deserve to get punished, am I right?" She let out a small hum at the way your breath hitched, "I mean, 'specially the pretty ones. So what'll it be, sweetheart?"
Your eyes widened at her words. "W-What will...what be?"
Vi laughed, a soft sound. "What'll it be? The enforcer's idea of punishment or mine?"
Your body was already betraying you, heat fluttering in your lower stomach at her words. This was the last thing you were expecting at the previous worries of getting caught, but you had to admit that Vi was hot. She had experience, too. You swallowed and tried to keep a steady voice with her.
"You."
Vi was a fucking maniac, you concluded.
She had you laid naked across her lap, your ass red with her handprint. Her hand spent what felt like hours slamming down onto your ass-cheeks, hitting both with an amount of force you knew that she contained, but didn't expect to feel. Each smack required a number. She forced you to count each and every spank, and if you hesitated for too long or lost count, she would start over. You didn't even remember how many times you were forced to restart because each blow on your rear left you a mess. All the while, she'd throw filthy words at you, somehow causing your pussy to grow wet and drip onto her mattress.
"Whores get punished when they get greedy. You'd know all about that, wouldn't you baby?"
SMACK!
"Every time I spank you, you seem to get even more soaked. A damn mess all over my bed. It's okay, baby. You'll make up for it."
SMACK!
When you were thinking about getting punished sexually, you imagined just a rough fuck. Maybe some heavy kissing and the usual lesbian stuff, not to be bent over this girl's lap and spanked like it was discipline, forced to count and basically stripped of any ounce of dignity your soul had. You had to admit that you loved it, though. The more her hand met your skin, the louder you got. It was absolutely hell, and you looked like it, too. Your hair that was once tied back was frizzy and tangled from the amount of times she'd gripped it to lift your head up. Your eyes were watery, rimmed with tears that reached your cheeks. Your bottom lip was sore and swollen from you biting down onto it to brace yourself for her punishment. Each moment was absolute torture.
And just when you thought it was over, Vi's fingers slipped inside of you, giving you no time to adjust before fucking you senseless. You cried out at the mix of pleasure and pain, trying to squirm away but Vi's hand on your hip kept you right in your place on across her lap.
"O-Oh, fuck!! Vi, please, take it easy on me-" You didn't even sound like yourself now, your voice broken from all of the crying and your words muffled from your face in the mattress. You were so fucking embarrassed, naked on top of this woman's thighs with her fingers thrusting into your pussy like she hated you. You were convinced she did.
"Why should I take it easy on you? You're just a filthy thief who's desperate enough to steal from anyone, and apparently desperate to get fucked." She berated you, voice so unlike what you'd heard before when she was lightheartedly laughing at you for breaking in.
"It's too much, please!! I can't take it.." You pleaded, crying into her pillow. It was too much, that much was true. Each hit to your g-spot wasn't like a brush but instead like a punch to it, and it felt like overstimulation before you were even able to cum yet.
Vi seemed to take mercy on you, at least that was what you assumed.
Her digits slipped out of you, but before you could sigh in relief, she had you flipped over and onto your back, laid out on top of her mattress with your legs spread in a matter of seconds. Soon, one hand returned to your pussy, three fingers pumping into you at a relentless pace as her other hand gripped your chin. Her eyes were dark with something you weren't used to seeing in anyone, and you began to realize why she was so good at fighting - she was fucking insane.
"Open that fuckin' mouth of yours. Right now." You didn't even wait to oblige, quickly parting your lips which were spilling out whines and cries for mercy. Vi spit into your mouth and used her own hand to close your jaw. "Now, swallow."
You swallowed graciously, and a flutter went through you at her taste. She hadn't even kissed you yet, and you now wanted her to. Her saliva was thick with alcohol and iron, perhaps from blood from a previous fight, but you needed more.
"V-Vi, need a kiss.." You begged breathlessly, expecting her to cave.
"You think you deserve a kiss?" You nodded eagerly, trying your best to even maintain the conversation with her fingers picking up in speed. "Yeah? You're getting a kiss after you've learned your goddamn lesson."
Before you could even whine in protest, Vi's head was between your legs, making out with your sopping cunt while three fingers curled to meet your g-spot. "You wanna complain about me fucking you like this, but you're soaking wet enough to take it and this sweet pussy's just clenching around my fingers like she never wants me to leave," she pulled away to remark before diving back in, tongue circling around your swollen bud.
"Oh, fuck!! Vi, no- You're gonna make me cum, Vi!!"
Only, Violet didn't seem to care. In fact, she wanted you to. She wanted you to so that she could do it again, and again, and again.
Vi coaxed the first orgasm out of you with the flat of her tongue and a deep plunge into your stretched-out hole. Each flick of her tongue sent you both squirming away and bucking up into her mouth. Every hit your sweet insides endured had you only gripping at her stained mattress harder. You cried, pleaded, and begged her for more. You could feel her smile against your pussy. She'd give you more, alright.
You were starting to regret your word when her mouth stayed latched to your clit and her fingertips abused your spongey, tender insides. You were practically fucked raw now, ass still red and sore, cries sounding more like a wounded animal than a real girl, and all you could even process was the sensations. You forgot what you came here for, forgot about wanting a kiss. You wanted mercy.
The second orgasm was a brutal paradise. Ecstasy flowed throughout your body in waves until once again, your pussy was feeling the raw overload of pleasure she was dealing you. You didn't remember how many more times this cycle continued, only that by the end of it, your lower half was numb and you recalled through teary vision, her chin coated in your juices and her lips parting to suck the taste off of her own fingers.
When she was finally done with you, she pulled you into her lap and held you tightly. Sure you were a little thief, but a cute one. Vi wasn't a monster. Her hands traced patterned over your back and squeezed you tightly. You sniffled, still coming down from the intensity of it all.
"Shh, you were a good girl 'f me...took it all and now you're here in my lap.." she comforted you, planting her lips onto your hair.
Then, you remembered what you really wanted to feel before you had to leave.
"Can I please get a kiss?" Your head pulled from her shoulder so that you could see her. Vi nearly melted at your eyes staring up at her, so vulnerable and in need of her care.
Of course she leaned in, pressing her lips onto yours with a gentle warmth just for you to have. She didn't rush it or invade your mouth, only spoiling you with her tender affection you craved after her harsh lesson. Her lips made soft smacking sounds against yours, causing you to softly hum against her mouth and lean in closer for more. You needed this stranger's care more than you needed anything else in that moment. When you pulled away, you placed your head onto her bandaged chest, letting her heart beat and sweet coos lull you to slumber. You ended up falling asleep in her arms, and you hoped to come back to her apartment, but rather for her than for stealing. Your body ached with the previous events, but Vi's hold on you didn't leave you throughout the night, squeezing you so softly to hear those sweet, sleepy squeaks.
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| You smack their butt |
Featuring: Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Toji, Satoru Gojo, Nanami Kento, Kamo Choso and Ryomen Sukuna.
Geto Suguru
Crack!
The sound of your hand making contact with his behind was loud and obscene. His eyes widen as he surges forward from the force, hands grabbing the counter in front of him for support.
He whips his head in your direction, glaring at you with a mixture of disbelief and exasperation.
"What the fu-".
"What? so you can do it to me but I can't do it to you?" You snicker, the glimmer in your eye and the way you struggle to contain your laughter all too familiar.
Satoru.
Geto sighed, his hand moving to rub his sore behind. He glared at you once again, mentally noting to stop you from hanging out with the white-haired menace so frequently. His idiocy was clearly rubbing off on you.
Fushiguro Toji
Toji watches in amusement as you recoil, shaking your hand around in pain.
"What the hell are your glutes made of? metal?!"
Toji only grinned ominously as he got up from his seat, setting down his chopsticks. He stretched his arms over his head, joints cracking as he started to warm up.
"Toji...what are you doing..."
He looks up in mock confusion "isn't it my turn?"
"No!..." You squeal, running down the hall away from him. Toji's payback was always 10x what you inflicted.
"Don't start what you can't finish doll..." he chuckles before taking after you with inhumane speed.
Satoru Gojo
Satoru grins and shoves his ass out more, arching his back and making an obscene moaning sound.
"What the fuck is wrong with you" you laugh, half amused, half disturbed.
"Me? You're the one going around and smacking people's butts little lady. What's wrong with you?"
You watch him as he stands upright again, adjusting his shades.
You hum "Not everyone's, just yours."
"Ah...so you admit my derriere had a certain... appeal..." he grins, pulling his glasses down and smiling at you seductively.
You groan, getting up and heading out the room. This was a mistake, Satoru was obviously a shameless freak.
He chuckles chasing after you. "Hey wait! What about round two?..."
Nanami Kento
Nanami's breath gets caught in his throat when he feels your hand land harshly on his behind. He stiffens, glaring into the distance in mortification.
You broke into laughter, covering your mouth before quickly moving to pull him into a hug. "Oh ken...I'm so sorry"
He glances down at you, watching how you're unable to catch your breath from laughing despite being 'sorry'.
His shoulders relaxed despite his embarrassment, and he slowly hugged you back.
He was used to your behaviour by now. Now he was too busy wondering how that delicate hand of yours packed such a punch.
"Yes very funny, I'll have to get you back for that though sweetheart."
Kamo Choso
Leave this poor baby alone omg.
Choso's eyes widen in horror when you smack his ass. He turns around slowly, looking at you in such terror that you can't help but burst out laughing.
He laughs along with you in fear "ha...ha ha...ha" before quickly dashing out the door. "I have to go."
"Choso wait!-" but he's long gone, now you feel worried. Choso was new to a lot of things and you've most likely just terrified him. You sigh, picking up your phone to call him, hoping he'll pick.
Yuji stares at Choso in confusion and growing anger as he explains that you suddenly hit him and that he doesn't know what to do. Yuji is confused because he's never known you to be the violent type.
