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#But then he'd see her walk it off and be all ?!
mondaymelon · 3 days
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₊⊹ … 99% NOT LOVE ! | kinich x gn!reader
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— in which two people notice what two people don't .
— i've gone absolutely batshit over him your honour. im going to now start writing for kinich like a crazed man dying of thirst in the desert. let it be known that streamer!au kinich, enemies to lovers with poacher mc and other ideas are coming up (no im not cheating on xiao shush)
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mualani notices it.
"hehe."
and you hear it.
"so! there's a little..." she stares at you with the most serious face you've ever seen on the girl, acting suspiciously unlike herself. gesturing at you with exaggerated hand movements, then pointing toward who knows where, she eyes you. mischievously. "something that's 'going on', yea?"
and at first, you have absolutely no clue what she could be referring to. mualani is a sociable person, after all. her definition of "something" could range anywhere between a particularly cute baby saurian to an out-of-control-bonfire turned wildfire.
with the only eventful thing today being a brief morning surf session with sharky, you just sat there, never having felt more lost.
mualani grabs your shoulders in an iron grip, leaning forward to the point she's almost beginning to seem menacing. you can see the moment where she tries to think over something (which she never does quite successfully) before she straight up shouts:
"ah!! i'll just spell it out for you!! you. and kinich. bestie. spill."
.
.
.
ajaw did more than just "notice" it.
"you..! kIINICH, did you seriously have to-"
"noisy."
"selfish assh- ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THE DISRESPECT! TIME AND TIME AGAIN, yOU'VE-"
"once again, ajaw. be quiet."
"sure sure, and pretend i didn't see you and that someone do a little smoochy-smooch, huh?! UGH, now you've asked for it- KINICH AND LOVEY DOVEY, SITTIN' IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-"
ajaw was what you would call a "witness". though, most would use that term in regards to one seeing a crime or heinous event take place — this event was nothing of that nature.
well, as far as kinich was concerned, the matter was simple. you'd ventured all the way to scions of the canopy to give him a gift, (claiming it was for the time he'd helped you after a couple of yumkausarus hadn't enjoyed your fruit offering and instead decided to off you), and he'd refused to accept it. he wasn't one to receive reimbursement for others, and he didn't particularly like talking either — it was a well-known fact, almost law in natlan, that if the malipo ignored your words, all you need do was apologize and continue on.
well, you did exactly the opposite.
"no thanks."
"...sorry?"
"i don't need it."
"haha, so 'malipo' kinich's rumored no-nonsense nature really proved to be true! now come over here so i can give you my fucking gift!"
you were rather adamant about giving it to him. the reason? you'd bought the gift on a whim after seeing it being sold by a passing merchant, advertised as "80% only today if you buy within the next like 4 minutes" and you'd immediately dropped every mora you had. it was the most useless little thing ever, and you didn't want it at this point, but.. the deals. how could you return such an item???
naturally, you handed it off to the man you'd seen for a good two minutes before he flew, or did whatever his thing was, away. the man had remembered furrowing his brows the slightest, listening to ajaw's persistent yellings of "IT'S AN OFFERING TO ME, TAKE IT" and feeling an oncoming headache. "i said i didn't.."
as he turned to walk away, three unfortunate(?) things occured.
a rock under your shoe and a very graceful process of falling to the ground
kinich looking back (his mistake)
a kiss...?
oh, and two extra.
4. ajaw had saw it all. 5. and mualani, who had saw you from a distance and was coming to greet you, was faced with a sight she could not process.
...Now that he thought over it again, was the matter really "simple"? kinich's job was what he considered simple — split 70% to investigation, 10% to final decision, and 10% to execution, well portioned and planned out.
then, this...
.
.
.
"girlie, you've seriously got the wrong idea. i'm telling you, we aren't dating!"
"mmmokay. of course! because not-dating people kiss allll the time!"
you paused for a moment, remembering kinich's even tone, stern gaze, and... ah, a face that deserved a gold medal.
"it's only 99% not love, okay mualani? but if it wasn't..."
.
.
.
"... and it's 99% not love, ajaw."
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(a/n) darling im back from jail part 2. daddys home part 2. not funny? ok. HIHIHIHI ive bene really built like a sun dried raisin lately but kinich is the healing holy water that has saved me i will write more for him in the future because i love him a stupid amount its like the first time in a decade I've written for just ONE character and AND AND
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I THOUGHT HE WOULDNT OCME HOME BECAUSE I ONLY HAD 68 WISHES OUT OF MY ORIGINAL LIKE 100+ AND RUINED MY CHANCES BECAUSE OF REALLY REALLY WANTING MuALANI (i love her sm) BUT. BUT BRO CAME HOME. ON THE FIRST 10 PULL AND WON THE 50/50 JUST LIKE MUALANI DID (or is it 45/55 now idk) LIVE LAUGH LOVE KINICH !!
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[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic
( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )
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lilacgaby · 3 days
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title: gala gone wrong?
pairing: prohero!bakugo x prohero!reader
katsuki was suddenly forced to confront his feelings for you, when you were put in the date auction for charity.
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the heroes gala was something katsuki wouldn't look forward to normally. but this year he had a plan. he was going to ask you to be his date.
...originally. he chickened out last minute and owed kirishima 1000 dollars.
he was surprised to see you come alone though, opting to sit next to him which made him fist pump internally. you were a very successful hero who also doubled as a model. for what reason you ask?
none really, you just did it cause days off of hero work were boring. walking runways, topping charts, and beating villains with style was just another day for you.
you looked especially gorgeous this evening though, working with another up and coming designer to design a dress that perfectly complimented everything from your skin color, to you hair, to even references of your quirk.
katsuki suddenly felt underdressed in his suit, but to be fair every hero who was a man was dressed in a suit. except for monoma.
the auction portion of the gala started before the awards were to be given out.
the awards were pretty pointless in katsuki's mind. the only ones that mattered to him were the final rankings of popularity, efficiency, and the overall category.
"you nervous?" you whispered, talking over the first few lower ranked hero's to be auctioned for a date.
"nah, i know i won at least in popularity." he said, trying to keep eye contact with you without stuttering.
"hmm. what if i won? huh?"
"shut up."
she put a hand over her mouth, when suddenly-
"and the last date to be auctioned, a night with the top ranked woman hero [name]!"
"huh? oh that's me!" you said, collecting your dress as you walked to the stage, leaving katsuki blinking in confusion to himself.
you were in this? i mean it shouldn't have been a surprise, you had a rabidly loyal fan base, even since U-A. but what was he supposed to do? bid?
"the bid starts at.. 15,000 dollars." you rolled your eyes and gestured for people to go higher, and they did.
"17,000!"
"20,000!"
"30,000"
numbers were being shouted from all around the room, with the highest bids barely even being able to be tracked. the bids ranged from new heroes who definetly could not afford you, to old men who you really wish couldn't afford you.
you covered your mouth as you let a laugh escape you, this was hilarious to you, you'd have to do this more often.
after a bunch of back and forth, one booming voice cut all the others off.
"500,000 dollars. cash." to your surprise it wasn't an old creep. grand, also known as shindo yo, had suddenly bid. just as they were about to call off the auction and announce shindo the winner,
katsuki's internal dialogue won and 'forced' him to bid too. "750,000 dollars." he declared.
he doesn't think he'd have done it had it been any other idiot who wanted a chance with you, but that loser had to go.
"sold! to dynamite! we've broken a record here folks, 750,000 for the charity of --"
the words faded into the background as he looked up at you, smiling and walking over to him. he felt is heart speed up, his hands drown in sweat, his hair puff out.
"if you wanted to take me out you could've just asked katsuki." you joked, taking him by the hand as you pulled him back to the table towards the back you two were settled in on.
"whatever, now we have an excuse to."
"don't tell me you like me or something katsuki? how embarrassing."
"i told you shut it."
she laughed and settled down, poking him on the cheek. "its okay if you do, i like you quite a lot dynamite."
he flushed red at that, tiny explosions being let out from his hands inadvertently because of how caught off guard he was.
she held his hand under the table, before looking straight ahead to the ceremonies going on in front of them. he smiled and leaned back.
the awards were pretty boring when compared to the view of you, so until they had gotten to the cool stuff he just eyed you.. daydreaming about the life you'll have together someday.
he focused again when the top three heroes in popularity, efficiency, and overall were to be announced by all might.
at the end of the night, not only did he leave with a number one trophy with 'popular vote!' embedded in its side and an all-might signature at the bottom,
he also left with a lipstick mark from you right on his cheek, some flowers, and a small note that read 'see you tomorrow :)'.
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ariestrxsh · 2 days
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🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, blowjob, voyeurism, blackmail, mean!roughdom!chris
🖤 author's note: 🖤 part two is going to be some of the filthiest, roughest shit i've ever written, so proceed with caution.
🖤 summary: 🖤 your manager, chris, finds out you've been giving away free drinks at your bartending job, and he blackmails you. he won't tell your little secret as long as you can give him what he wants..
this story was requested/inspired by this ask 💖 (promise that i will be serving filth in part two)
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Closer part one
You rolled your eyes when you walked into work, saw the schedule, and realized who you were closing with.
You loved everything about being a bartender. You liked serving drinks, flirting with the customers, and listening to music all night. You made decent money, and you even liked your coworkers. Well, most of them.
The one thing you couldn't stand about your job was Chris, your manager, who was insufferable to work with. Anytime the two of you shut down the bar together, he'd waste time either playing around on his phone, sitting in his car smoking weed, or hiding in the backroom doing god knows what. This meant you'd end up doing most of the closing tasks alone.
All Chris really did was count the money and lock the door at the end of the night, and it always pissed you off that he got paid more than you. It's not like he was better-qualified for the position or had a better work ethic than you did, but he'd landed himself a position in management because the owner was his best friend's dad.
"Can't wait to close with you, sweetheart. You always get us out faster than I do with any of the other girls," Chris grinned at you with a tooth pick between his teeth while he leaned up against the stainless steel counter in a black tanktop and jeans.
"Wow, that's crazy, because we'd get out even faster if you could go one shift without getting high in the parking lot, and instead helped me rinse out all the beer taps," you snarked back.
"You know, I have way more important shit to worry about than wiping down surfaces. That's why I have you," Chris remarked, flashing you a smirk and brushing the back of his hand across your cheek. You pulled away and scoffed at him. "Love when you play hard to get," Chris whispered before wandering off towards the back. You rolled your eyes.
It was Friday night, which meant it'd be busy, and you were hoping to pull in enough tips to make rent by the end of the shift. You were getting into a flow, mixing drinks, and engaging in witty banter with some out-of-towners when your eye caught Chris heading out to the parking lot. There was a pretty blonde girl with him.
You finished serving the drink in your hand and turned to your coworker, Sam. "Hey, cover me while I go have a cigarette?" You leaned in and asked. She gave you the thumbs up. You went to the back, shuffling around in your purse for your American spirits.
You weren't gonna spy on Chris. You were just curious to see where he was going, who he was with, and what they were doing. Okay, fine. You were spying on Chris.
You made your way outside, sparking up the end of your cigarette, and heading towards the back of the building where the smoking area was. You didn't see Chris or the girl anywhere at first until your eyes landed on Chris' car. Chris was in the driver's seat, and it looked like he was alone.
That was until you saw that Chris had a fistful of her blonde hair in his grip, bouncing her up and down on his lap. You studied Chris' expression, the way it was steeped in desire, the way his jaw hung slightly open, and the way he was peering down. He was definitely getting head in his car.
The girl's head bobbed up down, disappearing and reappearing behind the dashboard. You knew you shouldn't be watching, and you always thought you'd be grossed out if you ever caught Chris doing anything like that, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.
You sat there, taking drag after drag off your cigarette while you watched Chris enjoying himself in his car. In your deepest, darkest fantasies, you wondered what he sounded like behind the glass windows.
A wetness started to pool between your legs, and it's not that you were jealous that you weren't the one doing it, but.. fuck, were you a little jealous? You watched in awe until you'd smoked your cig all the way down to the filter.
You knew it would be hard to hate Chris and be annoyed with his closing process when your mind was overwhelmed with daydreams about sucking him off. You threw your cigarette on the ground and smushed it into the asphalt with your sneaker.
Thankfully, the night stayed busy, and you were able to keep your mind off the incident momentarily when an older gentleman who immediately caught your eye walked in through the door and sat at the end of the bar. You noted how handsome he was with his salt and pepper hair, his nice suit, and his intense stare. He looked like he could be in his forties, but you didn't mind. You liked older men.
"Whatcha drinking?" You smiled, approaching him. "A double of your finest scotch. Neat," he replied, looking deep into your soul. What a refined drinking order. He paid for his scotch right away, probably not planning on staying very long, but the two of you hit it off.
For next hour or so, he nursed his drink while you got to know a little bit about each other. You learned that he was a professor who taught philosophy, and he learned that you were a avid lover of philosophy. The subject had meandered towards absurdist theory and Albert Camus' works.
"You know, I remain unconvinced that life or anything at all really, has any meaning," you leaned onto the bar, looking into his dark, sultry eyes, "if there is no inherent meaning, then that takes all the pressure off." You grabbed his empty glass off the counter between the two of you, and you gestured to see if he wanted another.
"Please," he accepted, "don't you think it's a little sad if you don't give life some kind of meaning?" He squinted at you, trying to pick your brain.
"No, not at all, because we humans subconsciously give meaning to nearly everything that happens in our everyday lives, and it actually distorts our view of objective reality and keeps us assuming and imprisoned to a slew of reactions based off of a bunch of self-drawn conclusions," you replied, "plus if I were sad about life not having any meaning, I'd be a nihilist, not an absurdist." You topped off his glass and slid it over to him with a smug look on your face.
"Hmm. Smart girl," he responded, picking up his glass and taking a few sips. You liked that you'd found a man who could actually hold an intellectual conversation with you, and you boldly requested his number. He wrote it down on a napkin and slid it over to you.