"Wait, where’d she hit you, Cho?..." Choso flushes at Yuji's question, slowly pointing to his butt.
"Here..."
Yuji can't help himself when he bursts into laughter, here he was thinking you were abusing his brother but you were just being kinky.
Choso returns later that night much to your relief. You jump up, hugging him tightly and apologising profusely when he suddenly smiles and pulls away.
"Its ok lovie...I understand now"
You sigh in relief.
"You're a freak..." He smiles innocently at you, repeating Yuji's earlier words to him, unaware of the connotations.
"...You know what?...yeah"
Ryomen Sukuna
You were currently stuffed in the linen closet, a hand slapped over your mouth to prevent your whimpers of fear from escaping.
What on earth was happening you ask? Well you were hiding from Sukuna because you had the bright idea inspired by a cursed tiktok to smack him on the butt.
You could hear his psychotic laughs of delight as he stomped through the house, looking for you.
He most likely knew where you were but was enjoying this twisted game of chase.
"Oh y/n...come out come out wherever you are..."
Your suspicions were confirmed when he ripped the door open to your hiding space open, lunging toward you.
You shrieked in terror as he grabbed you and hoisted you over his shoulder. Despite the fact that he just spent the last 5 minutes hunting you down like a maniac, Sukuna would never actually lay a finger on you...in a capacity to harm anyway.
He lands a playful retaliation smack as he stalks towards the bedroom with you still slung helplessly over his shoulder.
"My turn..."
Why're boys so jumpy when you smack their butts🙄 they be walking around all caked up too🙄🙄
Enjoyed the story? Check out more of my other jjk fics and more stories!
Requests are open! and don't forget to like, comment or reblog pookie♡
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk headcanons#jjk fic#jjk scenarios#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo fluff#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#toji fushiguro fluff#toji x reader#toji x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna#choso x reader#choso fluff#jjk choso#geto suguru fluff#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto x reader
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expanding on this post, where you kiss gojo and he starts floating
gojo satoru x gn!reader
you’re greeted with the light of dawn streaming in, and the tickle of white tufts of hair against your chin. satoru’s body is curled close, one of his arms and his legs thrown over you.
it’s not the first time you’ve stayed overnight in gojo’s dorm room, but this is your first time staying over now that you’re a couple. it had been like any other night, but more meaningful touches and a shared buzz of warmth in your chests. and you had fallen asleep in his bed, entangled with his coziness.
but it’s morning now, and you know you should probably leave before yaga finds out you’re not in your own dorm. so somehow, you manage to wring yourself free from satoru’s grasp, even though he mumbles sleepily in complaint.
you can’t help but scoff fondly, peering down at him. his hands feel around in the space you had just been, a groan resonating from his chest as he blearily squints.
a small laugh creeps out of you then, “g’morning, ‘toru.” you bend down to brush your lips against his fleetingly, “i’ll see you in class later.”
when you leave his dorm and hear a soft ‘thud’, you think nothing of it. but it’s only a few steps down the hallway that you realize that you left your uniform jacket hanging on the edge of satoru’s bed.
so you head back, knocking twice on the door to let him know about your presence before opening it.
only to see that your boyfriend that you had left on the bed just moments ago was no where to be seen.
your brows furrow. “satoru? where are you?”
“up here, darling.”
and then your gaze flits up, up, up, just above the mattress. it’s gojo, on the ceiling, looking disheveled with his bed hair a mess, a sheepish grin on his lips.
“uhh, satoru?” you approach the bed, no longer concerned about your jacket as you stare up at him. “what’re you doing up there?”
he blinks down at you. “i woke up.”
you snort. “get down.”
“…i can’t.”
there’s a pause of silence, a period of staring at each other. you’re even more confused. “what do you mean you can’t?”
“i just can’t!”
it’s too early for this, and you’re sure that your chance of being discovered by yaga has shot up by a considerable amount.
“gojo satoru. just deactivate your technique.”
he pouts down at you. “you don’t think i tried that? i don’t know what happened, okay? i woke up from head-butting the ceiling, and even worse, to you gone without a word!”
it’s funny, how he’s much more upset about the fact that you had left him in bed alone rather than the fact that he’s stuck up there.
and it’s also really funny that he was sleepy enough that he didn’t remember you kissing him farewell not even five minutes ago.
“‘toru,” you laugh, shaking your head, “i said good morning and i kissed you.”
aaand now he remembers. he blinks once, twice.
“oh.”
and this time, you burst into a fit of giggles, to which gojo dopily grins down at you — happy that he’s the cause of it, even if it’s because he’s a little silly.
“i can’t believe you still floated even with you still half asleep.” you say, inching even closer to the bed and tilting your head further back to look up at him. “can you seriously not come back down?”
usually after he gets kissed, you or someone else is there to ground him before he floats off, and if not, he regains his composure soon after.
satoru’s pout deepens, fumbling and adjusting his awkward position on the ceiling. “nope.”
with a groan, you toe off your shoes and move to stand on the bed, hands grasping at his shirt and tugging in an attempt to bring him down.
“ugh, come on.”
you try with his hands next, and he’s all too eager to twine your fingers together as you tug on them too. he still isn’t budging.
“babe..” he starts, and you hear his cheeky grin before you see it, “think you needa kiss me again.”
you give him a pointed look. “and why in the world would that work?”
“c’mon, trust me,” satoru pries with a slight whine, “you did this, maybe you can undo it.”
you blink at him incredulously. “i did this? it’s not my fault you turn into a balloon every time i-” you shake your head when he does nothing but stare pleadingly. “fine, fine.”
you lean up on wobbly toes to give him the second kiss of this morning. it’s short but sweet all the same, and gojo chases after your lips as you pull away.
“see, i told you it wouldn-”
satoru yelps and crashes down on top of you, the two of you landing smack down on the bed.
you groan, trapped underneath his weight. at least you know now to be extra careful with your kisses. you can feel him nosing at the underside of your jaw teasingly.
“heh, good morning to you too, sweetheart.”
#he’s so silly#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x you fluff#my writing#rain’s writing
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Sunshine and Midnight Rain
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader
word count: 851
summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story
a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING
Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.
You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.
“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.
“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.
“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?
“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.
“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.
“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.
“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”
——————
“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.
You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.
“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.
“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.
“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.
You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.
“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.
“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.
“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.
“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.
“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.
“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.
“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.
“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.
“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.
“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.
“He was always my favorite,” he adds.
“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.
“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.
Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.
“You’re staring, again” You mention.
“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.
You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.
“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.
“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”
——————
It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.
As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.
“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.
“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.
You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”
“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks
“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.
“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.
“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”
And maybe, just maybe, he could.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo#pjo series#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#pjo x reader#pjo x you
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Stories - December 18th - 25 Days of Jegumas - @noblehouseofgay - word count: 288
“So…d’you like him, then?” James whispered to Monty as he carried the last of the dishes into the immaculately clean kitchen, pulling his father aside so the two of them could speak.
The older man smiled, placing his stack of plates into the sink and turning to his son. “He clearly adores you, James. And it’s obvious you love him, and that you’re happy. That’s all I can ask for. Plus, we’d already loved him long before this, with how highly you spoke of him in your letters. And the fact that he likes Potion-making is a clear point in his favor,” he added with a wink.
A funny warmth spread through James’s chest as he sighed in relief. “Oh, good. I-I figured you would like him, he’s…he’s so..just, he’s perfect, after all, but Regulus was so worried, and it got me worried, and-”
Monty chuckled. “I’m sure Effie will insist he comes here for the summer before we even serve dessert, don’t you fret.”
James grinned happily, thinking of the slightly-surly boy sitting in the other room right then. How much he loved him and would do anything for him. How much he deserved peace.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s taking advantage of the alone time, though. Telling him all sorts of stories of when you were young,” Monty continued, gesturing with his chin toward the door.
James gasped. “No. She wouldn’t!” he groaned, taking giant steps toward the kitchen.
But as he opened the door, he heard his mother say, “Oh, I definitely have a photo album around here somewhere, dear, just give me a moment!”
To which Regulus just replied gleefully, “I would love to see that, Mrs. Potter.”
Oh, James was fucked.
#marauders#harry potter#marauders era#marauders fandom#fanfic#harry potter marauders#the marauders#marauders harry potter#marauders fanfic#the marauders era#marauder era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#james potter x regulus black#james and regulus#james potter#james x regulus#regulus x james#regulus and james#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#james loves regulus#regulus deserved better#regulus black x james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#starchaser#sunseeker#euphemia potter#fleamont potter
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₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader
requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)
a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3
cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff
other fics can be found on my masterlist
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.
He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.
And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.
He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.
His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.
“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.
And then he pulled away.
His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”
Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.
“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.
“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.
“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”
Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”
She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.
“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”
She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”
“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”
They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.
But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”
She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”
Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.
“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”
He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.
He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.
“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”
It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.
He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.
She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.
“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.
“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”
His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.
“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.
“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”
Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.
“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.
“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”
The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”
“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”
It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.
She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.
Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.
“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.
She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.
Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.
By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.
“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.
She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.
“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”
She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.
“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”
She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”
Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”
Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.
“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”
She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.
Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”
She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.
“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”
“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”
Sam smiled. “Guilty.”
Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”
He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”
She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x you#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester smut#sam winchester imagine#sam winchester drabble#sam winchester oneshot#sam winchester fic#sam winchester fanfiction#spn#spn x reader#spn one shot#supernatural#supernatural x reader#supernatural one shot
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exquisite weather today, no? | part i
warnings : smut, dom anthony and sub reader, pet names, fluff, ben and colin being little shits, reader is kind of naive given the action takes places sometime in the 1810s.
summary : anthony does not want to corrupt his innocent little wife... but what happens when his brothers lend him a helping hand?
a/n: please enjoy part one of my new series until i am done with the james and sirius fic, thank you! <3
“You are telling me that you have not slept in that way with your wife?” Benedict stops in their way down the halls, looking very much concerned. Anthony hums, checking his clock.
“But you’ve been married for almost a year now!” the younger brother exclaims, looking up at the viscount with a frown.
Anthony smirks and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. “Not that it is any of your concern, but we do things. Together. Alone” his lie is obvious, but still, he leaves Benedict stunned in the middle of the hallway.
When he finally realises that the maids are looking at him funny, Benedict clears his throat and offers them a polite nod, before following Anthony into the drawing room.
Ah, here you are — sitting next to Colin on one of the sofas. With Anthony distracted, speaking to Daphne about the ‘Hearts and Flowers’ ball, he approaches you carefully, sitting beside Colin.
“Exquisite weather today, isn’t it?” he gives you a nod and you mirror his action, smiling, “Indeed it is, Ben.”
Colin looks between the two of you, back and forth, a confused smile gracing his lips. “This is not about the weather, is it?” he whispers through gritted teeth.
Benedict’s smile turns into a grin when the words leave his brother’s mouth. “I am, in fact, glad that you asked, Colin!” he says happily, “I came here because I need some... advice, from Y/n.”
Raising your eyebrows, you look at him in curiosity, “and what could someone such as yourself need advice for?”
Benedict thinks about it for a moment; should he say it? He means no harm but... a little fun won’t hurt... will it?
“Sex” the words leave his mouth and Colin chokes on his tea, eyes wide as he looks back at Benedict. ‘Are you mad?’ he mouths to his brother, but the second-born chooses to ignore him and look back at you. “So. Y/n?”
Benedict finds you looking up at him with wide eyes, lips pursed as you tried to search for that word in your mind, but with no results. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Ben.”
This time, it is Colin looking back at you, a deep frown settling on his face. “Pardon? Anthony is your husband, there is no such thing as not knowing what sex is.. Does he refer to it differently?”
“You know... when you’re alone, naked, and he towers over you. That thing he puts in between your legs” Benedict quips, already very much content of where Colin has taken the conversation.
“He towers over me?”
The two burst out laughing at your cluelessness and, from the other side of the large room, Anthony’s brows furrow in concern.
“His cock, sweetness. What he has between his legs. I’m sure he spoils the crap out of you with it every night” Benedict taunts and Colin laughs breathily, adding on “or maybe he does not, brother. Seeing that Anthony is so busy all the time. He has more important things to take care of, I suppose.”
At this point, your eyes are teary and your hands are shaking as you listen to your brothers-in-law tease you endlessly. You are not aware of the meaning behind it, though.
In a moment, you feel a hand wrap around your waist and pull you up against the warmth of someone’s body; Anthony. As you look up at him, his heart shatters and his jaw clenches. “I do not know what you did, but be sure that I will find out. And when I do, I hope you will be taking a walk far away from here. More walks.”
And with that, he takes you away from his brothers and rest of the family, not bothering to excuse himself or you, his face red with hatred. He doesn’t know what his brothers told you, but he is positive that it managed to hurt you... And Anthony cannot bare seeing you hurt.
His hand grips yours tightly, in a possessive manner, not hurting you. He is always gentle with you, no matter the circumstances.
Once you reach the wooden door, Anthony ushers you into the bedroom with a hand at the small of your back, following closely behind before he closes the door.
“What did they tell you, my love?” his tone is alarmed and so are his hands, twitching at his sides.
When your eyes finally meet his, they are still filled with tears, sadness pulling at your heart. “Am I a burden to you? Am I- not pretty enough?”
Anthony’s heart breaks and he realises that he’s never seen you so sad before, not even when you were merely a couple and you had family issues.
“Angel, you have to tell me what it is that they told you. I need to know” he repeats through gritted teeth, ready to walk down those stairs and strangle Benedict and Colin.
“Sex” you repeat Benedict’s words unsurely, glancing up at Anthony. “Told me you are too busy for that. And I- you have never told me of that.”
At this point, his hands fly to your waist and he positions you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your lower body as he turns you to face him entirely. “My darling- They told you that? I-” he seems at a loss for words, and finally, his lips fall into a straight line and he lets go of your hand for a second, walking away from you, and to the floor mirror in his room. You pout as you lose his warmth, and your brows furrow when you notice him pulling the mirror towards you.
He takes his hand in yours and he helps you to your feet, your bottom lip wobbling when you catch sight of your teary eyes, but Anthony notices immediately, and his hands move to hug you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“You are so beautiful” he says softly, placing a kiss on the side of your neck, nosing at your skin as he continues speaking, “Undress for me, my love.”
Breathing having picked up, your eyes widen anxiously as your hands find his. “Anthony-” “I want to show you how good I can make you feel. Trust me. Please” he pleads, his eyes looking helplessly into yours. You give a curt nod, your heart pounding against your ribcage.
Your shaky hands move to undress yourself and Anthony helps peel off your dress and chemise, leaving you bare and vulnerable before him.
Anthony lets out one of the most obscene sounds when he presses his clothed body to your bare one, and you can feel his erection pressing into your backside, not that you are aware of what that is. Yet.
“Your hand. Move it down your body” he commands rather softly, watching you through the mirror. Your cheeks heat up but you obey nonetheless, your left hand stopping right above your lower stomach, “Lower. Touch your pussy for me, sweetheart.”
“Alright” you take a deep breath, your hand sliding further down your body, resting at your cunt, your warm touch making you shiver. “Feels odd” you whine, eyes pleading as you find his eyes through the mirror.
He bites his lip, his eyes closing for a moment before he is able to look at you again. “It shall feel good in just a moment... Can- Do you want me to show you?”
“Yes, please” you whisper and his hand instantly reaches to your cunt, using both of his hands to spread you open, your folds damp and spread out for him. “S’pretty” you say absentmindedly, dreamily staring at yourself in the mirror.
“Yes it is” he hums, grinning widely against your shoulder. His middle finger taps your clit twice, and he smirks as your body jolts up. “See this, darling? It’s your clit, your little button... You can rub it whenever you wish to feel good.”
“Whenever I wish?” you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.
“Yes, sweetness” he hums, his cock hardening at the thought of you wanting to touch yourself, let alone to the thought of him. “And if you want it to feel even better, you must-” with your hole dripping wet, Anthony manages to slip a digit right inside of you, causing you to gasp in both slight pain and excitement. He is finally giving it to you.
“Anthony- what is this?” you ask curiously, Anthony’s finger still inside of you, leaving you to adjust to the sudden intrusion.
“Bit of stimulation before I can give you my cock, bunny. Or, as my dear brothers wish to call it, have sex” he chuckles lowly and starts pumping his finger into you, your fragile body shaking, your knees ready to give out, but you know that he is here to catch you.
“Great” you reply breathily, one of your hands slipping into his.
“You must relax, my love” he tuts, moving his finger in and out slowly, the feeling leaving you bucking your hips into his hand, eyes rolling back. “Let them enjoy the show” he eyes you intently through the mirror.
You look at him rather confused, but his other hand moves to cup your jaw and gently turn your head to the side, towards the door.
A door cracked open. Benedict and Colin.
#anthony bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#colin bridgerton#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#colin bridgerton x reader#bridgerton smut#bridgerton fanfiction
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 2] Arrangements
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Warnings: MDNI Sukuna joins reader bath without permission (nothing crazy), Nudity
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You’re still in the process of retaining all that has happened while your arms and feet are being washed. You’re smelling a fragrance that is way out of your means and while it does smell nice, you want to puke. This is all too much for you. You weren’t even given an option, you were simply just dragged away as if you weren’t your own person.
“Can you stop, please?” Your voice comes off as weak, and it’s easy to dismiss. You feel as if you’re drowning, even though the water doesn’t reach past your breasts. They’re being gentle with you, not wanting to damage the skin of the mistress that will carry King Sukuna’s heir, though their hands feel so rough for you.
“Can you stop?!” You yell, which makes everyone come to a halt. They’re all staring at the ground, not daring to make eye contact with you. You have yet to realize the power you have in this situation since it’s quickly overshadowed by the fact that you’re… Expected to carry a monster’s heir. You can’t afford to look at them, simply telling them, “Leave, please.”
They got strict orders to bathe you and not leave you alone, but the orders were from Uraume. Right now, they’re more terrified of you than anything; even when you’re frail and soft spoken, they don’t see you as your own being but rather an extension of King Sukuna. They end up leaving you alone per your request.
This is the perfect opportunity to run away– No, you can’t. You came here for a reason, and while you’re still shell-shocked, you can’t leave. You sigh, knowing that even if you wanted to, getting caught would result in a gruesome death. You begin to wonder if you’re able to reproduce with him, Sukuna is one of his kind. He’s not exactly a human… What would he be considered?
Too lost in your own thoughts, you fail to listen to the heavy footsteps that approach you. You only notice his presence when the water reaches your collar bone, and suddenly your chest feels too heavy for you to breathe. He’s decided to join your bath. You divert your gaze, scared of what he might do if you look directly at him.
“Look up.” Sukuna tells you, and you don’t waste a second before staring at his unusual face. He truly isn’t like anyone you’ve seen before, but you don’t think that’s bad. The longer you stare at him, you realize that there’s something charming about his face, you’re not quite sure what it is though. “The servants outside are lucky to be alive. You don’t get to come in here and order people around, Uraume relays my word and you have no say against it.”
“Will you kill me if I do?” You ask, purely out of curiosity. His eyes are practically burning into you, wondering how to answer the question. His immediate answer would be a yes, but he really wouldn’t, at least not when he wants you to carry his heir.
“I’ll kill everyone that’s involved.” He answers, knowing that with that look in your eyes won’t let you allow it. You give him a slight nod, not daring to question him further on the matter. He’s joined you for a reason. Either he joined simply because of you dismissing everyone, or he wants to begin the heir making process.