"Does this mean I'm gonna see you again?" He stared at you longingly. "It can mean whatever you want it to mean," you smirked at him.
When he finished his drink, he pulled out his wallet to pay, but you stopped him. "Last one's on the house. Thanks for the mentally stimulating discussion. I don't get much of that around here," you insisted.
"Maybe that's because you're talking to boys instead of men," he suggestively raised an eyebrow at you and left you a generous tip before leaving the bar.
Shit. You hadn't even caught his name.
The rest of the night went well. It was fast-paced, everyone was in a good mood, and the tips were flowing in. Last call rolled around, and you started to clean up your station. "Who was that pretentious douchebag you were talking to?" Chris came up behind you, rasping directly into your ear and startling you, causing you to drop a shotglass.
If you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little jealous.
"Shit!" You exclaimed, bending down to clean up the broken glass. Chris' eyes were drawn to your perfectly-shaped ass that your jeans hugged so well. "He teaches philosophy at the University. But I didn't catch his name," you replied.
"But you got his number," Chris snatched the folded napkin hanging out of your back pocket. "Give me that back!" You exclaimed, reaching for it as Chris held it above his head.
"I'll give it back to you, but first. You and I need to talk," Chris' tone got a little more serious. "About what?" You asked, picking up on the sudden shift in his voice. "You know, Professor Pretentious was drinking Macallan Scotch Whiskey, don't you?" Chris inquired as if that was supposed to mean something to you. "And?" You asked, shrugging at Chris.
"Do you have any idea how expensive that shit is and how dead you would be if Boss Man knew you were giving it out for free to old men you wanted to bone?" Chris leaned in close and gave you a disappointed look. "Well, we won't know, because he won't find out about it, will he, Chris?" You shot him a look.
"Well, the cameras show you handing him two drinks, but his bill only has one listed," Chris responded, indicating he had evidence. "Chris, come on. You wouldn't do that," you sneered at him. "Sure, I would. Unless you give me something I want. Then I won't tell boss man, and I'll give you professor dickhead's number back," Chris smirked at you deviously.
"What do you want?" You rolled your eyes, not really having a choice but to hear him out. "I'll think about it. In the meantime, I'm gonna go do inventory and count the safe, and you're gonna clean this shit up. Fucking loser," Chris said, motioning towards the broken glass on the ground and rolling his eyes. Then he left out the front door, presumably to go smoke weed in his car.
The clock hit 2:00 a.m. It was the end of the night, and no thanks to Chris, all your closing duties were done even earlier than you'd expected. The two of you were the only staff still there, and you were ready to hear whatever sick ultimatum Chris was about to give to you.
You trudged into the office where he was sitting on his phone with his feet kicked up on the desk. "All done, princess?" Chris asked, lustfully glancing you up and down. "Ew, don't call me that," you responded. "Why? You like it too much?" He chuckled at you.
"What's it gonna take for you to keep your mouth shut and give me back my future husband's phone number?" You crossed your arms, avoiding addressing his accusation. Chris fixed his contemplative eyes on you and gave you a bit of a malicious grin, "All you have to do is let me fuck you."
You were immediately taken aback, thinking you didn't hear him right. "What!?" You swallowed hard and narrowed your gaze at him. He stood up and got into your face, making you feel small and weak. "What? You liked watching me get head in the parking lot, and now you're getting all shy on me?" Chris cooed, stroking your cheek with his knuckles.
Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, and you found yourself unable to say anything. You were completely humiliated by the fact that he'd seen you peeping on him.
"Don't worry, princess. I won't tell anyone you like to watch. But I will tell Boss Man about the scotch if you don't let me do whatever I want to you," he said in a low, sexy voice, his carnal needs carved into the expression on his face.
"It kind of feels like you're not giving me a choice here," you studied his hypnotic blue and eyes and your gaze fell to his full lips.
"Well, then here are your choices. Let me spell them out for you. First scenario, I tell the boss, you get fired, you go work at a new bar, and you never have to see me again. Second scenario, you get on your fucking knees and you let me use that little back-talking mouth of yours and whatever other way I want to have you, and I'll make this whole problem of yours disappear," he winked at you and leaned in, chuckling into your ear,
"And if you choose the last option, I'm just letting you know in advance, I like it disgustingly rough."
part two posted here 💖
taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @munchingmini @butterbean-01 @coolasice01 @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @miss-delicious @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @mattsfavbigtitties @new2024cats4life @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @sturnrc @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @aalirosesblog @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @karttpet @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @slxtformatt @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mynameisuser834 @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx
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mickyschumacher · 3 days
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𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬.
this post is for my sanity but here is a list of drivers i think embody childhood friends to lovers simply just because (not proofread at all):
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oscar piastri. so so so obvious. everything about him screams it. so attentive to everything about you and so goddamn proud of you. definitely only smiles like an idiot around you. refuses any other claims of smiling made by anyone else. the happiest when he's with you. enjoys watching you do something your passionate about. more certain about his feelings (and yours) than you are–like a hundred percent tells you out of the blue and is very persistent on them. like he's not shy about his feelings. but madly blushing and giggling to himself when he's with you. big on hand holding, hugging, cheek kisses... as discussed, he ain't shy. nicole probably tried to get you together first but oscar got embarrassed until he realised he needed her help. has a soft spot not just for you, but your entire presence in his life. oscar also likes to plan his dates with you. anything that makes you happy makes him happy.
mick schumacher. this is also obvious. you and mick have known each other your whole life. rumour has it you were born in cribs next to each other. you both know everything about each other. there for each other's most awkward, saddest, angriest, scariest, funniest moments. not sure if your feelings are real bc everyone from michael and corinna to your grandma has been planning for the both of you to get married. very much a blushing type of guy. he'd happily sit and listen to you yap. enjoys spending time with you no matter what. horse riding, picnics, lunch, long drives... mick would pretend they were dates until he actually told you he liked you. maybe this sounds crazy, but a pinky holder. like before you got together... this drove him crazy. such a simple act but he loves it.
paul aron. the endless nights you spent with each other as children in estonia... they were magical. all summer, you were off to the beach or walking around in the warm evenings to cool off. paul is very much in love with you and has been since he first met you. he tries to play it off, acting all cool about it and what not. "oh her? yeah she's my best friend." very happy to have you as his best friend–definitely brags about you. reality of his pretence: he is an absolute mess around you. always smiling here and there resulting in his brother ralf questioning him. thinking about you 24/7. aka very attentive. if you get sick, absolutely will not stand for it. he enjoys taking care of you. other than being in estonia with you, his favourite time with you is go-karting. teaching you what he's passionate about and then listening you lecture him about how worried you always are... it grounds him.
patricio o'ward. ah pato. the very personification of optimism itself. another one who isn't shy about his feelings but gets shy. he can't help it. how could he not love you? you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. pato loves teasing you. always claims you're smiling because of him, that you're blushing, and, wait for it... that you love him. go figure! (doesn't deny anything when people mistake you for a couple.) pato likes the domestic things with you. yes, he absolutely cherishes seeing you at his races. but he likes when it's just you, him, and norbi. like watching norbi run around the house with muddy paws and you're chasing norbi. loves cooking with you and yapping about the past. secretly enjoys when you and his sister gang up on him because he knows how much elba cherishes you. the best thing, however, is all those things in mexico. p.s. he fake proposed to you when you were kids. has the recording of it and intends to play it at your wedding.
charles leclerc. childhood lovers - CL... it's meant to be. pascale endorsed the idea early on and charles thought his mother was crazy. you were his best friend... you and him? surely not. but then he started seeing you differently. suddenly your smiles were making his heart skip. looking down at your teary-eyed face from a podium made him malfunction. the warmth of your hand was a feeling he yearned for as you consoled him. suddenly his platonic 'i love you' made him breathless and he would spend days learning how to breathe again. you always caught his lingering gazes, immediately for you to look away which got him grinning. was literally told not to tell anyone about signing with ferrari but how could he not tell you? waited for his first win with ferrari to actually tell you he's in love with you. (arthur and lorenzo had never been happier because they had been telling him to do it for years on end.) charles honestly doesn't know how formula one will go for him but he had planned his entire future with you in it. likes to carry a ring around with him because he's always waiting for the perfect moment to pop the question.
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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mssalo · 2 days
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safety - Part: I
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Summary: After years of isolation, Joel Miller's life revolves around control and keeping danger at bay, his past as a soldier leaving him constantly on edge. But when a sweet, soft-spoken young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. Despite his efforts to remain detached, Joel becomes obsessed with keeping her safe from the dangers he’s certain are lurking everywhere.
As his protective instincts morph into darker desires, the lines between safeguarding her and possessing her begin to blur.
Warnings will vary by chapter depending on the content.
Warnings: Dark!Joel, 18+ MDNI, Obsession themes, Stalking, Joel has major Trauma/PTSD, Mentions of military past, Manipulation, Power dynamics, Joel needs a hug and therapy. As per usual.
4k
Enjoy!
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
Joel Miller wasn’t the type of man who sought peace or ease.
He’d spent too many years living a different kind of life-one built around routines of survival, discipline, and a level of alertness that never quite faded.
Now, back in Texas, he carried that constant vigilance like a second skin.
He’d settled in a small, secluded home just outside of Austin.
The area was quiet, isolated, the kind of place where nobody asked too many questions.
The locals respected boundaries, and Joel had made his clear. He kept to himself, lived a simple life, and preferred things that way.
People complicated things—something he wasn’t interested in anymore.
Most of his days followed a routine that he clung to with the same intensity he had in the service.
Early mornings were spent with coffee and silence, the smell of pine trees drifting through the windows of his old, weathered cabin.
Afterward, he'd take to the woods, either hunting or just walking trails he knew as well as the lines in his hands.
Out there, he could let his mind focus on something tangible—the tracks of a deer, the feel of the rifle in his hand.
There, his senses sharpened again, always on alert.
Joel’s awareness never dulled, not even after all these years.
Every noise, every shift in the wind or crunch of leaves beneath his boots, kept him on edge.
He was always scanning his surroundings, ready to react.
He knew it wasn’t just about the hunt.
It was the way his brain had been wired, after all the years of needing to be ready—whether it was for survival or something worse.
It wasn’t paranoia, just the reality of a mind that had been trained for danger. He told himself.
He didn't see many people. He didn’t want to.
But the thing about always being on edge was that it left little room for rest.
At night, the memories clawed their way in—images he’d rather forget but couldn’t.
Sleep was shallow and rare.
Even when he managed to drift off, he was often jolted awake by some phantom noise or sensation.
And once he was up, it was hard to shake the feeling that something or someone was out there.
He’d get up, check the locks, sometimes even patrol the perimeter of his land just to make sure.
In the quiet of his cabin, with only the crackling of a fire or the hum of the wind for company,
Joel would pour himself a drink.
Whiskey, usually. Something to dull the noise in his head, to take the edge off the constant tension that never quite left him.
But he never drank too much. He couldn’t afford to. He needed to stay sharp, always ready—just in case.
His life wasn’t complicated, and he liked it that way. He didn’t need company or connection, not anymore.
He kept things simple: survival, routine, and the solitude of the Texas wilderness.
It asked nothing of him, and in return, he didn’t have to share the parts of himself he’d buried long ago.
· · ─────
Waking up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat had become part of his routine, and after tossing and turning for hours, Joel would get up, make coffee, and try to focus on the small tasks that anchored him.
The sun was just beginning to rise as Joel Miller pushed the key into the ignition of his truck, the familiar rumble beneath him a small comfort in an otherwise uneasy world.
He had always been an early riser, but lately, the habit had turned into more of a necessity.
Driving out into the quiet Texas morning was one of those tasks.
The roads were mostly empty, and Joel preferred it that way—less to watch for, less noise, fewer things to trust.
He liked things simple.
Routine. Predictable.
After everything, it was easier to stick to what he knew, to keep the world at arm's length.
It was safer.
His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as his eyes flicked from side to side, scanning the road ahead and the landscape around him.
There was no telling who or what could be out there, even in a sleepy Texas town.
He wasn’t stupid enough to let his guard down, not after everything he'd seen.
Trust was a currency he couldn’t afford to spend, not anymore.
He kept the radio off, preferring the silence. It gave him space to think, to process.
Most of the time, though, it just made him more aware of the quietness around him.
Every little creak or snap of a twig was magnified, every shadow cast by the rising sun something to take note of.
He didn't trust the peaceful exterior of the world anymore.
Too much could change in an instant.
It was exhausting, always being on edge like that, but Joel had learned to live with it.
He couldn’t imagine doing things any other way.
As he drove further down the road toward the camping&outdoor supply store, he caught a glimpse of something moving in the distance—a flicker of motion between the trees.
His heart quickened, and his foot instinctively lifted off the gas pedal.
He slowed down just enough to check the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the tree line.
Nothing. It could’ve been an animal, but Joel’s mind didn’t let him settle on that.
Even when he convinced himself it was probably just wildlife, he remained alert, tension rippling through his muscles.
"Could be anything," he muttered under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter. "Ain't takin' chances."
The camping store was a bit of a drive, but Joel didn’t mind.
The solitude of the open road helped him clear his head, as much as his thoughts would let him, anyway.
Hunting was something he could still rely on.
He didn't need anyone else for it, and it gave him an excuse to get away from people.
He wasn’t much for conversation these days, always keeping interactions short and transactional.
He liked the supply store too; the guy who ran it knew not to ask too many questions, just handled the sale and let Joel be.
It suited him fine.
As the store came into view, Joel exhaled, his mind already running through what he needed to pick up.
The truck tires crunched against the gravel as he pulled into the lot, parking in a spot that allowed him a clear view of the entrance and the surrounding area.
Old habits.
Joel turned off the ignition and leaned back in the seat, taking a moment to observe the store.