“How is this going to work?” You ask, but you're not specific enough. You’re thinking about producing an heir. You aren’t a fool to sex, you have somewhat of an idea of how it works; Sukuna isn’t a man though. He has aspects of a man, but he isn’t one. Four eyes, four arms, a tummy mouth, and twice the size of any human being, he’s truly one of a kind.
“You will carry my heir, and I will heal your brother.” He answers, and you let out a low laugh, making him frown. “What’s so funny?”
“I was referring to something different.” You respond, and he rolls his eyes. “But… What will you do with me after I have your baby?”
Sukuna takes a moment to think about his answer because he hadn’t thought that far ahead. After he’s ruined you in each possible manner, what does he want to do with you? He’ll already have his successor, he has no need for you. What do humans do?
“You’ll nurture it until a certain age, then I’ll take over.” Is the best answer he can give. What happens then? He answers all questions you may have by saying, “And if I see fit, you’ll be having more.”
He doesn’t want to let you go, even after you’ve fulfilled your agreement. You’re giving away your freedom for your brother’s health and wellbeing– It’s fine though, it’s not like you had much going for you. Though you don’t want to be someone’s breeding mule for the rest of eternity. You don’t want to be someone that’s easily forgotten.
“Can we get married?” You blurt out, and of all things you could say, he certainly wasn’t thinking that. A marriage proposal from you is certainly… Odd. He smirks though, intrigued..
“What for? You know you won’t be the only one.” He tells you, although you aren’t all that interested in his love affairs. He knows it’s not that though, you aren’t bothered by that. You’re splashing the water, unable to look at him as you answer. You’re too embarrassed.
“I want to be someone, not just the mother of your child.” You respond, and he scoffs at the pitiful request. You were no one before, so why do you suddenly have the need to be respected? He doesn’t care enough to ask.
“If you expect loyalty, you won’t receive it.” He warns you again, but that doesn’t spark your interest whatsoever. You really just want the title of being his wife, and he doesn’t see it as a title of much importance, so he’ll grant it. “I’ll speak with Uraume for the arrangements of a traditional wedding then.”
You hum in response, your eyes looking back up at him. He looks bored. Though your next question does make a smirk appear on his face, “Do you have traditional male genitals?”
“What is a traditional male genital, please enlighten me.” He sounds as if he’s about to burst into laughter at any moment, which makes you want to bury your head under the water. You know exactly how it is, you haven’t been sheltered from the world since you weren’t born into an aristocratic family to be protected– Although you hear the stories, the aristocrats are anything but pure.
“A penis.” Your answer is short and correct, but you can’t even look at him as you say it. Your hand sways in the water, feeling yourself calm down with the sound that it makes. “I used to work near a brothel so naturally I befriended some of the women that worked there.”
“It will be similar to what you’ve been told.” He says, and you can’t help but notice his choice of words. Similar. Now you’re worried.
“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, and within a second they’re in the room. Sukuna rises from the water, finally giving you a glimpse of what you missed when he got into the water. Your eyes couldn’t get any wider, and your face burns up when you realize why he said the experience will just be similar; he has two of them. “Finish getting her ready.”
Uraume’s hands go to your shoulders and they lift you up from the water. You’re unable to say anything, shocked at what you just discovered. Uraume dries you off with a cloth, acting as if they hadn’t seen the same thing as you. They’re more than likely used to it but it’s weird. He’s referred to as a deity for a reason, he isn’t like anyone you’ll ever meet. Four eyes, four arms, a tummy mouth, and twice the size of any human you’ve ever met, that alone should explain everything.
You still can’t help but question, “Why does he have two?”
It feels hard for you to breathe with all the layers of clothes that you have on. You thought that with the place and Sukuna being unusual, you would have some wiggle room in your attire. However, you’ve been proved wrong. You have six layers of clothes on, for the first time in your life feeling like a noble. There’s too many layers, but at least it’s silk.
“The king will be here soon.” Uraume tells you before sliding the door to the room shut, leaving you to kneel on the tatami floors. You click your tongue as you look down at your attire. All of these layers of clothes for nothing. You wonder if he’ll get mad at the fact that he has to remove each garment. A smile comes to your lips, knowing that he’s definitely not the patient kind.
You try not to think about what’s to come because you’re nervous. The thought of having sex for the first time is enough to make your stomach churn, thinking about what you just saw makes the nerves even more prevalent. You try to take a deep breath, though the action is unnecessarily difficult due to your attire.
You hear his loud footsteps as he approaches the room, your body slowly trembling out of pure nerves. Your breath gets caught up in your chest as the door opens. He walks into the room, and his eyes stare you down. You try to remain composed, but it’s hard when you know what’s about to happen.
You’re scared… Yet, you can’t help but feel excited at what’s to come. Though your fear is what reflects through your body language. It’s going to happen either way so you try to calm yourself down.
“Where’s your makeup?” Sukuna crouches down to be on your level, one hand going under your chin and lifting your face, forcing you to look at him. You thickly swallow, finding it hard to speak now. He’s impatient, though he won’t raise his voice now because of what’s to come, so he repeats the question, “Where’s your makeup?”
“Uraume said I looked better without it so they wiped it off.” You tell him, and he rolls his eyes. He won’t argue with Uraume though, he trusts their judgment. “Next time–”
“Next time you won’t do anything. You’re going to listen to them.” He’s quick to cut you off, and you nod in response. You’re still shaking in his hand, and he finds himself annoyed. But there’s also this unusual feeling at the pit of his stomach, something that he’s never felt before… Pity? “Have I done something to you? Why are you trembling like a mouse?”
“I’m nervous.” You confess, and he scoffs. Nervous, and he has yet to do anything to you. You have a multitude of layers on, you have no reason to shake as if you were naked. You weren’t acting like this when he was in the bath with you, he doesn’t know what’s changed.
“I haven’t even properly touched you.” He practically whispers. He inspects your face before letting go of you. He has no interest in having fun when you’re this pathetic. You’ve successfully killed his mood to do anything.
Sukuna loves when his prey fears him… But you aren’t considered prey anymore.
“Uraume has arranged everything for tomorrow. We’re getting married.” He announces. He’s given in, and this is another task he must complete before having his heir. He sighs before saying, “You’re so pathetic, I can’t even touch you.”
“Sorry.” You blurt out while he stands up.
“Don’t embarrass me. My wife will never apologize for anything, not even to her king.” He scolds you before opening the door and exiting the room. He’s announced your wedding and left as if it isn’t a big deal, and you guess it’s not a big deal to him.
You can finally take a proper breath, proving that the clothes had nothing to do with your inability to breathe properly. Uraume walks into the room within a minute of Sukuna leaving. They don’t have to ask what happened, he simply just didn’t want to engage with you yet.
“Let’s get you ready for bed.” They say, and you stand up from the floor. You wish you could follow behind them, but they drag you out as if you were a child.
It’s your first day amongst the walls, you haven’t gained their trust yet, nor do you have a title to have any say in how you’re treated. It will all soon change though, tomorrow you’ll be King Sukuna’s wife.
#[bonds of fruition]#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna jjk#sukuna x you#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#sukuna x y/n#jujutsu sukuna
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Small Victories
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.
♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡
5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...
♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡
You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.
You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.
If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.
The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.
You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.
So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.
Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.
There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.
When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.
"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.
The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.
"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.
"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.
"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.
He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.
"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.
"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.
"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.
"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.
The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.
"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.
"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."
Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.
"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.
He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.
"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."
Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.
He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.
"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."
His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.
"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.
"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.
"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.
He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.
"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."
"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.
He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.
"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."
"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.
He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"We'll see about that."
And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.
You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.
It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.
The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.
You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.
You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.
The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.
The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.
The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.
She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.
"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.
"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.
"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.
"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.
"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.
You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.
"Very well, madam."
You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.
Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.
He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.
His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.
The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.
The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.
The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.
Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.
The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.
You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.
Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.
"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.
You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.
The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.
When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.
You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.
"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.
"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.
"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.
"Now."
The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.
"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.
"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."
You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.
You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.
You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.
"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.
"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.
He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.
"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.
"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.
"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."
"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.
He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.
"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.
"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.
He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.
"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.
You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.
"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.
"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.
"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.
You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.
"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.
You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.
He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."
You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.
Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.
"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.
"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.
Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.
He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.
You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.
He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.
He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.
"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."
You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.
He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.
He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.
"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"
You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.
"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.
The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.
You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.
You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.
His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.
"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"
"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.
He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”
"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.
"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."
His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.
"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."
You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.
"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.
He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.
"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.
He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.
His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.
He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.
Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.
You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.
You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.
"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.
You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.
He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.
He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.
"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.
He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.
He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.
"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.
You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.
He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.
"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.
"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.
You gripped his forearms and nodded.
He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.
He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.
"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.
You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.
He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.
He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.
You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.
You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.
"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.
You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.
You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.
He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.
He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.
Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.
He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.
He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.
"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.
He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.
He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.
He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.
And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.
Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.
#house of the dragon#hotd#prince daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen smut#daemon targaryen x you#daemon targaryen fanfic#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#hotd x y/n#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd fic#hotd imagine#daemon x y/n#daemon x you#daemon x reader#daemon smut#hotd daemon#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon x reader#hotd fanfiction#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#fanfiction
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LITTLE BLACK DRESS - LN4
halloween special
summary : loosely based on little black dress by 1D😊 happy halloween my horny bffs
listen up : kissing, yelling… him being horny. lando x fewtrell!reader
word count : 1655
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She's always been beautiful. She’s the sort of pretty that when she walks into the room, everyone’s head turns toward her.
Today though… shit. She looks straight up sexy.
Max punches me in the arm, realizing I'm not paying attention to whatever he’s saying. But I can’t stop looking at her, long legs and a tiny black dress is all I can see.
As she gets closer, her hair bouncing with every step, I realize that it’s the type of hunger that will only be satisfied by my lips on hers.
There is one slight issue, though. “Sis!” Max grins, messing up her hair as she pushes him away, “Nice costume. You get it half off?”
⋆༺
you
“You're so turning into our dad!” I roll my eyes at Max as he laughs and whips his arm around me, pulling me into a forgiving half hug. He's the mad hatter, cute since I saw Pierta in her Alice costume a few minutes ago.
I scrunch my face up before looking up at Lando. God… Lando. His eyes are practically setting me on fire, looking up and down my body. He's a skeleton.
Looking ridiculous hot in all black, his costume is made by the makeup on his face. An illusion of bones with black and white.
“Hi, Lando. Happy Halloween” I say sweetly as he brings his cup to his painted lips.
“Lookin good, Y/n.” He gives me a slight smirk and I can feel Max’s annoyance before he starts complaining.
“Lando. No!” Max says as if he’s some sort of dog.
“I didn’t do anything!” He puts his hands up in defense before looking at me, “Want a drink?” I flash him a smile, fangs and all. He raises a brow at my favorite bit of my costume.
A vampire is not basic, It’s classic!
“She wants nothing from your grubby hands!” Max says immediately, his mad hatter hat tilting on his curls.
“Grubby!?” Lando scoffs as I laugh, but I see my friend in the crowd and squeal, leaving them both.
⋆༺
lando
How weird would it be if I said I want her to bite me? Fuck, it sounds weird doesn’t it? I don’t care. She’s been dancing with P for the past thirty minutes, downing at least two drinks and moving her ass in a way that should be illegal.
There’s fake blood on her chest and mouth. A mouth I'm desperate to kiss.
I’ve known her forever, and I would never admit it to Max… but I've always had a bit of a thing for her. How do you tell your protective best friend that you’re hot for his younger sister?
The answer is that you don’t.
But this feels different. We’re older, we’re both hotter, and I swear I saw her checking me out.
Max has disappeared and there’s a girl by my side in an instant. I take one look at her, get disappointed that she’s not Y/n, and leave.
I spot her at the bar.
I tug on her hair and she lets out a little scream before she turns and sees me. Her mouth contorts into a mischievous smirk, her nose scrunching. “Two vodka shots.” I nod at the bartender, standing close to her. “I like your costume.”
She looks bored, “Think I look hot?” When she turns to get my reaction I just tilt my head a bit, biting back a smile. She knows I do.
“Well I think yours is a bit underwhelming.” She sighs as I scoff.
“Hey- P spent an hour on this!” she giggles, “What would you rather me be?”
She thinks for a moment as the bartender slides us the shots, “Hmm… a driver?” Her body shifts towards me, holding up the vodka and smiling innocently.
“Very funny.” I take my own shot, tapping the table and downing it without breaking eye contact.
“You here alone?”
She leans against the bar, “Nope… my friends are here somewhere.” She breaks eye contact, surveying the packed crowd.
I lean in closer, “I mean did you come here with a guy?”
She narrows her eyes at me, “No.”
I can’t help but smile, teasing her is my favorite activity. “You open to leaving with one?”
She blinks, biting her bottom lip, “Lando…” I know i’m playing with fire but I don’t care.
“What?” I say innocently, “For safety reasons.”
She lets out a little laugh, “I’m not fucking you in the name of safety.” I frown.
“You’re losing your little flirty spark, Fewtrell.” I lean closer, my arm resting on the bar, “You grow up, finally?”
“I grew up.” She nods, “But I'll never lose my spark.” She looks offended, my eyes flick down to her body… her chest… her lips.
“Prove it.” Her hand goes to her hip.
“You gonna flirt with me all night or actually make a move?” Spark is still there. 1000% still there because the way she’s leaning into me makes me hard.
I glance at the people drinking and dancing, seeing Max instantly in his hideous hat. He's not looking at us, but I know he’s gotten a vibe tonight when I was staring at Y/n’s ass.
“You really want me to make a move in front of your brother?” I ask her and I can tell she’s torn.
Y/n has always been close to Max, but she was always known to be troublesome. I liked her more for it. She would sneak guys in when their parents were away and Max would always call me, purposefully being loud about how much he could bench to scare the guy away.
“Let’s dance.” My hand slips to her waist, tugging her closer. She gives me another suspicious look, “Come on… I wanna see the way you move for me.”
She rolls her eyes, “Take you and your one liners somewhere else.” She starts walking away, but I follow.
“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” I take her hand finally, tugging her into the crowd and pulling her close to me.
“Don’t act like you don’t get off on it.” I bite the inside of my cheek as her hand moves to my neck and into my hair.
“You’re so fucking hot.” I should probably think twice about telling this to my best friend's sister, but why lie?
She throws her head back, laughing. She shakes her head and keeps dancing. The neon lights swirl around us as people push and scream over the music. I can practically feel the djs mix in my body.
Y/n’s hand goes to the back of my head again, standing on her toes to yell in my ear. “I don’t want to smudge your makeup.” I think I'm about to faint.
I shake my head, making her look at me in the eye to make sure she’s serious. She’s staring up at me, a brow quirked as if she’s daring me.
My lips are on hers embarrassingly fast.
Gripping her waist, I slip my tongue in her mouth. The fake fangs scrape against me but I'm too focused on her so close to me to care.
⋆༺
you
I've spent an unhealthy amount of time wondering what it would be like to kiss Lando. Now I know that my younger self was completely wrong.
He’s possessive and rough, holding me close and sliding his hand up my body, to my neck. He tastes like makeup and alcohol, my hands holding his neck and tugging at his shirt.
It’s too loud for him to hear me say his name. He bites my lip and I let out an involuntary whine. He's smirking against me when I tug his shirt, pulling back.
I smile at him, catching my breath for a second just to make sure this is real. “I love this song.” It's ‘little black dress’ by one direction. The song that I played every day of my teenage years whenever Max and Lando were bugging me.
I laugh, leaning back as he rests his head on my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my skin. I turn his head to face me again, kissing him softly. “Maybe I'd be okay with going home to a guy.” I say in his ear.
“You better be talking about me.” His face is serious but I can’t help but laugh, slapping his arm before kissing him again.
“Of course it’s you, muppet.” I’m kissing him again. I get lost in a haze of smoke and music, melting into him as he breathes against me.
He’s kissing my neck now, moving his hand down past my back. Then he’s gone.
He’s off me in a second, “What. The. Fuck!?” It’s Max. “No! No! No!” He looks like he’s about to kill Lando.
“Hey…” I think Max it’s going to be okay until a smirk breaks out on Lando’s stupid face. “What if I told you I'm really drunk?”
Max’s fists clench, “Lando-” He turns to me, looking pissed off, “I can’t even with you!”
I push my hair back, shrugging and wiping my mouth. I look at Lando who’s about to laugh, his mouth is smudged with blood, black paint, lipstick.
“My sister!?” He yells, getting the attention of few around us.
“I- Okay look! I didn’t. I mean! Yeah… She’s hot!” he goes through options, clearing giving up as he looks at me. Max loses it then, “Yup!” Lando turns and fucking bolts.
Max is screaming and i’m laughing, it’s almost too comedic. The crowd basically parts as Lando hurries past, my brother chasing after his best friend.
When they’re about to be out of view, Lando turns, “Yo, Vamp!” He calls out, running backwards with a scared and mischievous expression on his face. He brings a hand to his head, mimicking a phone before breaking out into a grin, “Call me!”
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris fluff
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Birthday Blues
Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
Authors note: finished this yesterday but tumblr deleted it xx
Warnings: none, for once
Word count: 5.9k
Requested: yes/no
Max was tired. He’d been at this charity event for hours, sat to the side sipping at some drink he’d been handed as he watched coworkers and acquaintances mill about, spreading joy he didn’t have.
He’d came alone, contrary to most of his friends who all danced and laughed with their partners, swinging around loosely under the evening lights, faint music guiding their hearts in a loving dance.
He’d come under the notion that he’d get to hang out with Daniel or Charles, maybe even Checo. But they were all whisked away with the brush of a gentle hand and a lipstick kiss, leaving with the merry call of their lovers giggle and leaving a disgruntled and lonely Max in their wake.
So here he was, his friends preoccupied and in love, a frown gracing his face and the ideal of charity being the only thing keeping his perfectly clean dress shoes cemented to the tile floor.
He takes a big swig of whatever drink was in his hand, grimacing as the bourbon burned his throat on the way down. He vaguely considers leaving, debating how much his presence would be missed by those happier than him when one of the few people in the same boat as him comes bounding up.
“Maxie!” Max winces at the volume of Landos voice as he stomps happily up to the Red Bull driver, a toothy grin on his slightly intoxicated face. Max disregards the awful nickname, choosing instead to humor the McLaren driver.
“Hi Lando,” Max smiles, unable to truly be displeased around the ball of absolute joy in front of him, “Enjoying yourself?”
Lando laughs, although Max isn’t entirely sure what’s so funny. He doesn’t mention it though, tilting his head in the Brits direction.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fun,” Lando starts, moving to lean against the wall Max was standing on, “Seems to be more romantic than usual, though. Not exactly my cup of tea.”
This causes the frown to reappear on Max’s face, his lips forming a firm line as he’s reminded of his loneliness in the face of the romance that surrounded him. Max simply hums in response, suddenly wishing he had another drink. He turns to grab one from a nearby waiter, eyes trailing after them as they walk away. As he traces their path, his gaze finally catches on you.
You were stood a few yards away, your form perfectly blocked by the way Lando had been standing. After seeing you, Max wishes he’d pushed Lando out of the way much sooner. His gaze traces the features of your face delicately, scrawling over the expanse of your flowing dress, the red shining beautifully against your skin. Max wishes for nothing more than study the freckles that dot said skin, knowing he could makes the most beautiful constellations if given the chance. Your hair falls perfectly around your face, framing it as if it was a work of art. Even after one look, Max isn’t sure that you, in fact, aren’t one. He’d certainly pay good money even if your face was the only exhibit.