His hand absentmindedly reached toward the glove compartment, where his gun was stashed, just in case. He didn’t need it often, but knowing it was there kept him grounded.
After a few seconds of scanning the area and feeling satisfied that nothing was amiss, he stepped out of the truck.
The supply store wasn’t busy, just a couple of people browsing inside.
As Joel stepped into the store, the familiar scent of leather and canvas greeted him. Country music hummed low in the background, and the quiet atmosphere brought him a sense of calm.
The simplicity of the place was something he appreciated—straightforward, nothing complicated.
Just the way he liked it.
His boots thudded softly on the wooden floor as he made his way toward the back, scanning the shelves for the hunting gear he needed. It was his routine, one he kept to himself.
The sudden crash jolted him like a gunshot.
Joel’s instincts took over, his body reacting before his mind caught up.
His hand flew to his side, fingers brushing the handle of the knife he always kept on him. His eyes darted around the store, scanning for threats, muscles coiled tight and ready.
He felt that old familiar rush of adrenaline—the kind that came from years of having to be on guard every second.
His heart pounded, the edges of his vision sharpening as he prepared for the worst.
But then, he saw her.
Just a girl. Bending over, trying to gather the gear she’d knocked to the floor. No threat. No danger. Just her.
Joel exhaled slowly, the tension easing out of his shoulders as the world settled back into place.
He let go of the knife, though his pulse still hammered in his ears. He hadn’t been expecting someone like her to trigger that reaction. Not here. Not now.
But for some reason, he couldn’t look away.
She was clumsy, but calm—no panic, no rush to fix what she’d done.
It was as if she was used to things slipping from her hands, not bothered in the slightest. That softness, that ease, it drew him in like nothing else had in a long time.
And even though the tension from the noise had faded, he found himself still rooted to the spot, watching her.
His eyes trailed over her, catching the way her long, soft looking, hair tumbled down her back, how her tender fingers fumbled with the items before her.
She was a mess of soft edges, and he hadn’t seen anything that soft in years.
He’s not used to that.
His world had become hard, sharp, filled with things that made sense, with people who didn’t get too close.
People like him, always on edge, always prepared.
She stood up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and for the first time, Joel saw her face.
Young. Too young. Early twenties, maybe.
Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink, her lips parted in what looked like mild embarrassment as she glanced around at the mess she had made.
But it was her eyes that hit him the hardest.
Doe eyed, wide, bright, completely unguarded.
So easy to read.
She looked right at him, her gaze catching his, and Joel’s breath hitched in his chest.
What was this girl doing? Looking at him like that?
She wasn’t supposed to look at him that way—not with that kind of openness, that kind of… trust.
Her blush deepened as her gaze flickered to the ground, but not before Joel saw it creep up her neck, warming her face.
She was blushing because of him.
When was the last time that happened?
“Oh! Sorry,” she said, her voice light, soft, but not the irritating kind of soft.
It was smooth in a way that made something settle in Joel’s chest. Normally, he hated small talk.
People’s voices grated on him. But hers didn’t.
Her voice wrapped around him, warm and gentle, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, Joel didn’t hate it.
“I didn’t see you there,” she continued, letting out a nervous laugh, her hands brushing against the fallen gear.
“I swear, I’m always knocking things over.” She smiled shyly, that blush still clinging to her cheeks, and Joel’s chest tightened again.
She was yapping—just rambling on in a way that would’ve made him turn his back on anyone else. But he couldn’t move.
He was locked in place, listening to her soft, musical voice as if it was something he hadn’t heard in years.
Maybe because it was. Maybe because no one ever talked to him like this anymore.
Most people avoided him.
They saw the hard set of his jaw, the cold glint in his eyes, and they stayed far, far away.
And that was just how he liked it. Less mess, less trouble.
But not her. She was still standing there, babbling about how clumsy she was, her voice a soft hum in his ears.
Joel felt something shift inside him, something he wasn’t sure he liked. He didn’t know her.
Shouldn’t care about her babbling, or the way her scent—something fresh and sweet—drifted toward him, making his head swim.
But here he was, standing there, drinking in her voice, her scent, like he hadn’t been around anyone like her in years.
Which, to be fair, he hadn’t.
Joel cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak, though his voice came out rougher than he’d intended. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he muttered, his words gruff, but his feet still rooted to the spot.
Her smile widened, and her eyes lit up.
The warmth in them caught him off guard. He wasn’t prepared for that.
“Thanks for not laughing at me,” she said with a small, bashful laugh, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her jacket. “Most people would’ve.”
Joel’s brow furrowed. “Why would I laugh?”
She shrugged, glancing at the gear still scattered on the floor. “I’m kind of a mess.”
Her words didn’t sit right with him. How could someone like her—someone so soft, so full of light—call herself a mess? He is a mess.
But before he could respond, she smiled again, her lips curving up in that sweet way that made his chest tighten all over again.
And that scent… God, he couldn’t place it, but it clung to her, swirling around him like a warm blanket.
His mind raced, cataloging every little detail about her.
Her soft pretty eyes. The way her smile made the corners of her eyes crinkle just a little. The way she smelled, like fresh air and something sweet. Vanilla?
He was reading her, studying her like he used to study his surroundings, picking up on every detail.
But none of it made sense. She didn’t make sense.
Normally, he’d be long gone by now. His thoughts already moving on.
But she was still talking, still smiling up at him, and instead of walking away, he just… stared.
She cleared her throat again, glancing down at her hands before looking back up at him.
“Do you work around here?” she asked, her voice a little softer now, a little shyer.
Joel blinked, realizing he hadn’t said a damn thing in what felt like minutes.
He shook his head. “Nah, just pickin’ up some things.” His voice sounded foreign to him—rough, cold, not at all the kind of tone that matched the warmth she was giving him.
But she didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her lips curving up in that smile again.
“Oh, cool. What are you picking up?”
Joel stared at her, unsure of why she was still talking to him, still smiling at him.
But he found himself answering her anyway. “Just some gear. Hunting stuff.”
Her eyes brightened, her smile widening even more. “Oh, hunting! That’s cool. I’ve never been, but I always thought it seemed kind of… peaceful, you know? Just you and nature.”
Peaceful? Joel had never thought of hunting as peaceful. Necessary, sure. But peaceful? Not in the way she was describing.
He grunted, not sure how to respond, but she just kept smiling, her voice still light, still soft.
“Oh, gosh,” she said, standing up with a bundle of fallen gear in her hands, a sheepish smile on her face. “I could never hurt an animal, though. I don’t know how people do it. Like, I get hunting and all, but... me? No way. I’d be useless out there.”
Joel’s brow furrowed, still caught between the sharp edge of his earlier reaction and the softness of her voice.
“Right,” he muttered, nodding slightly, feeling more awkward than he had in years.
“Well,” Joel grunted, his voice a little rougher than intended, “it ain’t about enjoyin’ it. It’s necessary. You do what you gotta do.”
And for the life of him, Joel couldn’t understand why he didn’t just walk away.
He should’ve. He should’ve grabbed what he needed and left.
But something about her—her scent, her smile, her softness—kept him rooted in place.
He wasn’t good at this. Talking. Interacting. Especially not with someone like her—someone who looked at him like he wasn’t something to be avoided.
But she was smiling at him, her eyes wide and innocent, like she wasn’t aware of how the world really worked.
Before he could say anything else, he saw her blush deepen, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket.
She was nervous, but not in the way people usually got around him.
She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t backing away.
She was blushing because of him.
Hm?
As the awkward silence stretched between them, Joel cleared his throat, the sound rough and abrupt.
He hadn’t realized how long he’d been standing there, just staring at her while she kept talking, her soft voice filling the space between them.
He needed to go.
This whole interaction had lasted far too long, longer than he was comfortable with.
His chest tightened with a mix of confusion and frustration, and he could feel the tension creeping into his limbs, urging him to move, to walk away.
She was still smiling at him, her eyes bright, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside him.
“Right,” Joel muttered, his voice gruffer than he intended.
“I should… get goin’.” He nodded awkwardly toward the hunting gear in his hand, using it as an excuse to leave.
Her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes flickering with a hint of confusion.
“Oh, sure! No problem,” she said quickly, her voice still sweet, but there was something softer in it now, like she wasn’t quite sure what she’d done wrong.
Joel could feel her eyes on him as he turned away, the tension in his shoulders growing with every step he took.
He forced himself to keep walking, not allowing himself to glance back, not letting himself think about the way her scent still lingered in the air around him.
As he pushed open the door of the shop, the cool air hit his face, a stark contrast to the warmth that had been building inside him.
He needed to get out of there. Now.
“Have a good day!” she called after him, her voice still light, still warm.
Joel didn’t respond.
He just kept walking, his boots heavy against the gravel as he made his way to his truck, his mind already trying to shove the whole interaction into the back of his mind.
It shouldn’t have affected him like that.
Joel climbed into his truck, the door creaking as it shut with a heavy thud.
The sun was setting, casting a golden light over the horizon, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.
His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he sat there, staring straight ahead.
He let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had settled deep in his chest.
That girl—he couldn’t get her out of his head. It didn’t make sense.
Her smile. The way her cheeks flushed when she looked at him.
The softness in her voice, the way she smelled—fresh, sweet, and somehow... so pure.
His brow furrowed as the memory tugged at him, gnawing at the edges of his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
He hadn’t felt like this in years—hadn’t felt much of anything, to be honest.
And yet, there it was. Something stirring inside him, something he couldn’t ignore.
With a grunt, he turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life.
He needed to get his mind straight, back to reality, back to the things that actually mattered.
Surviving.
Not some girl in a supply shop.
It couldn’t be because of her.
But as he shifted the truck into gear, his grip on the wheel tightened even more.
He couldn’t deny the physical reaction in his body—the tension building low in his gut, the heat rising through his chest.
Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his breath catching for a moment.
He hadn’t even noticed it before, hadn’t allowed himself to.
But now, as he adjusted himself, the realization hit him with a force that nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs.
He was hard.
His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of it settling low in his gut.
How long had it been?
He couldn’t even remember the last time he felt like this, the last time his body reacted this way.
But it couldn’t be because of the girl in the shop, right?
“Jesus.” He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck tightening as he fought the urge to dwell on it. “There was no way.”
She was just a kid. I mean, a woman sure. But so young, soft, innocent.
Completely the opposite of everything he was—everything he’d become.
Joel’s grip on the steering wheel tightened even further, his mind racing.
This was wrong. He shouldn’t be thinking about her like this, shouldn’t be feeling this way.
But the more he tried to push it down, the more it rose to the surface.
Her voice, the way she’d blushed when she looked at him, the scent of her clinging to the air around her like a warmth he hadn’t known he needed.
Joel shifted again, trying to shake the thoughts from his head. He’d drive home, clear his mind, and forget about it.
Forget about her.
But as he drove down the empty road, the tension in his body only seemed to build. It had been years. Years since anyone, or anything, had made him feel like this.
And the truth gnawed at him, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
It was because of her.
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
moodboard:
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· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
New series incoming!! Thank you for the nice comments, they make me the most motivated to keep writing. :)
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cheynovak · 1 day
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Sleeping beauty
Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     
Summary: REQUEST: Dean sees Y/N sleeping, in his bed, in his shirt and it drives him insane. The heat he feels rushing through his veins. And it's all because she looks so good while sleeping. He just can't keep his hands to himself.
Warnings: 18+ Explicit, Somno, mastrubating, unprotected P in V, slight dominance, ...
English is not my first language 
*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 
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Dean pushed open the heavy metal door of the bunker with a quiet grunt, his entire body aching from the hunt. The long drive back had done nothing to ease the tension in his muscles, and the only thing on his mind was crashing in his bed. Dean pushed open the heavy metal door of the bunker with a quiet grunt, his entire body aching from the hunt. The long drive back had done nothing to ease the tension in his muscles, and the only thing on his mind was crashing in his bed.
It was late—really late. The dim lights of the bunker cast a soft, familiar glow over the stone walls, offering a kind of comfort he rarely admitted to feeling.
The hunt had been brutal, but it was over. For now, at least. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, feeling the grit of the day clinging to him like a second skin.
All he wanted was to crawl under his sheets and sleep for as long as his mind would allow, which wasn’t ever as long as he hoped.
Kicking off his boots near the war room, planning on taking a quick shower, just to clean up before going to bed. Or that was what he thought he'd do. He padded silently down the hall toward his room.
As he got closer, a sense of something different hit him—something warm, something familiar. The door to his room was slightly open, a thin warm light spilling into the hallway from the bedside lamp.
Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, but the weariness in his body kept him from thinking too much about it.Pushing the door open, he froze in the doorway.
There, nestled in the middle of his bed, lay Y/N.
She was on her side, facing away from him, curled up in the middle of his bed like she belonged there.
The soft fabric of his worn, oversized flannel shirt draped loosely over her body, the sleeves bunched around her hands.
The sheets were tangled between her legs, one knee tucked up and the other stretched out, the thin blanket doing little to hide her body. Her hair spilled across the pillow, framing her peaceful face.
Her hip and ass showing over the sheets since she wore little to nothing except a pair of panties, Oh god... what is she doing to me!
Dean couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. His eyes glued on her body. A part of him was surprised, but another part—one he rarely allowed to surface—felt like this was right. Like seeing her here was what he needed after a hunt like that.
After a life like this. Come home, find her naked or nearly naked in bed, fuck her till he find sleep himself.
His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer. Before he silently took his fresh shirt and boxers to go shower. While he closed the door behind him softly he kept looking not to wake her.
His mind spiralled in the shower. Why was she there? Did she miss him or maybe her own hunt was shitty and she needed him?
But all he could think of was her curves, how her ass lifted in the air, calling his name. Dean's cock was throbbing, his hand moved instinctively to it, making the release quick and hard.
But the second he turned the shower off, thanks to his own vivid imagination, he was hard again.
He walked back to his room, half expecting Y/N to be gone. But no... she was still there, in the same position.
The soft rise and fall of her breath was the only sound in the room, the quiet rhythm calming something deep inside of him. She looked peaceful, completely at ease. It was such a stark contrast to the usual chaos of their lives. And she was in his bed, wearing his shirt.
She turned a little more, showing herself a little better. Dean’s lips quirked up into the faintest hint of a smile. She is asking for it.
He stepped forward quietly, not wanting to disturb her, and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight, but Y/N only stirred for a second before settling back into her dreams.
She looked so small wrapped in his clothes, the shirt swallowing her frame, and the sight did something to his heart (and cock) he couldn’t quite explain.
For a while, Dean just watched her sleep. His eyes traced the soft lines of her face, the way her lashes brushed her cheeks, how her lips parted slightly with each breath. Hands hovering over her curves wanting to touch her skin.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, just soaking in the moment, but for once, there was no urgency. No looming threat, no ticking clock. Just her, and the quiet sound of their breathing. Unless he counted his erection as a ticking time bomb...
They often enough had a quick fuck during or after a hunt. Just to release stress, this wasn’t different, all though he tried to ignore the sensation his cock was giving him. Just releasing stress.
He leaned back slightly, his hand coming so close to touch her. The warmth of her skin was a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, and he found himself wondering again how she’d ended up here.
Did she miss him while he was gone? Had she come looking for comfort in his absence? Or was she desperately looking for sex. That wouldn't be a first.
They shared a bed... couch... car... They settled boundaries before. And this was something he knew she'd be into.
His hand now warm on her hip made her lean closer to him, showing him a little more.
His flannel hung loosely off her shoulder, exposing the smooth skin of her collarbone, seeing how she was naked under his shirt.
Fuck! Dean had to fight the urge to reach out, to touch her, to pull her close, to knead and feel her breasts, feel how her soft nipple hardened with his touch.
Instead, he let out a soft sigh and ran a hand down her leg.
Carefully, not to wake her, Dean turned beside her on the bed, The mattress shifted slightly, and Y/N stirred again, her brow furrowing for a moment before she relaxed once more. Dean turned on his side, facing her, his head resting on the pillow just inches from hers.
But he couldn't stop himself. His hand moved slowly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. The touch was so light, so careful, as if he was afraid of shattering the calm of the moment.
His fingers moved over her collarbone to her breast softly kneading her flesh.
As if sensing his presence even in her sleep, Y/N shifted closer to him. Her body instinctively pressed into his, her ass moving against his hips.
Dean’s breath hitched at the contact, the feel of her so close sending a warmth through him. Fuck he needed her!
She mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his sheets. Dean chuckled softly under his breath, a rare sound in the stillness of the room.
“You always steal my shirts.” he whispered, even though he knew she wouldn’t hear him. His voice was rough with exhaustion and need but soft, the kind of tone he only used when it was just the two of them.
"This time you'll need to pay for it princess." He whispered while his hand dipped between her legs. Unknowingly she let him, moving her leg a little higher. "Fuck you're so wet already... did you...?" his voice broke off.
Would she? The idea of her playing with herself in his bed, in his flanel drove him insane. Her breath became deeper while his fingers played with her. Drawing slow easy circles on her clit.
He tugged her panties aside, before he freed his throbbing dick from his boxers. No longer able to wait, he rubbed himself against her wet core. The feeling almost enough to come then and there.
Seeing how her panties get wet with their movement.
A soft moan escaped her mouth, "D-Dean?" her voice sounded sleepy. Her hand moved back, trying to find him, and she did, pretty easily she found the back of his head, pulling him closer.
His other arm slid under her, pulling her just a little closer, and she instinctively settled into him, her head now resting against his chest.
"Shh..." He whispered. He turned her on to her belly, granting himself more access. Her hand kneading the pillow while he adjusted himself. Pulling her panties further down. Kneading her ass, kissing her flesh.
He guided himself inside, feeling her thighten just a little by the surprise of him. Her body reacted, a soft "Mhm." escaped her mouth, not knowing weither she was fully awake or he'd just given her a great dream.
"D-Dean?" she moaned sleepy. "What are you...Oh!" He leaned in closer, thrusting all the way in "Just enjoy baby." He said before he kissed her neck. She was clearly awake now, pushing her ass up so he could thrust deeper.
His hand fisted her hair, "Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing to me? Sleeping in my bed, halve naked."
"Mhm..."
"What did you think of when you tickled that pretty little cunt of yours." Her head lifted. He knew... but he bit playfully in her neck. to hold her down. @kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-winchester @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78
"I felt it... while you where sleeping, I felt how wet you where without me even touching you." A breathy "Oh." escaped her mouth.
"You wanted me to fuck your sleeping pussy didn't you."
All she could was moan in response.
"Yes..."
--
Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.
Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :) @yvonneeeee @kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28
@jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-winchester @winchesterwild78
@deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78
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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 days
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He Protecc ; She Sit Pretty
How I imagine the LADS Men react to someone hurting/disrespecting you. Even though MC can very well handle herself in many situations there's nothing wrong with a protective man.
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Zayne
Type: Stern | De-escalator | Don't Start Nothin' Won't Be Nothin'
If Zayne were to witness someone hurting or disrespecting you he wouldn't immediately resort to violence. His cold demeanor speaks for him. He would grab you putting himself between you and your attacker and with a voice as cold as ice "Is there a problem?" He's a gentleman he won't immediately fight someone barefoot in the streets. He'd remove you from harms way and asses the situation.
Zayne is not one to start anything, but when it comes to the one he adores he will in fact finish it.
He would let your attacker ramble nonsense before turning to you rubbing your shoulders telling you it's okay. He would turn back to your attacker and with a voice as smooth as silk with unwavering confidence "Now I'm sure this could have all been a misunderstanding however, if you'd like to put up a fight you’re welcome to settle this with me"
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Rafayel
Type: Extremely confrontational | All fight no flight | Condescending
In an alternate universe somewhere Rafayel is a street fighter or mma fighter or something I swear. This man is all fight no flight he's not de-escalating shit he's matching energy. If he happens to see someone putting their hands on you he's grabbing their wrist and wrenching it backwards while they scream in pain "Who said you can touch her?"
If he catches someone disrespecting you don't even sweat it. He would make your attacker feel less than the gum stuck to the side of a trash can. He is not playing any games about you. If people want to go low he's going to hell. He doesn't care about anyones feelings except yours.
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Xavier
Type: Confrontational | All fight no flight | Silent Threat
Xavier doesn't need to say much when protecting you. He immediately pulls you behind him and sizes up your attacker. His demeanor is as sharp as a blade. "Walk away" is his only warning if your attacker tries to pop off at the mouth Xavier is immediately summoning his hunters sword and in an instant showing said attacker he could have severed their head if he wanted to. His two worded warning was not a suggestion.
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Sylus
Type: Condescending | Intimidation | All fight no flight
Attacking/hurting you: Sylus is turning them into black and red energy he don't have time for that. Stop playing in his face.
Disrespecting you: He’s walking up and grabbing you by the waist immediately asking “What’s going on over here?” He would make them feel as if he’s sympathizing with them before completely crushing their spirit with a devilish smirk on his face. He would have them questioning their entire existence in that moment. He’d end the conversation with a smooth “Let’s get going sweetie” pulling you along with him leaving that person with tears in their eyes.
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the fire in his eyes - r.c.
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↳PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader
↳SUMMARY:jj maybank had done a lot of stupid shit in his life but threatening to kill you was at the top of the list.
↳ WARNINGS: mature themes, mentions of anxiety, gunshots, gun use, major character death (implied - doesn't happen), gun violence, violence, protective!rafe, etc.
↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blogs @illicitfixations, @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.
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At the Boneyard, Kooks didn't have rich parents watching over their every move, and pogues got to party without the police shutting them down. They didn't have parents to bribe the law enforcement like the rich kids did, after all. It was a win-win situation. You and Sarah kept it a tight-lipped secret, but parties at the Boneyard had always been their favorites. As you climbed out of Sarah's black Volvo, you two shared a conspiratorial look, matching grins on your faces. Rafe put his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him and leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You heard a whistle from the crowd, and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You could feel the eyes of other partygoers on them as you all walked in, clinging to your every move. Topper grabbed a cooler of beers he’d brought with you guys, and cheers echoed from your onlookers.
"Rafe, mind if I borrow your girl?" Sarah's voice was syrupy-sweet, and Rafe shot her a glare, but relinquished his hold on you. 
Without giving you a moment's notice, Sarah grabbed your hand eagerly, snatching you away.
When you next glanced at your boyfriend, he'd busied himself with Topper and the beers. Predictable.
"Look at this, Y/N.” Sarah said, out of breath as you two stopped running. 
Above you towered a red buoy, the kind designed to ward off the big trawlers and cargo ships when they came a little too close to shore.
“You can see it all from up here.”
You heard footsteps, and glanced over her shoulder, seeing Topper advancing towards you two.
"Your bitch is here.” You teased, and Sarah glanced over her shoulder.
"Shut up."
"Sarah! Be careful!" Topper hurried over, worry plain in his voice, and you rolled your eyes.
"I'Il leave you to it.” You called out, and Sarah smiled down at you, waving her goodbye.
You crossed your arms around yourself, looking at the scene around you. There were people
everywhere, Pogues and Kooks in distinct groups,
miniature versions of the Cut and Figure Eight.
"Looking hot as always, princess.” A voice whistles from the side. 
You turn your head, seeing JJ trailing his eyes up and down your figure. You roll your eyes, flipping him off with a fake sweet smile, then walking away.
You made your way to your friends - Rafe’s arms calling your name. You belonged in them like the wind in a hurricane, one just simply couldn’t be without the other. 
The journey across the beach and into the arms of the boy you loved was long and grueling, your feet felt like lead as they drug against the cool of the sand. The promise of Rafe’s touch was enough to make you keep going as your eyes raked over his form at a distance. 
He was laughing with his friends, a yellow shirt gripping his biceps and pink board shorts wrapped around his thighs. His feet were exposed against the sand and a baseball cap sat backwards in his head. You came up from behind him, wrapping your small arms around his middle, trailing your fingers up around his pectoral muscles. 
“Can I buy you a drink, handsome?” You whispered into his shoulder, not tall enough to reach his ear. You felt his muscles relax against your touch. 
“I’m pretty sure the booze is free, we’re at a kegger. Plus, I don’t think my girl would like that very much.” He replied with a smile, turning around to bring you into his chest. “Hey, pretty girl. Missed you.”
Suddenly, Rafe's grip on your waist tightens a bit and a scoff slips from his mouth. It's not long before you notice what forced the change in his
demeanor. Two Pogues, JJ and you couldn't quite remember the other boy’s name, but you recognized him as a friend of Kiara’s. 
"Just walk, don't look at them.” You hear the unknown boy whisper to JJ and it almost brings a smile to your face.
"How do you walk past Kooks and not look at them in all their fucking glory?” The sarcasm seeped from JJ’s lips, purposely making his voice loud enough for you all to hear.
"Hey, princess. When you get bored of this polo wearing asshole..." his words directed toward you as his holds his hand up to his ear with the phone gesture, "call me," he mouths. 
His friend immediately pulled JJ further in the opposite direction before Rafe could so much as
even think to put his hands on him.
"Don't.” You place your hand on Rafe's chest, as he noticeably gets angry. He just glances down at you in confusion. "His time will come.” You reassure your boyfriend, your smile almost as menacing as the one now on Rafe's face. 
He simply nodded along to your words, letting his grip on your waist finally lighten up a bit.
You and Sarah were growing bored as your boys were talking about perfecting their swings for what felt like hours upon hours and you two were looking for any excuse to retreat back to the keg. 
“Sarah and I are going to get another drink. You guys want anything?" You ask, backing away toward the keg already. 
“Nah, I’m good.” Kelce replies, Topper and Rafe agreeing all too intrigued with their conversation about that God forsaken sport. 
You just shake your head and the two of you start walking towards the keg. Your walk was pretty peaceful, but of course that couldn't last for long. You watched as JJ walked in your direction.
"Y/N L/N." Your full name rolled off his tongue,
albeit a little slurred.
"Hi?" Your voice was questioning, and you could only hope you got across your utter confusion as to what he was doing standing in front of you. 
He raised his eyebrows at you, and held out his cup to you silently. Your eyes darted downwards and back up to him again, looking at the murky liquid dubiously. As far as you were concerned, he could've been poisoning you.
"No, thanks."
"Don't you trust me?"
You let the words hang. You knew he knew the answer to that question. JJ waved the cup in front of your face once again, jolting you back to the present.
"Lighten up, princess.” 
You chuckled lowly, though the laugh had no real humour behind it. “Fuck off, Pogue.” 
You met his eyes again, and the corner of his lip quirked up ever so slightly. He looked almost a little stunned. 
"Where'd you learn to swear, princess? The country club?"
"Where'd you learn to swear? Jail?" You bit back, and JJ grinned.
"Juvie, dumbass.” He replied, eyebrows raised. "C'mon. One sip."
“I believe the lady said no, Maybank.” You heard your boyfriend’s merciless voice cut off the intense tension that you and JJ were now sharing. 
"Rafe! Buddy! How are you?"
The taste of beer in the back of your throat turned rancid. This was not going to end well. The muscles in Rafe’s jaw were tensed, sharp lines against the contours of his skin.
"What, is it not fancy enough for you?" JJ kept being persistent. 
"No. We were just leaving."
"Hey, you know what? I'll take it." Topper interrupts JJ, and you start to fear what might happen. 
"Thank you, man. I appreciate it."
"That's nice, but I didn't ask you. If you said pretty please, maybe, but you didn't."
"Oh, pretty please."
"Yeah. Sarah? How about you?” JJ tried to give her the cup.