Lando, even in his drunken state, catches on to Max’s staring and turns to catch your attention, calling out your name in the loudest of fashions. Max finds himself mouthing your name to himself the second it leaves Landos lips, hoping he’d have to use it a lot in the future.
You turn and smile as you spot the pair, taking the few steps it takes to reach them. Lando slings an arm around your shoulder and Max is suddenly struck with the terrifying idea that you were dating the small, insane, terrifyingly unromantic Brit next to you. It would certainly be strange, considering Lando had just dismissed the event for being “too romantic”. But as you lean into his hold, Max has to stop himself from frowning.
“Maxie, this is my friend, Y/N. She’s just moved here so she’s crashing with me while her place gets furnished or whatever. She’s just as boring as you so I’m sure you’ll get along great,” Lando grins. You don’t seem offended by his words, probably both aware of the amount he’s drank and understanding of the joking connotation behind his rude statement.
“I don’t go out to a club with you one time and you decide to write me off for being boring ever since,” You roll your eyes, a charming smile on your lips. Max lights up at the realization that you’re not, in fact, dating the extremely talented McLaren driver next to you.
Lando snorts unceremoniously, swaying the two of you side-to-side, “Maybe you should’ve come out, then? It was sick, you would’ve loved it.”
“I was watching a movie, mate,” You laugh, ruffling the hair of your friend, “And I was sick!”
Lando laughs, finally releasing your shoulder from his grasp and falling back into place beside Max, “Yeah, yeah, whatever princess. Just be glad I brought you chicken soup the next day. Even with my nasty hangover and two hours of sleep!”
You smile warmly at the memory before something seems to strike you, “You fell asleep on my couch and then woke up and drank all my coffee!”
The thief in question holds his hands up in surrender, seemingly started to slowly back away from your accusatory glare, eyes scanning for an escape route, “Uh, why don’t you talk about that with Max, I’m gonna…”
His eyes finally catch on something on the other side of the room, his feet speeding up below him, “Go talk to Oscar! Bye, Y/N!”
You and Max turn to watch Lando speed away, careening into the back of Oscar, the Aussie stumbling forward from the impact. You look away, turning back toward Max with a slight laugh. As you face him, Max thanks the heavens for the atmosphere provided as the setting sun through the expansive windows combined with the soft lighting from above shine down on the side of your face, enlightening the curve of your lips as they open to release the soft melody of your voice.
“He’s so weird.”
Max laughs at the statement, his head moving on its own to agree with you, “He definitely is.”
You look up toward his face, your eyes quizzical and your head tilted slightly, “I’m so sorry, I don’t think Lando even properly gave us a second to meet. I’m y/n.”
Max nods, “Max.”
You smile, grasping a flute of champagne from a passing waiter into your perfectly manicured hand. Max takes a large gulp of his own glass, grateful for the temporary respite from his growing thirst.
“I know you, Max,” You smile, taking a sip of Champagne, “Been to a couple of races with McLaren. Congrats on being completely dominate by the way.”
Max laughs, ducking his head slightly as his face flushes red for a few moments, “Thank you.”
You nod, satisfied, as your eyes go back out or stare at the party flowing smoothly in front of you. Max leans slightly closer to you, causing your attention to snap back to him.
“If I’d known you’d been at a race I would’ve asked Lando to introduce us sooner,” Max smiles, liquid courage clearly causing excess confidence to bleed into his words.
You flush at his words, biting your lip in an attempt to cover your obvious grin. Max’s eyes widen warmly as you turn your face away, covering your warm cheeks with your free hand before turning back to him. Max is just happy he got you to laugh.
“Is that so?”
“Of course.”
You take another sip of your champagne, fully angling yourself toward the Dutch man, looking up through your eyelashes at him. Max isn’t sure on how yet but all he knows is that he won’t let this end, the party he once detested now becoming the most interesting thing he’d entertained in a while.
Max scans his eyes over your figure, gaze catching on a stack of bracelets sitting delicately on your wrist. A charm bracelet lays gently with a stack of bangles on top and, finally, a few ornately stitched thread bracelets are mixed throughout the stack.
“I like your bracelets.”
You perk up at his words, glancing between him and your wrist before lifting your wrist slightly up toward him, “Really? They’re from this brand in Greece! They’re all custom made and personalized however you want them to be.”
Max just watches as you fidget with some of the dangling charms on your bracelet, Max spotting a wave and a bird as they clank against the blue and gold thread of your other bracelet. He listens as you explain the lore behind the stack, a small grin forming as you get lost in your mind.
You’re not sure how long you’re stood there, conversing quietly as the party progresses without you. The sun sets in the time you talk, the only light now being the soft glow that the floating chandeliers cast onto your faces. You’re also not sure on how the topic comes up but you suddenly find yourself discussing your birthdays, Max shocked to find out you have the same one.
“September 30th, yeah?” You ask him, bright eyes widening as he nods. You seem to grin wider at his confirmation, another thing you have in common being added to the ever-growing list, “Any plans?”
Max is suddenly struck with the fact that, for once, he didn’t have any plans for his birthday. It wasn’t a race weekend so Red Bull wouldn’t be doing anything, he was grown enough where his family wouldn’t be organizing anything and this was the first year in a while he didn’t have a girlfriend to at least keep him company. He pauses at the thought, the absolute depressing notion of a thought causing his eyebrows to furrow.
“I guess not, no.”
You seem to catch onto his mental dilemma, gently reaching a hand up to rub small circles onto his shoulder. He tries his best not to move suddenly as your warm hand makes contact. He glances over, sporting the sympathetic smile on your face.
Not wanting to rain on your parade, he really tries to force a smile but it seems to come out as more of a grimace as you pat him, your hand dropping away, “You could always come to my birthday. Landos renting a boat. Id love to have you there.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything-“
You stop him, shaking your head with your persistently charming smile, “Nonsense, it’s a big boat, you wouldn’t be intruding anything. It’s your birthday too!”
He doesn’t seem fully convinced, though, and you roll your eyes, leaning fully toward him. You swing both arms around his neck, hands connected behind him and your body weight now fully leaned against him. Max, not wanting to knock you both over, rests his hands against your waist, hoping to save your balance.
You look up at him, biting your lip to stop the laugh threatening to escape your lips, “If you don’t want to share a birthday party, then I’m cordially inviting you to my birthday party as my friend.”
Max looks down at you, gaze soft as he stares at your gentle and genuine expression. He could tell you weren’t going to let this go, even if he turned down the invitation. So, despite his best judgement, he finds himself nodding as a yes, a grin starting to peak out on his usually stoic face. You laugh happily, leaning out of his grasp to sway merrily.
“I can’t wait to see you there,” you grin at the Red Bull driver, elation seeping into your voice, “Maxie.”
Max groans at the nickname but, for once, maybe feels a little charmed by it as it seems to bring you so much humor. You set your now empty glasses down on a nearby table, leaning forward to grasp Max’ hands in yours and practically tear him away from the spot on the wall he’d taken up for the past few hours. You start to lead him away from his corner of solitude toward the heart of the party which was still beating healthily despite the late hour.
“Come on, let’s dance,” you bounce on your heels excitedly as you pull him along, “You can help me plan what party information to feed Lando over the next few months. He still thinks it’s a surprise party but we live together and he’s anything but subtle.”
Max just smiles, following along behind you as he listens intently to your echoing voice. He sticks close to you, following your every step despite the fact that the idea of dancing at this party made him want to throw up. The idea of doing it with you and being able you hear you talk animatedly for a bit longer making the idea bearable enough for him to endure it. For your sake.
A few months later, Max finds himself on the deck of a yacht, sun shining down brightly onto his shoulders as the deep blue expanse of the Mediterranean stretched out in all directions below him.
He’d seen a good amount of people from the second he’d stepped onto the boat that morning, both people he knew and some he’d never met before. He knew Lando was around somewhere, his loud voice bouncing off the edges of the boat.
He hadn’t seen you yet but he wasn’t completely alone. Lando had taken the liberty of inviting Oscar who’d dragged along Logan, the two blond drivers having been sat on the upper deck since before Max had arrived.
It’s not that Max felt lost but he did feel a bit out of his element. Your friends milled around, wandering throughout the boat, conversations (and alcohol) flowing smoothly.
Just as Max moves to head up to where he’d seen Oscar and Logan hanging around, he’s frozen by the sound of your voice ringing out from a few yards away, “Max!”
Max’s eyes turn toward you, drifting over your body as he takes in the red swimsuit hugging your skin, the fabric the same shade as the red dress you’d worn at the gala all those nights ago.
Sunglasses sit perched on your nose, your hand moving to push the bridge of them back up from where’d they’d starting to slip down. Sunscreen sits atop your sun-kissed skin, casting a soft shining glow as the sunlight bounces off it.
“Hi, y/n,” Max smiles gently at you, still not completely at ease on the boat, “Happy birthday.”
You grin, quirking your head at the driver, “Happy birthday to you too, Maxie. I’m glad you decided to come.”
Max squints slightly as the sun beats down, rays of light sneaking into his unprotected eyes, “I didn’t want to miss your party, Lando even invited me himself.”
You laugh, head dropping back at his words. You both knew Lando was still under the impression that the whole party had been a surprise to you that morning. You were considering a career in acting with how Lando had believed your reaction.
“Well, make yourself comfortable, Landos paying so…” you trail off, shrugging your shoulders as you glance around, eyes tracing between the ocean and the sight of your friends lounging around before they land on the bar, drinks already being handed out, “We’ll set off in a few minutes, I think we’re just waiting on one more person.”
Max nods as you continue to look around, his eyes being dragged back to you.
You’re notably missing any jewelry, no doubt not wanting to lose it when you swim later. Max does notice the fresh set of nails you’ve got on, white and gold decorating the ends of your fingers.
You seem to notice Max’s attention on your hands and you grin, lifting your hands toward him, “You like? Got them done yesterday, I was more excited to spend the day with my mom than actually getting the nails. I’d usually get blue but I thought white would match my swimsuit better, you know?”