"Pretty please?"
"You can have it." JJ insists on giving Sarah the cup.
"She doesn't want it, you-" Topper just spills the drink into JJ's face. 
JJ hits Topper, while John B and Sarah attempt to separate them.
"Dirty Pogues!" Topper screams and John B loses it and hits him.
"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?" 
People around you scream "Fight! Fight! Fight!" like this is some kind of joke.
The guys continue, and it seems like there are only three sane people in the middle of this, trying to stop it: you, Sarah and Kiara.
Things are getting pretty violent. Topper is holding John B's head, and he's slowly drowning him. Everyone around us is either inciting it or screaming, trying to end it. That's too much for you to watch, so you hide inside Rafe's arms and he pulls you closer.
Out of nowhere, someone screams, "He's got a gun" and you turn to see JJ with a gun pointed at Top's head.
"JJ, stop! Put the gun down!" Sarah screams desperately.
"Did you say something, princess?" He holds his position.
"JJ, what the fuck? Do you know what you are doing? Calm down, please."
"Oh, does princess number two want to join the ‘save the asshole’ party?" 
Your breath hitched in your throat as the cool metal met your temple – you had never been a fan of guns – but you wished that you knew how to use one or atleast how to defend yourself against someone with one as JJ Maybank bore the side of the pistol in his hand into your skull like his life depended on it. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you noted the panic that ran through them, though you knew no one else would and you thanked God for that, because if they had you were sure you would die on this beach, leaving Rafe to cradle what was left of your lifeless body. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion and you could barely hear Rafe’s words or the words of the pogues as they stood by, begging JJ to put the gun down. 
"You better get the gun away from her or I swear to God, your friends will be burying you tonight.” Rafe breathes, almost too calmly. “You know who has more power between us. I can make your life a living hell more than it is now.” 
Everyone knows that's true, even JJ himself. Yet, he didn’t seem to care about that at the moment, all he cared about was getting even with Rafe Cameron, the kook king himself and that’s what he thought he was doing when he pulled the trigger sending a harsh air into the side of your temple. You dropped to the sand and Rafe’s heart stopped for a split second as he raced over to your form. He gripped your cheeks, looking over your face, begging you to say anything as he searched for any source of blood, any place that a bullet would have entered your body. 
“Baby – Baby – talk to me, please!” 
You were dazed, your mind reeling. You wondered if you had been shot, if this was it for you, if you were dying – is this what dying felt like? You couldn’t make your mouth form words and your ears rang. Rafe shook you once again, forcing you to look into his eyes.
“Sweet girl, what hurts? Are you hurt?!” 
You could only shake your head no as he looked over you and once he received confirmation that you were okay, he ordered Kelce to watch over you as he made his way over to where JJ stood. JJ looked in Rafe’s direction, knowing he had fucked up, knowing he was about to take the beating of his life. Rafe stalked towards him, anger pulsating through every vein in his body in a way that it never had. Pogues had always pissed him off or been a nuisance to him, but this – this was life or death – this was you and he couldn’t stand by and let these fuckers think they could get away with that. JJ shrunk into himself, thinking about making a break for it and Topper must’ve noticed, because he got to him before Rafe did, jerking him up by the collar of his shirt and snickering. 
“Listen, bud, accept your fate now – Rafe’s gonna kill you.” 
He chuckled and JJ’s fear made itself known as he tried to squirm out of Topper’s grasp. And just as he did, ready to make a break for it and leave his friends to fend for themselves, Rafe stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. 
“And, uh – just where do you think you’re going?” 
He growled. 
“Listen man –” 
JJ was cut off by Rafe’s forehead connecting with his nose, knocking him back abruptly. 
“No, see –, listening after you pull a gun on my girl? That doesn’t work for me.” 
His voice was sinister, yet cool and calm and ready – ready to kill his first pogue. Rafe shoved JJ back even further, his head connecting with the sand. Rafe’s only thought in that moment elicited a snicker from him as he thought about his tiny pogue brain shaking around in his head at the impact. He thought about it again as he ripped the gun from JJ’s grasp and knocked it against his nose, the crunch of his bones could be heard across the beach and Rafe let out a laugh. 
“If you think that hurts, you’re not gonna survive what comes next.” 
Topper snickered, bringing a beer to Rafe’s attention, handing it to him. Rafe’s demented and angry state gave him an idea and before he could even think he spit into the long-neck beer bottle, swishing the remaining liquid around and passing it back to Topper who spit in it as well and handed it back to Rafe. 
“Maybank, you uh–, you thirsty? I got something for you.” 
Rafe laughed menacingly, turning back to the crowd that had gathered around them on the beach before kneeling over JJ while Topper held down his shoulders against the sand and Rafe poured the tainted liquid down his throat. JJ kicked and attempted to scream, but his yells were muffled against the cool liquid as he fought against it. 
“Don’t fight it, princess.” 
Topper snickered, his grip on JJ’s shoulder’s tightening to prevent him from squirming away from Rafe. 
“Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” 
John B yelled, emerging from the crowd. 
“Trust me, JB, I’m not even close to killing him yet and when I am it’ll be justified. He almost took my world away from me, killing him wouldn’t be enough.” 
Rafe spoke through gritted teeth and threw the beer bottle to the side, stradling JJ and beginning to hit him over and over. 
-
You sat on the sand, Kelce’s strong arm wrapped around your waist as you tucked your knees further into your chest and laid your head on top of them. Rafe came barreling toward you, stopping as he took in the tears that were running down your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you chanted to yourself “Rafe’s coming soon” over and over in a hushed whisper. His heart broke and the sight and he was filled with regret for leaving you with Kelce of all people while you were in this state. He knelt in front of your face, tucking the hair behind your ears and it was like almost immediately, you knew the touch was his. Your eyes flew open, and at the sight of him you cried even harder – a mix of fear and anger washed over you; anger at JJ, fear of Rafe being shot the way you almost had been. You jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over, but he steadied as he wrapped his arms around you and situated you on his lap. You buried your head in his chest and he wrapped one arm under your knees and the other around the back of your hair, pooling it in his hands. You tucked your face as deep into his chest as you could and he placed a kiss on your temple. 
“Hey, sweet girl. Talk to me, baby.” 
“Scared – wanna g-go home.” 
“Okay, mama. We’re going.” 
He whispered against your hairline, pushing himself off the ground by his legs and shifting you in his broad arms before carrying you bridal-style to his truck. 
272 notes · View notes
icallhimjoey · 2 days
Note
Not sure if you've done this but it fits the general mood of the fandom lately: I want grovel-y Joe. Knows he really fucked up but he's a guy so he doesn't know how to fix it so he just throws anything at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly we're not sure if we'll forgive him but we're definitely sticking around to see how far he's willing to go.
(yes I am in therapy 🤣)
okay im using this request to fix whatever that bullshit was that i wrote before this - hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 3.8K
---
I'll Let The Sun Decide
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Joe realises it in the morning. Feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.
Correction: the biggest fucking idiot on the moon.
He watches you walk out of his bedroom after leaving a perfect cup of coffee, exactly how he likes it, on his bedside table and everything about that makes his heart ache.
After the way he behaved last night, he knows he doesn't deserve a sweet gesture from the girl who looks like she only managed to sleep for about two hours.
You look exhausted.
He only catches a glimpse of you, and a few seconds later he can hear the coffee machine go again. You're making a coffee for yourself after making him one, and Joe can't help but groan his face into his pillow.
Fuck.
He didn't reach out for you in the night.
Your one fucking rule.
He vaguely remembers going, "Hmm?" after he raised his head off his pillow in a jolt.
"Just me." You'd whispered, nothing malicious hidden in your voice, because it was after midnight and it wasn't the time to continue whatever you'd started earlier that evening.
He should've reached over then.
He hadn't. Not even a knee to your thigh, or a toe to your foot.
Nothing.
He should've been happy you'd come back to his flat instead of going to your own. You could've so easily decided to avoid him for a bit, but you didn't. You said you'd come back, and then you did, and, fuck.
He hadn't reached out.
He hadn't even read the texts you'd sent. Left you with a bunch of grey ticks.
Well.
He had read them, but only in the notification bar.
He'd seen the messages about you making it to the office safely. Of how Charlotte was there too - you'd do the work together and you'd be done much faster that way. A little later of how you'd just be another hour, and of how you'd let him know when you'd leave.
He wanted you to feel bad about choosing your work over him, so he withheld the coloured ticks and had felt real fucking smug over it. It was sickening how right he'd felt about his actions in the moment. Every petty little thing justified, just because you'd hurt his feelings.
You'd climbed into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and the feeling of movement next to him pulled him from his slumber. And then, instead of reaching over like he should have done, he had sighed all heavily, like he was really fucking annoyed that you'd woken him up as you got comfortable under his covers. He'd rolled over and ignored you. Turned his back and festered in his own anger like a moody teenager because he truly believed you deserved it.
What a fucking loser.
Didn't touch you all night.
The realisation slaps him in the face unexpectedly, and your early-morning kind gesture is what flips the entire script. What a fucking loser of a boyfriend.
You've made the deadline.
Joe sees it when he opens his messages after taking a perfect sip of hot coffee, and it's weird how he feels awful about himself and proud of you at the same time.
He didn't need to let the world burn over such a tiny inconvenience.
Joe hates the moon.
Longs for the sun.
The moon is cold and dark and he's all alone up there, only warmed by the light the sun will bring him.
The sun. Or, the messy-haired girl with tired eyes in soft clothes too big for her body who brought him a hot cup of coffee before she even made one for herself. Either or. Same thing.
Joe stares at your messages in silence, gives you the coloured ticks he should've given you last night, and feels heavy guilt find home in the pit of his stomach.
You finished all the work in time. Probably have done a real good job at it too. Did it at the office, away from Joe's bad temper, and managed to actually focus and forget about how he told you to fuck off when you were already on your way out anyway.
What a dick-move.
Fragile ego syndrome, you'd guessed then.
That dick-move is what had you second-guessing going back over to Joe's for a while. Maybe going back to your own flat was the smarter idea. Avoid the confrontation and just text him the next day, after he'd cooled off a bit.
Maybe he'd actually read those then.
Another dick-move.
Joe could be so annoying sometimes, but it was easy to read him and you knew that just a little consideration of your time would fix whatever this silly issue was. With that in mind, you'd made your way back over to his.
You knew his dick-moves only meant he was going to feel bad about himself come tomorrow morning.
And you were right.
Besides an annoyed sigh and a soft grumble, you didn't get much else from him when you got into bed.
That was fine.
Again, you didn't think it was the right time to continue a fight anyway.
But the morning brought something new.
You woke up before Joe did and it took a few seconds for you to remember. To realise your prediction was right. Joe hasn't reached out in the night. No silent I still love you touch under the covers for you.
And it stings.
Could make you cry if you thought about it long enough.
Joe's stayed on his side of the bed, facing away from you, and you tell yourself that at least you've come back to his flat like you said you would. You finished the work you had to finish, and did the right thing by returning.
But then, you concluded, you also haven't reached out to him at all, and immediately felt bad.
Joe can be so annoying sometimes, but you do still love him, and a warm palm to a shoulder blade could've at least let him know.
It would've made you the bigger person.
Which, you still were. You came back, didn't you? But Joe was being an absolute child and you didn't want to sink down to his level.
You should've reached over. Should've touched him. You have no good excuse for not following the one rule you came up with after your first real argument, and now you feel bad.
Shit.
The coffee is to make up for it. At least a little. To say, I'm sorry I didn't reach out, here's me doing that now.
"Morning," you whispered when you saw him stir and open a squinty, confused eye.
You didn't wait for a reply. Just left the coffee there and walked back to go and make yourself one too.
Joe watched you leave and the moon came crashing down.
He knows what the coffee means.
He's read your messages, can hear you make breakfast in his kitchen and decides he needs to reach out too. With his coffee in hand, he gets up and makes his way over to his living area where he finds you rubbing your fist into an eye through a yawn, with a carton of eggs in the other hand.
"Morning," he croaks, and sees how it's only just starting to get light outside, it's so early still.
It feels a little weird and embarrassing to speak to you right now. To remember how you'd been in this same room just a few hours ago, and he'd told you to fuck off.
Fuck off, he'd said. To his girlfriend. Had meant it with his whole chest too. What a fucking idiot.
You turn your head to give him a small smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and ask, "Do you want some eggs?"
The moon can die.
He doesn't want the moon.
The moon is too far from the sun. He wants you closer and happy and well-rested and for your smile to overtake your whole lovely beautiful face when you see him and he hasn't got the faintest clue where to even start to fix it.
He doesn't know how to turn all the feelings in his chest into words to convey how sorry he feels. Has no idea what to say. Has no idea how you'll react to a verbal apology either.
But you look so soft, shoulders slouched, the scrunched up bit of fabric that held your hair up and out of your face as you slept about to slip out. And, even though he can tell it's not a real smile, you're still giving him a kind face. You're being civil.
You've made him a coffee how he likes it and just offered to make him some eggs and, Jesus, he's just the most awful person ever, isn't he?
The overwhelming need to wrap himself around all of you takes over.
Joe leaves his coffee on the side and steps closer to attach himself to your back. You accept it, and he can feel how you let your head rest against the side of his as he hugs you, arms tight around your waist.
He's glad that you let him.
But he also feels the defeat there.
The, Joe what the fuck, that's waiting to slip out of your mouth. Maybe it's why you're keeping things surface level. No time or energy to get into an actual conversation right now. Just breakfast eggs and perfect coffee.
That's okay.
Joe doesn't know what to say anyway, and he'd love some eggs, actually.
"I'd love some, but," Joe kisses the side of your face, does it quick so he doesn't have to feel you pull away from it, and then gently moves you aside. "Let me."
A first attempt at fixing it.
Joe finishes breakfast whilst you go for the quickest shower of your life. When you turn the water off he asks what time you need to leave from the kitchen. His eyes find your coffee that's going cold, and he thinks it's so stupid that you have to be back at work so soon.
This time he doesn't feel sorry for himself, though. This time he feels sorry for you.
It's a big difference.
You've only just left the office, Joe thinks. And sure, sometimes he makes long hours and feels like he lives on set, but you're in an office.
He knows that's different.
Worse.
You've got to go and present all the things you've finished and he knows you like it just as much as he does. That being: not at all. There's no use in getting angry at you.
He sees that now.
You're just as much at fault for not being able to go out with him last night as he is. That being: not at all.
Joe watches you take a few hurried mouthfuls of egg on toast, and he wants to tell you sorry before you leave.
He doesn't.
Isn't sure how, and feels like a literal child because, Jesus Christ, they're just words.
But you smile at him, even though it's only small. And you let him kiss your cheek on your way out. And when you've left, it's not even eight o'clock, which is too fucking early, and he decides he needs to give you more quiet I love yous that he didn't give you under the covers in the night the way he should've done.
You get flowers delivered to the office that afternoon.
It's a large bunch, beautiful colours, and you can't lie; it absolutely makes you smile. You can tell it's expensive, and you know he's paid extra for the same day delivery, but... he didn't reach for you last night, and you didn't reach for him either, and whenever you think of Joe, that's all that comes to mind.
You'd seen him turn to stone.
So cold and careless.
Had seen in his face how he didn't give a single shit about how inconsiderate he was being.
A bunch of flowers isn't going to magically make that visual go away, but it's nice that he' tried's trying, and you try to hold onto that.
When you leave the office that day, you text Joe that you're headed to your own flat because there's food in your fridge that needs eating before it goes off, and your dishwasher is half filled with dirty dishes that have been in there for about a week already, so you kind of need to go turn it on, and there's probably also a load of laundry you could do, plus a quick pass of your floors with a vacuum, maybe.
Joe doesn't get to read it for a few hours. Busy day on set. When he eventually does, sort of annoyed that you had to wait for his coloured ticks again, he texts back, "Yours?"
And you text back so quickly, it makes his guilt grow.
"don't forget your key, im gonna lie down "
Perfect, Joe thinks. He'll sneak in and maybe get some of your shit sorted whilst you kip on your sofa.
But when he walks in, you're not on the sofa. You're already in bed, and that's sort of heartbreaking, because it's so early, and Joe finds the food that's about to go off uneaten in your fridge still. Finds the dishwasher still half filled, smelling rank, dirty dishes growing mould in there. He also sees the full hamper that needs sorting and washing, and, how had he even had the gall to assume that you could just make time for him at a moment's notice when you hadn't even been able to take care of any of this?
Joe starts the dishwasher.
Sorts your dirty laundry and starts a dark wash.
Cooks the food that's about to go off and places it in plastic tubs to have at another time.
Notices you've not taken the flowers that he had express delivered home and tries not let that affect him, but fails.
You're not sure what it is that wakes you. The beeping of the dishwasher, or the clanging of plates as Joe places the clean ones back into their cupboards. When Joe comes to find you, you're on your side, facing away from the door, but Joe can see you're awake by the light from your phone that silhouettes you.
"You're awake," Joe says, voice surprised, and it makes you turn to look over your shoulder.
"Hey," you say softly, and Joe's eyebrows knit together automatically at how sad you sound.
"Thanks for the flowers," you turn in bed to let Joe kiss you as he bends over to place a small one to your forehead. "They got delivered during my presentation."
"Was it embarrassing?" Joe asks, sitting down next to you, one arm either side of you as he leans over. Kisses you again, but on your mouth this time.
"Very. Vanessa just barged in with them."
"Did you like them?"
"Hmm," you nod and give a little smile. Joe's glad for it, but he feels there's a distance there still. You're keeping your hands to yourself, even though his bare arms are right there.
"I um," Joe starts, and wants to start listing all the things he's done. Wants to tell you how he's been sweet, and kind, like you were with him this morning, and he wants those things to be the silent I love yous he should've given you last night.
But then he changes his mind and says, "Did the, um... did the presentation go okay?"
You nod, because it did go really well, actually. Thank fuck. But Joe doesn't ask any more questions about it, and he seems to hesitate to even speak at all. Seems to want to say something that he's clearly not saying. Afraid to say the wrong thing, maybe. You wonder if there's a sincere I'm sorry hiding in there somewhere.
"You seem tired..." he skirts around the issue, and it's disappointing, but not surprising.
"I am tired."
Then Joe looks at the empty space in your bed for a moment and gets up. Starts undressing. Leaves his clothes in a neat pile on your dresser and goes to brush his teeth.
When Joe looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns.
Fucking idiot.
Look at that coward.
He rests both hands on the sink, hangs into his shoulders, breathes through flared nostrils, and feels like a failure. You must think he is one too.
He didn't reach over last night.
With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he steps back into your bedroom and inhales a deep breath through his nose before he mumbles a barely audible and a very foamy, "I shouldn't have..."
He hears himself, grumbles low in this throat and turns on his heel, spits the toothpaste out and comes back.
Starts again.
"I shouldn't have said those things. Last night. I was being a dick, I shouldn't have done– well, anything, really. I was being mean just to be mean, I'm–"
"Joe," you interrupt, your voice soft.
You didn't reach out either.
"No," Joe argues, moves to sit back down next to you, arms back either side of you, hands pressing into the mattress. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I just," Joe sighs. Frowns. Doesn't know what to say.
What can he say to make you run a hand up one of his forearms?
"I didn't..." he tries once more, but falters again. Drops his head and knows he can't cry because he is not the person he's hurt.
He didn't reach over last night.
"Hey. I didn't either."
You read between the lines, even though your vision goes blurry with tears. You can hear the words Joe isn't saying and can read the thoughts he's not communicating. Joe's face always tells you a million things. You wonder if he's aware how easy he is to read.
You also wonder if he's aware that it's not going to be enough.
Joe swipes a thumb across your temple, close to your eye, and catches a tear that was about to slide into your hair.
He swallows thickly. Tries to swallow down whatever's hurting his throat.
"I don't want to live on the moon..." he then mutters, regretting how he set the world on fire. He wants to live on planet earth, even though it's all grey and black ashes now. He'll plant flowers there. Will feed them water, and will politely ask the sun let them grow.
Will ask you.
You're the sun.
You get to decide.
You don't fully understand what Joe means, because it sounds ridiculous, actors and their theatrics, but you tell him you don't want to live on the moon either and he huffs a laugh at how absurd that sounds coming from your straight face that's pretending it's not actively crying.
You're the sun.
Of course you don't want to live on the moon, silly.
"Your priority–" you start, breath hitching, but Joe is quick to interrupt.
"You. You. Us. I'm... it's us. I promise, it's us..." Joe sighs again, seemingly upset at remembering his own behaviour.
"Saying that is easy, though," you start, finally letting your fingers slowly wrap around one of his arms.
A touch.
It's enough to make Joe's whole face crumble.
He ducks down. Lets his arms find your shoulders to pull you up a little so he can hug you properly, both arms wrapped tightly around your frame, his face hidden into your neck, and you know Joe's only crying because of your fingertips touching his wrist. The smallest things can get him sometimes – so dramatic.
But you continue, "I believe that you believe that your priority is us, but when you're stomping around your kitchen, blaming me for shit I have no controll over, telling me that it's my fault that I–"
"No," Joe mumbles into your skin, and pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours. "No."
And you give his forehead a slight push with yours and you want to say, yes.
Yes that's what you were doing.
Yes that's what happened.
Yes you got caught up in all of your own feelings and forgot that I have a whole set of my own.
But then Joe whispers, "I'm sorry." and you can't help but go absolutely lax in his hold.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I love you, I'm sorry." he whispers his apologies against your mouth through heavy breaths because he's doing his best to not cry, but he's failing, because then he feels you shake with a sob, and, fuck that, he'll banish himself to the moon, actually.
He'll live up there no matter how miserable it is, and he'll take whatever sunlight he can get, and he'll be thankful for the rays you'll allow to even reach him at all.
"You didn't t-touch–" you stutter, and immediately feel Joe squeeze you tighter.
"I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry." Joe whispers right into your ear. Keeps repeating it, over and over and over.
Your one rule.
He should've never broken it.
It's good to hear the words, the I'm sorrys tumbling over his lips, and you'll accept them for now. But actions speak louder than words, and you know that there will probably be a time where the way the world treats Joe will make his head grow to twice its size again. He'll do and say similar shit. Won't want to meet you halfway, but will demand that you make the trek all the way over to him, won't care what the ground will look like, and won't care if you're wearing shoes for it or not.
Joe doesn't know it right now, but you can see into the future and know it will happen again.
And when it does, you'll grow a little colder.
Let some of your rays die out.
"Here. Lay back." Joe says after holding you for a while, and when your head finds your pillow again, Joe curls around and uses every body part of his to touch yours under the covers.
Every inch of skin touching yours is a big fat quiet I love you that he'll repeatedly tell you all night. He's not gonna let go.
He knows he's on the moon still. Up there, all alone. Cold. In the dark.
He said he's sorry, but knows it's not enough.
Wants off, but is smart enough to not set foot somewhere he's not allowed yet.
He has said that he's sorry, and now he needs to wait for the sun.
Wait for you.
And he'll touch you under the covers until you're ready.
Whispers the promises into your hair as you fall asleep.
You get to decide.
He'll let the sun decide.
---
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possiblyreallyme · 2 days
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Once a Beckman girl, always a Beckman girl
warning: very spicey/smutty but no actual penetration, toys (vibrator), size kink if you squint, big dick benn canon.
hello! i got this idea from one of my favorite one piece writer on tumbler, @innerfare!! everyone, go check them out!! thank you so much!!
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"Come on, honey. Don't you wanna come back to my cabin?" Shanks asked drunkenly through his hiccups and wolfish grin, staggering over the countertop to hold onto the wood and wink at you.
You'd giggle, but you shook your head, cleaning the counter when he knocked over a glass of alcohol with his one elbow.
"I'm sorry, sir," You told him with that sweet smile, though you didn't seem very sorry. "I already have plans with your first mate."
Shanks backed off immediately, nodding his head and walking away before you could ask why. Even in his drunken state, he knew it was a complete waste of time to try and woo one of Benn's girls.
Plus, his first mate wasn't one to sleep around, so Shanks knew better than to interfere when he needed a night to relax. He was drunk, not heartless.
"Tough luck," Lucky Roux murmured through his mouthful of meat when Shanks told the table of pirates about the barmaid, not even looking up to console his captain. "No one gets one of Benn's girls."
"Yeah, no shit," The captain murmured with a hiccup, before slouching against the table with a few more, spinning a bottle cap around like a pouty child.
"I just wish we knew what he does to get girls so crazy," Yasopp replied under his breath, though he didn't necessarily care to keep his voice low. Anyone who knew Benn knew he was a charmer, even if he didn't go around flirting as much as his captain.
If only they knew. If only they knew how their Benn could drag his fingers across a lady's skin and make her feel like she was a work of art. How as much as Shanks told him one-night stands and hookups shouldn't last more than 30 minutes, he just can't leave a girl like that.
Was he not supposed to stretch her with his fingers? How was she supposed to fit him if he didn't— while you're at it, doesn't it feel better when you let her ride your face until she's squealing and pulling at your hair? And it would weight much too heavy on his conscious if he left a woman alone in bed when she's tired and sore and in need of some love, when he could put his left-over energy to use and make her a nice meal, maybe give her a massage to ease the ache he caused.
Of course a man like him was so popular with the ladies. He was practically made for women, with how he could memorize your body like the back of his hand, as if he's known you his whole life, but he only just learned your damn name.
He'll coo in that deep voice of his, say things a pirate most certainly shouldn't be saying to someone he'll never see again, with that charming smile on his face and slowly rolling his hips into yours, thumbing at your clit until you've coated the sheets in as much cum as you could give him.
And yet, he's never come across as a player. He isn't a womanizer; he isn't someone like Shanks who can't be trusted to remember his partners names after a week. He's tough as nails and brutal, but to the women whose hearts still throb for the first mate, he was a sweetheart. The type to empathize and sooth when he's just a little too big to fit all the way in your cunt, wiping your tears with kisses and assure you that you've taken more than enough for him to enjoy, so don't feel guilty.
"Benn," You're whining that night, just after you close and the Red Force was snickering when Beckman puts his hand on the small of your back, dwarfing you so intensely you felt your face go hot. You should have fucking guessed that a man with hands bigger than your head had a cock to match.
"Shh, I know, sweetheart. Just relax," He soothed, large fingers parting your labia and pulling up the hood of your clit, circling the little nerve with an ease that made you wonder if he'd done this before with you.
You knew good and damn well you'd remember if a man like this had ever been with you before, but he hadn't even taken his eyes off your face and yet he found your clit almost faster than you could.
You couldn't focus on that though, already fighting off delirium you only thought a cock could bring you, taken by surprise how he could get you so dumb when all he had done was fuck you with that big black vibrator. He kept you sat upright on his desk by letting you lay your head on his shoulder, fluttering kisses against your jaw and rubbing your back when you clenched around the toy and whined for more, soothing you with his whispers like a father soothing his baby in the dead of night.
"Not yet, little one." It had been not yet all damn night, and you were ready for more. Eyes locked on the tent in his pants, large and clearly thick enough to stretch you to your limit, but you couldn't find it in you to care how much it would hurt. He cared though, and thank God for that. He couldn't live with himself if one of his sweethearts got hurt when it was his job to make sure they were well taken care of and happy, even though Shanks tried to explain to him that his job was simply to get off and go.
When he finally pulled the vibrator out and let you slump against hi desk, he kissed along the inside of your thighs and cleaned up the mess dripping to your knees, murmuring enough poetic praise to keep you high on orgasm for longer than your ego appreciated.