Max nods, grateful to, once again, hear your joyful rambling, “I like them, they’re really pretty.”
Your face forms into a satisfies smile, glancing over the nails in question before you look back up toward Max, “I’m glad you think so.”
Max smiles his first genuine smile since stepping on the boat, eternally grateful to have you here in front of him. Just as you’re about to say something, your eyes catch on something over Max’s shoulder and your mouth falls closed, a small exhale leaving your mouth as you seemingly hold back a laugh.
“Max!” A voice calls out from behind him. When Max turns, he’s met by the sight of one Daniel Ricciardo bounding down the dock, wearing a giant grin and a familiar burnt orange hat. Max’s eyes widen at the sight of the Aussie as he jumps onto the boat, his toned arm coming to swing around Max’s shoulders.
Daniel looks down at you, a humored smirk on your face, “Hi y/n, happy birthday.”
“Hi Danny,” you hum, looking between the pair of friends.
Daniel looks around, his eyes quickly catching on Lando, no doubt doing something stupid. He pats Max on the shoulder before peeling away, “Happy birthday Maxie, I’ll see you in a minute.”
Daniel bounces away, echoes of Landos name being shouted out of his mouth, the Brit quickly enduring the tackle of the older Aussie. Max laughs as he watches the attack, eyes crinkling and shoulders shaking.
Max looks back toward you when he hears your own melodic laugh ring out beside him, “You invited Daniel?”
You turn your head toward him, smiling shyly as you nod, “It’s your birthday too, didn’t want you to be too lonely.”
Max shakes his head, although he can’t fight the warm laugh that escapes him, already having a better birthday than he’d expected to.
“Now that our final guest is here, we can finally set sail,” you say, walking away from the boats entrance. Max, not entirely sure of where Daniel had gone, decides to follow you.
Max isn’t sure what he’d expected from the party but whatever was currently happening was exceeding that.
With the arrival of Daniel, he was officially friends with over 50% of the guests in attendance. After a few drinks, it was pretty easy for him to befriend your brothers as well, especially when he found out they were both huge sports fans.
As the boat sailed idly around the open water, the party roared smoothly, new and old friendships forging deeper bonds. Music played from the speakers, Landos playlist quickly being switched out for your own.
After a few hours, the boat stopped and Lando was quick to throw himself overboard, his happy shouts echoing as he hurtled toward the water below. He’s followed by Logan who reaches the water with a surprisingly elegant dive, his departure causing a begrudging Oscar to jump after him.
Then comes your brothers, the pair of them roughhousing the second they both come up for air.
You roll your eyes playfully as you watch them all come down, you and Max having been already laid out on the lower deck, the water lapping at the edge of the boat just a few feet away.
You snort as you watch a couple of your own friends push eachother into the water, your head turning back toward the sun above you when you hear the splash of them entering the water.
Your eyes stay closed as the sun shines down on you, the warmth spreading through your skin. Though your eyes do shoot open when you feel water splash over top you and a loud laugh rings out next to you.
Max watches as you sit up, your eyes locking on Daniel who’d just stepped over you in order to cannonball into the ocean, successfully converting both you and Max in the cold water. Max was fighting the urge to laugh, scared he’d end up being pushed in if he laughed too loudly.
You scowl playfully at the Australian who laughs before diving under for a few seconds, shaking his wet hair as he comes up and getting even more water on you.
You stand up, flipping him off before moving to walk away. Max stands up after you as you toss your sunglasses on a nearby couch, “I’m getting a drink, Max.”
Daniel, though, calls out toward Max, happiness coursing through his words, “You coming in, mate?”
Max glances between you and Daniel before quickly taking a few steps to cut in front of you just as your about to enter the heart of the ship.
“Hi, Max,” you smile cheerfully, no idea what was in store for you in the coming moments.
“Forgive me,” Max mumbles as your furrow your eyebrows.
“What?”
Before you can even ask for clarification, Max scoops you up in his arms and starts to walk back toward the water.
“Max!” You laugh loudly, arms threading around the back of his neck and tightening as he jumps off the edge, both of you hitting the cold water shortly after.
He can hear Daniel’s nearby laugh even under the water, the sound coming through muffled as he pushes his way to the air above, your arms still intertwined behind his neck. As soon as he reaches the top, he can hear you laugh freely, the loud noise rivaling the beauty of the sunlight above.
“I hate you,” you quiet a bit as you say it, though there’s no venom behind your words. In fact, there’s a toothy grin on your face, accenting the sight of your wet face, hair now soaked and dripping as you try your best to stay afloat.
The water runs down your skin in rivulets, catching the rays of lights from above as it drips down, causing you to glow more than you already did under the Mediterranean sun.
Max hums, “I don’t think you do.”
You quirk your head, eyes narrowing as you look closely at him, “I don’t.”
“Y/N!” Your lean away from Max as your name is called, your attentions being drawn over to Logan who seemed to be attempting to drown Oscar, the Aussie trying his best to fight back. Max watches as Logan goes to speak again, Oscar successfully managing to get away, “We’re gonna do the jet-skis!”
You push away from Max and start to paddle toward the younger drivers, Oscar having started to attempt his revenge on the American. Logan, though, is unfazed by the shorter driver, turning to tackle him as you make your way over.
Max’s eyes stay on you as you swim away, watching as you intervene in the fight, pulling Oscar away. Max can’t help the dopey smile that forms on his lips.
“You like her,” Daniel sings, swimming his way to where Max is leaning against the edge of the boat.
Max rolls his eyes, the smile dropping off his face, “Shut up.”
The hours pass by, your friends eventually being pulled back onto the boat in order for it to set sail back home again.
You all come back together for dinner, sitting around on the deck as you dine. At one point. Lando pelts Oscar in the face with an empty water bottle. Oscar, who wasn’t looking up when it happened, mistakes the thrower for Logan and decides to start fighting him again, Lando sitting back with a grin on his face.
Now that they don’t have to stay relatively sober in order to swim, drinks flow much quicker.
As the sun sets on the horizon, your friends spread out across the boat, relaxation seeping into their bones, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to them.
Max laid out on the lower deck with you, watching as the sky explodes with hues of orange and pink. You both watch the sun lower down, a bottle of champagne laying between you.
Max doesnt think he’d even felt so at peace. Or had such a perfect birthday.
Your peace is interrupted after the sun has fully set, making way for the stars to break through and shine next to the moon above you.
You turn around as you hear a chorus of voices shout loudly, “Happy birthday!”
Your met with Lando standing just a few yards away, a cake held tightly in his hands, a few sparklers and candles sticking out of the top of it.
“Awww,” you laugh, standing up to face your friends, “Please don’t sing.”
This causes a laugh to spread through the group, Lando piping up to respond, “I don’t think that would go very well even if we wanted to.”
You snort, walking over to the cake, looking closely at the words written on top. Max sits back as you walk away from him, standing up after a few moments just to observe.
You look a bit closer at the cake before turning around to face Max again. He raises an eyebrow as you beckon him over, one of your hands swinging out to wave him toward you.
Max isn’t entirely sure why you were interrupting your own candle blowing to call him over but he agrees anyway, making his way to your side.
He glances down at the cake, a grin splitting his face as he reads it.
“Happy Birthday
Max & Y/N”
Max laughs slightly, the alcohol currently coursing through him inhibiting him from feeling any amount of embarrassment at the amount of eyes on him.
You turn and grin at him, the soft light of the candles reflecting off your shining eyes. Even in the dark of the night and with salt water stuck in your hair, Max still thinks you look rather beautiful.
You gesture down at the cake, candles still alight on each half, “You wanna blow out the ones on that side?”
Max doesn’t want to look away from your face but he does eventually manage to pull his eyes away, nodding as he spots the candles. You smile, leaning down toward the cake in Lando’s outstretched hands. Max leans as well, and you both are quick to blow out the candles to the cheers of your friends around you.
Lando walks to put the cake down on a table, leaning over to ask your brother to find the plates and forks. As you move to watch the recording of the small celebration on Logan’s phone, Max walks over to the Brit.
“Thanks for the cake thing,” Max says, picking up an abandoned water bottle and taking a quick swig.
Lando quirks his head, rubbing the back of his neck absently, “Thank y/n, not me. She told me that if I were to, hypothetically, get her a birthday cake, she wanted your name on it as well. All hypothetically of course.”
Max laughs, his face softening when he thinks about your conversation about dropping birthday hints for Lando to pick up on. But from Landos recount, this specific hint was a bit more obvious than the other ones. He turns his head to see you laughing at something Logan had said, Oscar looking closer and closer to sleep as the conversation went on.
Maybe if he’d been completely sober, Max would’ve felt a lot warmer at the thought of you thinking about him even for your own birthday party. But he wasn’t completely sober so the only thought he had when he looked at you was just how pretty you were.
Your brother comes back with plates pretty quickly, Lando cutting pieces in the most even way he can, unceremoniously plopping the largest piece down on your plate with a giggle.
Once everyone’s eaten their cake and properly disposed of their plates, it’s just a waiting game until the boat docks again.
You all lay out on the outer decks of the boat, looking up and watching the stars above you. Max can vaguely hear Daniel’s light snores, signaling the Aussie had fallen asleep from where he laid a few yards away.
Once you do dock, all your friends start to make their way off the boat and back to their own homes. Max watches as Logan carries an inebriated Oscar on his back, the Aussie sporting a brand-new, bright red sunburn on his face.
Lando vaguely follows them, the pair having crashed in his place for the weekend considering neither of them resided in Monaco.
Your brothers take the liberty of waking Daniel up, the driver walking tiredly off the boat.
As the rest of your friends leave, Max is left alone with you on the deck of the boat, the moonlight bouncing off the water and lighting up the space between you.