"Aw, baby doll," He chuckled faintly against your cunt, a smile stretching across his lips when you squirmed and whined when his stubble brushed along your sensitive thighs. "You still wanna take my cock, don't you?"
"Yes." Your mother would be ashamed at how fast you answered the pirate, who merely chuckled again and lifted you into his arms.
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gguk-n · 3 days
Text
Chapter 4- Love Unveiled
Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)
Series Masterlist
Summary- Y/N decides to give Oscar a chance, to give them a chance and she does not regret that one bit, except for how they got caught or maybe everyone already knew.
Implied smut
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Y/N couldn't sleep. She saw the sunrise but her mind was preoccupied with everything Oscar had said. The past few days, the time they had spent together, the way he made her laugh, how he was the only person ever to coerce her with his puppy eyes. But was it worth it? Was it worth ruining the family friendship and dynamic she had going with his family. They had practically raised her; they would take care of her like their own, it wasn't right to do something like this to them. And even if Oscar's feelings were real, even if she decided to be with him; what if things don't work out one day and they break up. What then? Who was she supposed to go to? She would lose a part of her, why would they take her side when Oscar was theirs? Would her brother take her side or would he get angry for ruining everything? In hind sight, Oscar's a catch; no doubt about that. But she wasn't about to ruin everything for some fleeting moments. That's what she thought and decided to catch Oscar before he left. She sprinted to the guest room to find the door ajar. Oscar had left, when, she didn't hear a thing? Was she so caught up in her thoughts? Maybe this was for the best, maybe not seeing Oscar anymore would fix this.
Y/N decided to avoid Oscar like the plague, she didn't go to his house at all. A part of her did want to but she could wait until he left. That's what those weird feeling were right? The tightness in her chest when she thought about Oscar or the feeling of his hands on her; she craved the familiarity. She didn't like Oscar, surely. Nicole had called her over for dinner a few days before school was supposed to start and since Oscar was around she lied and said that she wasn't feeling well. What she didn't expect was Oscar to show up with hot soup and food. She opened the door to find Oscar stood there with a worried look on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked, "Why are you here?" she asked. "mum said you were sick, so I brought food over" he said holding the packet in his hand. "I..." she was speechless. "You lied" that's when it dawned on Oscar that she had lied so that she wouldn't have to see Oscar. "Do you hate me that much?" his voice cracked as he asked. "No Oscar I don't hate you. I just....it would've been weird" she began but stopped when she saw tears falling from his eyes. Oscar never cried, not in the 18 years she had known him. Even when he fell or scraped himself, he would just dust himself off and get up. It broke her heart knowing she was the reason for his tears.
She raised her hands to wipe away his tears but Oscar flinched. It made her heart break. "Don't. You don't get to wipe my tears" is all he said before he dropped the packet on the floor and left. Even though Y/N called him out, he just left. She picked up the food and walked in. The night was another sleepless night on Y/N's end. Oscar cried a lot, he went to bed early and didn't get out the next morning. Y/N was starting to feel uneasy; maybe she had been too harsh on Oscar. She should've at least rejected him so that the both of them could move on. But a part of her couldn't; that's why she had been avoiding him.
The next day on call with Nicole; "Do you feel better now, darling?" she asked. "The soup was very good, I need the recipe" Y/N said avoiding the question. "I have no clue, Oscar made it for you" she replied. "What?" Y/N asked. "Poor boy was so worried that you were sick, he made the food and said he'd bring it over" Nicole said. There was a lump forming in her throat, she was a horrible person.
After much deliberation, Y/N ended up texting Oscar, "Can we meet at the park near your house? I would totally understand if you didn't come but I'll be waiting for you at around 4" and sent. Oscar saw the text and he wondered if he wanted to see her or not after the events of the night before. He laid in his childhood bed staring at the ceiling for a couple of hours before getting dressed around 4. Even if she hurt him, he still liked her; he couldn't stop suddenly.
He got there quarter past 4 and he saw Y/N playing with some of the kids present there. She must've noticed Oscar staring and turned to him and waved at him. The kid she was playing with moved back to the swings while Oscar walked over to her. "hey" Oscar waved awkwardly standing in front of her. "hi" she waved back, patting the place next to her. Oscar sat down, she was playing with her fingers and tapping her foot rapidly, a nervous habit she had developed as kids and has yet to get rid of. "I'm sorry about the other day" she said not looking at him. Oscar just shrugged when she looked up. "It was wrong of me to lie and worry everyone like that" she remarked. "You worried me the most" Oscar mentioned. "Sorry" she whispered with her head hanging. "Did you think about what I said?" Oscar asked. "Oscar, I don't hate you and what I did yesterday was stupid. You are important to me, not sure in what way. I've had you around for as long as I can remember so you're just you, I guess. I did think about us, you and" she gulped; "I never saw you as anyone but my brother's friend" she said. Oscar felt his heart shatter for god knows which time. It was like he was being tortured. "But" she began while finally looking back at him, noticing tears in his eyes; "I've know you for 18 years and I'd never seen you cry before until yesterday. The two times I see you cry and it's because of me. Makes me feel like shit, honestly. I never saw you as anyone but Oscar, Ansel's friend until the Australian GP. You looked taller, older and I'd be lying if I didn't have thought after some of the moments we shared. It felt like there was something between us." she said, her foot almost thumping the ground. "You'll break the cement" Oscar laughed looking at her foot. "No one makes me nervous like you do Oscar." she stated. "Y/N you make me nervous, for years now." Oscar interjected. "Would it be selfish of me for wanting to be with you?" Y/N asked. Oscar's lips were turning up into a smile, his cheeks were twitching, "No" Oscar breathed. "I would love it if you did" he said. "Obviously you would" she laughed; a noise Oscar could get used to. "What if things don't work out between us? I'll lose you and your family" she pointed out. "That won't happen, and by some shitty luck that does. You won't lose me or us. Ever" he confirmed. "Never?" she asked. "never" he confirmed. "Are you free tomorrow?" Y/N asked this time, more confidently. "Yes" Oscar almost screamed. "I'll pick you up at 8, let's give this a chance" she said.
Oscar wasn't normal about this, at all. He spent the whole day scouring his wardrobe, texting and calling Lando to ask his opinion on outfits. Lando was half asleep when Oscar called but was fully awake when Oscar said, "she asked me out on a date, granted I confessed to her first" Lando had a smile on his face; he helped Oscar pick out an outfit since Y/N asked him to dress fancy. Oscar picked a white shirt, blazer and black slacks. Oscar casually strolled down towards the main entrance, a skip in his step. "Where you going?" his youngest sister asked. "Just out" Oscar said trying to leave before his mum saw him. "Mum, Oscar's going on a date" his sister yelled. His mother appeared from the kitchen, "Sweetheart, Oscar's 22. It's about time he went on a date. Have fun. Don't come home too late and stay safe" his mum told him waving good bye. The last sentence made Oscar's skin crawl. He was greeted by Y/N in his drive-way and hopped right in.
"You look beautiful" Oscar said, staring at Y/N. If this was a cartoon his eyes would've turned into hearts. Y/N was wearing white dress with a blazer on top to fight the cold. The blazer matched Oscar's coincidentally who was also wearing a black blazer. "You don't look half bad" she glancing at him before starting the engine. "I wouldn't have minded picking you up" Oscar pointed out. "Well, the place we're going to is a new restaurant that opened up soon after I moved back and I'd always wanted to try it out with my boyfriend" she stated casually. Oscar's eyes were the size of saucers, "Boyfriend" he stammered. Y/N smiled, "We might get there, who knows." she said. She had always been bad in choosing the type of men she decided to date. Maybe, Oscar confessing to her is what she needed to maybe instead of pursuing some one, let the other person do the pursuing. She wasn't sure how anyone would react to her dating Oscar, but that's a hurdle she'll cross when need be.
When they reached the restaurant, Oscar got out and opened the door for her, held the door at the entrance and even pulled her chair. Y/N was being wooed by the simplest things; truly she'd been dating some shitty men. The food was pretty good and the two of them enjoyed their meal while Y/N did most of the talking. She was talkative person, a complaint she carried forward through out her life; a complaint most of her boyfriends had and a complaint that ended most at a single date. Oscar had known her long enough to know, she talked a lot to fill in the awkwardness she felt. Oscar intently listened to her, a luxury in his eyes since he would be gone most of the year.
After dinner they hit up their favourite ice cream parlour which was almost about to close. Being the last customers there, they quickly grabbed their ice creams and left. Y/N had a bit of a habit of stealing other people's ice creams, having stolen Oscar's quite a lot in their earlier years. She thought he was dumb enough to not notice her taking bites well into their teen years but Oscar knew. He always knew. He just loved it when they got to share an ice cream. She did the same this time, but got caught. "sorry" she apologised, slowly trying to place the ice cream back. "Have it" Oscar said. "What?" she asked. "You've been stealing my ice cream for years. What's stopping you now?" he asked. "You knew" she was shocked. "Kind of hard to miss when you're ice cream's disappearing faster then you're eating it" Oscar commented. "OH" was all she said, now quietly eating her ice cream. "You can have mine as much as you'd like" she said offering her ice cream. Oscar took a spoonful and put it in his mouth. "I could get used to these privileges" Oscar hummed. She just smiled as they walked around.
Y/N dropped Oscar off. "Can I get a kiss?" Oscar asked with a pout. "Piastri, you're pushing your luck, don't you think?" she asked. "Maybe, but I can't let the opportunity go" he chuckled. "take me out on another date and maybe I'll think about it" she said. "Done, when are you free?" he asked. "Aren't you a little too eager?" she laughed. "I'm a man of action" he stated. "I start school in 3 days" she said. "I'll see you the day after. Good night" he said getting out of the car. "Good night Oscar" she said. "Dream about me" he called back shooting flying kisses at her. Y/N had never seen Oscar like this and maybe she could get used to this.
He kept his world and took them to have pasta. The ride there was quite eventful since Oscar almost rammed his car on the side walk as soon as he saw Y/N. "Are you okay?" she asked while getting into the car. "Yeah I'm fine. Don't worry about it" Oscar said. "How can I not?" she questioned giving Oscar a quick once over. He bought her flowers; a combination of every flower at the florist since he couldn't decide. Y/N was wearing the necklace he got her which made him comment about it every chance he got. The dinner was memorable to say the least since Oscar thought the waiter was flirting with Y/N and kept calling her girlfriend whenever he got the chance. "I don't think he believes you" she laughed. "What why not?" Oscar asked. "No one calls their girlfriend, girlfriend" she mentioned. Oscar's lips formed an O and resorted to calling her darling for the whole night.
"Word of advice before you call someone your girlfriend, ask her once" she said. "Sorry." Oscar apologised. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked immediately. "yes" she smiled. "For the record I don't agree to being someone's girlfriend on our second date" she stated. "I'm an exception. We've known each other forever, in my defence" he mentioned. "Yup" she said popping the p. She stopped walked and turned to face him, latching her arms around his shoulder, "You made feel special for the 2 dates we went on. Some of my best dates honestly." She said. Oscar's arms cautiously hovered over her waist. "You can place them on my waist" she said looking at his hands; feeling the warmth as they rest on her waist. "Does your boyfriend get to kiss you?" he whispered inches away from her lips. "maybe" she breathed out. Oscar looked into her eyes for any sort of hesitation before attaching his lips onto hers. Everything fell into place for the both of them; all those shitty relationships that ended in heart break meant nothing to Y/N. And the wait for Oscar was over, the lips he fantasised about for years were on his and he couldn't be happier.
Oscar dropped her back home, "Maybe I should walk you back to the flat" Oscar sited. "Why?" she asked. "We could continue our date, maybe Netflix and chill" he mumbled. "Slow down there tiger" she laughed. "Good night, Osc" she whispered leaving a quick peck on his cheek and opened the door. "My lips are here" he shouted out, making her giggle. She could get used to this, she thought.
The first day back to school was always hectic, Oscar offered to drive her there much to her resistance and even got her snacks for the day; she felt like she was going back as a student and not a teacher. He was back at the end of the day to pick her up. They drove back while Y/N told Oscar all about her day. It had been a while since she had someone to unload from the day's events. Oscar loved hearing her talk and he loved being called Osc occasionally. "I'm leaving the day after" Oscar said in the moment of silence when Y/N was done talking. "You are?" she said, there was a hint of disappointment. But she had known, Oscar wasn't here for long and he wouldn't be here for long ever. "Well, I hope you do well in the rest of the races" she mustered her most cheerful voice. "I don't think I'll be able to see you off" she lamented. "It's okay, you can come to some of the races when you're free" he reasoned. "Yeah, let's see about that" she thought aloud.
Y/N didn't think this would go any further. She expected Oscar to forget about her and then they'd eventually drift apart. Maybe one of the reasons she agreed to give it a try, to see where it went. But she caught herself catching feeling and wanting to talk to Oscar. She did not expect him to call her everyday, that was not very Oscar like. But he did, he would call her at very reasonable times except it would be super late where ever he was. He would ask about her day and then would fall asleep on call. Y/N found herself staring at Oscar as he slept. She would whisper a quick good night and sweet dreams before ending the call.