You’ve got something clutched to your side, Max is too out of it to question it.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Max starts, a genuine smile on his tired features, “I’d probably be sat alone on the sim right now otherwise.”
You laugh, not entirely aware of how much truth there was behind his statement, “I’m glad you came, it was really fun.”
Max hums, an absent smile crossing his face as he gazes softly at yours. He’s too busy looking at you to notice you bring your hand up from your side, a small box clutched in your manicured hands.
“I got you something,” your eyes light up as you push the box toward him, glancing between his face and the small white box, “Happy Birthday, Maxie.”
Max accepts the box, though he shakes his head as he does, “You didn’t have to-“
“No, but I wanted to,” you interrupt quickly, grinning and pushing the box closer to Max’s chest.
Max looks at you for a few seconds longer before glancing down toward the box, his hands moving to open it, the top swinging on its hinge to reveal what’s inside. With the amount of alcohol still in his system, it takes a few tries but he does eventually get it open.
Max freezes as he sees what’s inside.
A bracelet, not unlike one of your own, sits gently in the center of the box. Orange and gold thread twist around to form the circle, the threads shining under the distant street lights. Right where the threads come to an end and meet the clasp, a few small charms are clustered together. Max looks a bit closer at the charms and sees a thirty-three, his initials and, lastly, a small lions head.
When Max doesn’t respond immediately, you seem to assume the worst, words falling out of your mouth in a tipsy ramble as you start to pick at a patch on your skin, “If you don’t like it, that’s fine, really! I should’ve asked. Is it too much? I should’ve done one instead of thirty-three, I’m sorry max-!”
Your voice cuts off abruptly as Max’s hands wrap gently around the side of your face, the bracelet being shoved into his pocket. Your eyes widen under his touch, looking up into his own. Max takes a breath before speaking, liquid confidence fueling his words, “Can I kiss you?”
Your mouth opens and closes a few times, seemingly searching for words you cannot find before it ultimately falls shut. You nod your head instead.
Max leans down to capture your lips in his, your hands moving to tug gently at his salty hair. Max grins against your mouth before he dives back in, one of his hands sliding to tug your form closer to his. Max feels almost light-headed, the spark of your lips against his causing his brain to practically short-circuit.
When you split to take a breath, you lean your forehead against his. Max’s opens his eyes to glance warmly at your flushed face. When your eyes fall open and lock on his, you lean away, a loud laugh echoing from your lips.
You gaze over him as he brings you back close to him, your hands clasping behind his neck. Your thumb rubs passive circles on his skin as he goes to speak.
“Thank you,” Max says, bringing your attention back to his face, “For the bracelet. It’s perfect.”
You hum, lips turning up into a blushing smile, “I’m glad you like it.”
Max looks down at you with stars in his eyes, watching the way the moon light shines off the side of your face, your features looking even more striking under night sky, “I do. I really, really do.”
At his words you tug him down toward you, leaning your face up to kiss him again.
Just as your lips brush, a loud voice shouts out from off the boat, “Y/N! We’re leaving! If you don’t come now you’ll have to get your own car!”
You groan loudly, shoulders sagging as you rest your forehead against Max’s chest, eyes locked on the ground. Max has to struggle to hold back his laugh, his teeth sinking into his lip. Watching your despair, Max is struck by an idea.
“You could stay with me?” Max suggests, grinning as your head pops up.
“Could I? I don’t want to deal with Logan and Oscar, especially not while hungover,” you brighten as you ask him.
Max, instead of answering, grabs your hand, pulling you off the boat. You speed up for a few steps in order to fall into his side, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulder.
As Max leads you up toward the street, you’re met with Lando stood at the open car door, tiredness clear in his stance. If Max were to lean forward, he’d see Oscar and Logan passed out, limbs tangled in the cramped seats.
“You coming then, mate?” Lando asks you, pushing his glasses up on his face. Max isn’t entirely sure why he was still wearing sunglasses in the dark of the night but he chose not to question it.
You flush, leaning into Max’s grasp, “I’m staying with Max.”
Lando smirks, raising his glasses to look between the two of you with a nod, “Don’t have too much fun tonight.”
You roll your eyes, leaning out of Max’s grasp. Max finds himself missing the feeling of your body next to his. He doesn’t have to miss it for too long, though, as after you plant a gentle kiss on Landos cheek, you fall right back into Max’s hold.
“Thank you for the party, Lan. Love you.”
Lando rolls his eyes, sliding his glasses back down his face as he shakes his head, “Yeah, yeah, love you too. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow, you should bring your boyfriend.”
It Max’s turn to blush, a chuckle leaving his lips. Instead of replying, you both walk away from the Brit, Max laughing loudly when he hears Lando mumble something about “birthday shagging” from behind your backs.
You both continue to walk away, Max bringing you closer to his side and your head falling against his shoulder.
Max leans over to press a kiss to your temple, your skin warm against his lips, “You ready to go home?”
You pause, looking up at Max as he looks down at you. You state warmly up at him for a few moments, simply taking in the look on his face. Your smile widens as your cheeks flush, “I’d love to.”
—————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
#scheduled#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x reader#max Verstappen x fem!reader
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꒰ 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ꒱ 이민형
summary : one thing about your boyfriend, mark, is that he would always take care of you — even if you were annoyingly drunk — and he was embarrassingly in love
genre : fluff, mark x afab!reader, slice of life tws : language, kissing, mentions of alcohol, pet names author notes : oh he’d be a good boyfriend i just know it word count : 1k
it’s a good thing the elevator in your apartment hadn’t gone out yet, otherwise the man on your arm would’ve been upset—though he’d never let you know that.
he just loved you too much for that. and you kept telling him about how much of a good night it was for you; he’d never dream of ruining that.
“baby,” he stated quietly, pulling your arm around his waist higher, as it kept slipping. “hold on, just a little longer… why’d you have to live on the 10th floor? thank god the elevator isn’t out. is the view really worth it though?” he watched the numbers climb, illuminated electronically above the door.
your eyebrows furrowed, and though you were hunched against him, you willed your head up. deadpanning, you replied. “duh.” to which he just laughed at. “you just don’t get it mark! have you seen it? it’s beautiful! not more than you, but you know.”
“many times—actually, i helped you move in, baby.”
you giggled, head falling into his side. “y-yeah, you did… do you remember haechan falling up the stairs? he wasn’t even carrying anything heavy! oh my god, it was so funny i swear i peed my pants!”
mark thought that, for a drunk girl, you were very good at not sounding slurred with your words. however, standing or walking in a straight line were two very different tasks for you to accomplish in this state. but he thought it was cute that you thought of him to pick you up and make sure you got home safely. he loved that you loved him so much; shared so many memories with him and were still willing to make more. and truthfully, he loved you more.
the elevator dinged, the voice telling you that the doors were now opening. mark braced his arm around you tighter, hiking you up to be, at least a little, straighter.
you trudged along, holding him back with his attempts to keep a steady pace. you knew it was difficult to move on your own accord in your current state but, honestly you could’ve just fallen asleep on the floor if you fell.
“work—with—me—here, y/n. please,” he gritted, practically dragging your giggling figure. “do you even want to sleep in your own bed?”
your eyes narrowed soberly. “are you staying?”
“will that make you walk faster?”
as if possessed, the thought alone was enough to make you straighten your back and begin willing your legs to move—clumsily, but you knew your boyfriend was still a crutch to make sure you didn’t hit the floor.
he laughed in disbelief, then relief once you two finally had made it to your numbered door; mark putting in the passcode and it chiming with satisfaction.
“you scare me sometimes, baby.”
you hopped in place, the door swinging open with the length of his arm. you slumped against the wall, unhooking the strap of your heels and kicking them off.
“let’s go to bed!” and when you were about take off down the hall, a hand grabbed yours and stopped you—your feet comically still stomping in place. your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked over your shoulder in confusion.
“first,” he started, leading you down the hall; for a moment you thought he just didn’t want you to run, but he turned off into your bathroom. he hit the switch and illuminated the room, your eyes shutting instinctively. “your makeup.”
you whined, trying to get out of his grip. “no.”
“you’ll kill me in the morning, babe,” he grabbed your waist, hoisting you onto the counter and trapping you with his body. “it won’t take long.”
your pinky swung from the porcelain and into his view, “promise.” you weren’t asking, and that made him laugh.
his pinky connected with yours. “promise.” he replied adamantly, mimicking your movement and kissing the end of his balled fist.
he got to work, grabbing the remover and a couple cotton rounds. he gently swiped your skin, and you swear your head kept drifting to the side with tiredness. you couldn’t help that your boyfriend was the sole reason you could get a good-nights sleep. instead of trying to keep you up, he grabbed it, huffing out another laugh at your antics, but letting you fully fall asleep in his hand.
mark admired you as he tried his best to get the mascara off, smudging it and making you look a little foolish. he thought you were cute; the way your lips were parted, small snores leaving them. the slight crease of your brows as he put your moisturizer and serums on. he swears he could feel his heart swell, knowing you were just that comfortable around him—so adamant to have him by your side—to have him love you.
and he did.
he loved you so fucking much. his future was you. if he was your world, you were his sun. you were his lifeline. you were the one person he knew he could rely on without contest. if he was a producer, you were his muse. everything revolved around you. even if his thoughts weren’t originally for you, they’d eventually make their way back to you. he was excited to talk to you about anything and everything. he was blindsided by a love as strong as this mutual one. he’d die for you, and that’s why he lives.
honestly, he was so embarrassingly emotional right now for you, he could feel the tears welling up.
he swallowed the lump in his throat, grabbing the other side of your head and watching as you blinked blearily.
you smiled sleepily. “when’d you get here, baby?”
he could feel your arms climb to be around his neck, pulling him and simultaneously pushing yourself to get body-to-body. you always craved the warmth (even without thinking) like you were cold-blooded.
“i’m always here.” he kissed the side of your mouth, whispering against your lips. “now, let’s go to bed?”
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