Everyone as in all of Oscar's family was going to the Singapore GP, Oscar had told her and also asked her to come along since he missed her. She missed him too. So, she was set to fly with the Piastri's to Singapore. Oscar was ecstatic when he saw Y/N but he couldn't jump on her when his family was around. But at the end of the day, he slipped into her room, wrapping his arms around her as he closed the door behind him. "I missed you" he whispered while hugging her tightly. "Babe, I can't breath" she whispered. "Then don't. I'm not letting go" he stated. She rubbed his back for a few seconds before Oscar loosed his grip and Y/N rested her chin on his chest while looking at him. "Didn't know I could miss someone so much" she commented. "Me neither. Lando hates me, though" he said. "What? Why? It didn't look like it" she asked worried. "No I mean, since I miss you so much, he knows about how much I miss you" Oscar clarified. "Lando knows about us?" she asked. "he's the only one" he said. "Oh, okay" she sighed. "Don't you want the others to know?" Oscar asked. "In due time, I just want to enjoy my time with you, for now" Y/N said. Which was true, she didn't want to involve their families just yet, she never told her parents about her past relationships until she felt the guy was worth it, she might've been wrong but it is what it is. The entire weekend, the pair would sneak glances at each other. Lando was having a lot of fun teasing Oscar and now Y/N.
After the race, when everyone suggested going out for dinner, Oscar said, "I'm tired. I'll probably get some sleep" and Y/N also said, "I just don't feel so good" They wished them well and left for the night. The two of them spent time together, for the first time in a while. Oscar ordered room service, they watched some rom-com, they don't remember since Oscar kept stealing kisses from her. Soon enough, those kisses turned into full blown make-out session which ended with the both of them forgetting the movie playing and Oscar on top of Y/N. Their fingers intertwined, Oscar's head was buried in Y/N's neck as they chases their high. After some time, they laid in each others embrace, while Y/N felt Oscar kiss her forehead, "I love you" he said. This was the first time they had said it. When she had asked him out, she had wanted to see where those weird feelings took her. She was very happy that this is where they got her, she was happy for the first time in a really long time. She felt loved and maybe dating your brother's best friend wasn't such a bad idea after all, she thought while saying, "I love you too"
The next morning, they were almost caught when Oscar's sister knocked on Oscar's door to join them for breakfast. Some how Oscar was able to ward her off and the two quickly got dressed and left their rooms. The breakfast was uneventful except Oscar being a lot more touchy feely, Y/N wasn't complaining it's just that it made focusing on what Chris or Nicole had to say extremely difficult.
Y/N had a Japan trip planned, or so she said and it fell exactly during the GP weekend. That's how Y/N and Oscar ended up exploring Japan a few days before the race and just enjoying the beautiful scenery and absorbing the culture after the race. They tried all those couple costumes and even went to amusement parks. The more time they spent together, the more they got greedy to have each other around. Y/N almost cried when she had to fly back. Oscar promised to be back as soon as the season was over.
And he did come back as soon as the last race was over and everyone was able to head home to rest and recuperate. Oscar reached home; he did not expect to find Y/N at his place, so without a second thought he dropped his bag and ran to her. He kissed her with so much need, his hands roamed her body and were under shirt while Y/N did try to get his attention but she lost her train of thought after she felt his body pressed against hers. "Please do not undress the poor girl in my living room" Nicole called out. Oscar almost jumped away from her. "I know you probably miss each other but keep it to the bedroom. I do not want to see what you two get up to" Nicole stated walking in followed by his whole family and Y/N's family. "That's what I was trying to tell you, that everyone's on their way home" Y/N whispered. Oscar took her hand in his, "I'm dating Y/N" he stated confidently. "We know" they called back. "Did you tell them?" Oscar asked, looking at her. Y/N shook her head confused.
Ansel told Oscar after dinner, "You know your parents lost 100$ because of you" Oscar was even more confused then before. "They had a bet going, my parents said that you two would end up dating, your parents said that you would pine your whole life away" Ansel elaborated. "My own parents have no trust in me" he lamented. "In their defence, you've had the biggest crush on her since like when we were in 5th or 6th grade" Ansel said. "You knew" Oscar asked. "I know you too well. It was getting painful watching you" Ansel laughed. "My parents couldn't be happier at the thought of having you as their son-in-law" Ansel said. "They think we'll get married." Oscar asked shocked. "At this point, they'll get you both married. Mum says she hasn't seen Y/N this happy in any relationship" Ansel explained. "Also the two of you are not stealthy at all. Nicole saw you leave with my sister multiple time, same goes for my mum. Also your sister caught you too getting too comfortable under the table in Singapore too, the poor girl. I almost puked when I heard that" Ansel gagged.
Oscar walked into the kitchen to find Y/N alone. "They knew, from the start" he said. "It seems" she smiled at him. "We're bad actors" she laughed. "Now I can touch you whenever I want" Oscar stated. "Please do not try to get me naked any where but our rooms, I don't think I can take the are we gonna be grandmas soon questions anymore" she said shaking her head. She pecked his lips, "I love you" she said. "I love you more" Oscar declared. "Honestly, didn't know I could love someone like I love you" she commented, pressing a kiss on his neck, "I might be staying over" she said in a sing songy tone walking away. "Really?" he asked. She nodded linking her hands with his.
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Superbloom - Part 3
tws: abuse, domestic violence, self harm and suicidal ideations
pairing: cc!satosugu x reader
part 2
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Gojo stays up impossibly late. When he's home, you try your best to keep him company, but often end up nodding off on the couch, or the floor. One time you even fell asleep with your head down on the dining room table beside your late night bowl of cereal, spoon still in hand. You couldn't remember it, but Gojo found it greatly amusing.
You always woke up in your bed though.
Did he touch you when he carried you there? Or did he scoop you up with the infinite barrier between himself and the rest of the world? Did he brush your hair away from your face, rest his cheek against your forehead as he cradled you?
You couldn't imagine he did. Sensory input seemed to be a sort of hurdle for him.
He liked taste. Particularly sugar, but oftentimes he could also be lured away from responsibility by way of food trucks and pop up shops with menus that may as well be eligible to him. Different combinations of taste and texture seemed to fascinate him. There was something very human in those moments; the tilt of his head and the slow maneuvering of his jaw. It seemed it was only in those fleeting moments he could entirely lose himself in the sensation of something new.
Sight was a curse, quite literally. You’d learned the blindfold was more than just a comfort, more than just a mask. Occasionally he'd come home from missions and fall face first into the couch swearing he’s fine, but you knew better. There was a tension in his shoulders that only seemed to ease when all the lights were off and the only sound was your colliding breathing. You’d sit on the floor in front of him and worry, so loud you'd think he could probably hear it until his breathing slowed. You couldn't carry Gojo to bed if you tried, but you'd retrieve his blanket from his room and pull it up over his sleeping form only to watch it hover a few inches above his slumbering frame. You wondered if it was still warm.
And touch?
You wouldn't know. You aren't sure he would either.
He treated infinity like a party trick, throwing up invisible walls for you to walk into for a quick laugh, or blocking your chopsticks from reaching your lips– he especially loved it when you got irritated enough to throw something at him.
Little reminders of how untouchable he truly was.
It was lonely.
You hadn't gone so long without being touched in years. At first you missed the obvious: the kisses, the cuddles, the sex– but you knew you were truly broken when Gojo had come home fuming after a meeting with the higher ups and you got excited over the idea that he might lose it enough to hit you.
He didn't. He wouldn't.
Instead he stormed past you, his infinity bumping you roughly out of the way and made a b-line for his room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle the walls.
The loneliness only grows.
Day fades to evening fades to night. You fill the time with instant ramen and doom scrolling through social media.
You know you shouldn't check, but you can't stop yourself from pulling up Suguru's instagram.
He loved pictures. You'd always had the feeling that he was a little vain, but he would swear it was all about the image.
He didn't post often, but when he did the comments we're always flooded with new age spirituality bullshit. Praising him and his “healing”, stroking his ego about his “divine masculine” energy. You had half a mind to tell these people that man had a better skincare routine than you did, but decide against it.
Something catches your eye.
His most recent post was liked by Manami.
You knew better than to open her profile, because seeing her name alone makes your stomach churn and your blood boil. It almost feels good-
“Y/n?”
Gojo's voice snaps you out of your trance and you drop your phone with a clatter against the table. If he's curious, he doesn't say so. It seems like there are other things on his mind.
“Pack your bags.”
The words cut through you like a hot knife, nausea welling up in your gut.
What was wrong with you that this kept happening? And even more importantly, where would you run to if not to Gojo? You’d lost all connections when you decided to follow Suguru in his defection, and not even a coffee shop would be impressed by “highschool dropout” written in the fine print of your resume.
Still, what was there to do?
“Okay.” It comes out muted, shakey.
“We’ll be there for an entire week, and it's gonna be cold, so choose your outfits accordingly.”
Oh.
Relief floods you. You take a breath you didn't know you'd been denying yourself.
Planes are nice, but nowhere near being better than rides on Suguru’s curses. Still, you lean against the window, watching the expansive sea trail out for miles below you, wondering how it’d feel to drop right there in the middle. One would assume it’d be peaceful, but you knew better. People said water burned when it entered your lungs.
Still, there must be something interesting down there. Perhaps a sunken ship, or plane– just like the one you were on now. Or maybe something less human, something darker.
You’d never find out under the watchful eye of Gojo, who by all means looked relaxed. His long legs were stretching obnoxiously into your space, his fingers interlocked behind his head, tipped back like he hadn’t a care in the world, and yet you knew that something was eating at him. Whatever this mission was, it had him pissed, though he wouldn’t divulge exactly what had him so riled. It came through in subtle bursts- flares of his nostrils, clenches of his fists, impatient legs jiggling and jostling your seat with every move.
“Gojo.” You scold, moving to rest your hand against his ever bouncing knee but being stopped just a few inches short.
A grin cracks across his face like lighting; violent and bright.
“Yes?”.
He jiggles his leg harder. If it were anyone else, you’d punch them, but this was Gojo. Not only did you have a particular sort of patience for his class clown behavior, but you also couldn’t– the fact that he paid your rent being just as big of a placater as the physical inability to do so.
So you choose a different route.
“Are you nervous or something? Awfully jittery over there.” Your tone lets him know it’s an accusation, not a question.
He freezes, and then sneers “Please. I don’t get nervous.”.
He stays still for the rest of the ride.
Gojo had warned you it would be cold, and you should’ve known he meant you’d be staying in a glorified desert of ice and snow. Another thing about him that hadn’t changed; overstating the inconsequential and understating the important. Not that you had access to clothing of that caliber anyway. You hadn’t left the temple unless tucked under Geto’s arm in all your years away, there was no need for anything other than the uber-casual. Sweatpants, jeans, leggings and t-shirts. You had traditional wear as well, but you’d left it in your room back at the temple. There was no way you were ever donning that again.
The early morning light is played like a game of tennis across the expansive white of the snow-laden rooftops and sidewalks and Gojo’s luminescent features. Both are too light to be accepting of any new particles of light, rejecting the sun's warmth with a beautiful type of determination.
“Fuck.”
The word spat through Gojo’s colgate teeth to some would detract from the beauty, but you’d been taught the debauchery and violence went well with beauty, so it only felt natural.
He shocks you by yanking the blindfold off of his face, scrunching his face up against the blinding light, his features almost wound as tight as his thick knuckles gripping the steering wheel of the rental car. The cold chill that seeps into you isn’t coming from outside, but from somewhere deep in your core.
His eyes had always been beautiful, would’ve been enough to jostle you with a fair warning all those years ago, but with the blindfold removed it was even easier to see just how much he’d grown since then. His features were developed, sharp and smooth all at the same time, with sparse boyish details painted into his aura. Fluttering lashes, long and stark white, soft cheeks and round eyes that– stunned you. You could almost see a faint glow emitting from his pupils, a myriad of memories and lessons and raw power emanating from his gaze. They were horrifying.
They were beautiful.
He flops his blindfold in your lap and motions to his bag in the backseat.
“My glasses are in the front pocket, be a peach and grab them for me?”.
When you turn around to fulfill his request you see exactly what he was perturbed by. A white cop car with ghost detailing on the sides.
“Awwwh, Gojo’s scared of pigs!” You coo as you fish around in the front zipper of his suitcase, smiling to yourself when he laughs. It sounds like caramel tastes; the kind of sweetness that would only come from burning something just right.
He was fun to tease, sometimes.
“Don’t feel like having to make pork chops because they pull me over for driving with my vision obscured.”
Gojo leaves you at the rental cabin with a strict set of rules. You’re not to leave under any circumstances. Stay indoors and away from windows, and when nightfall comes, all lights are to be turned off and left that way. If anyone approaches, you are to act like you’re not there.
You asked him why.
He said you were weak.
It didn’t take you long to discover there was no service this far out in the sticks. You busy yourself as best you can, wandering around the far too large estate and yanking open cabinets and doors like you might find something spectacular (or horrifying) awaiting you.
The best it had to offer was a mostly empty bottle of cleaner under the bathroom sink and a brown recluse in an empty closet. You tell him (her?) hello but she doesn’t respond, so you decide it best to leave him to his biddings. He was here first, after all.
It’s when the sun sets that you really start to lose it.
You’d never been afraid of the dark before, so why now did it feel like it was suffocating you?
The walls seemed to be closing in, tighter and tighter until you felt as if you were pushing on the edges of your own coffin, buried six feet beneath the damp earth. Maggots gnawed at your flesh, rainwater seeped in through the cracks and somewhere you hear Suguru yelling your name. He sounds displeased.
You fumble in the darkness until your hands find a wall and you trace it, blindly feeling for anything that might give you a sense of direction in the unfamiliar environment. The disorientation is blinding, the heat from your hammering pulse making the air burn with every intake.
Suguru would be disgusted, to see you flailing and fumbling in the dark all because you were simply left alone with your own thoughts for too long.
Weak.
You hand finds cool metal and you recognize the familiar sensation of a knob against your palm, turning and throwing the door open without a second thought.
It's no brighter, but the freezing night air shocks your nervous system, hitting you like a brick to the throat– like the hand of a lover.
You take a shuddering gasp, and then two, and then three, until you finally feel some sense of sanity again.
Your eyes adjust to the moonlight, and you can make out the white fields that seem to stretch on for as far as the eye can see. The snow quiets the sounds of nature, quiets the kick drum in your chest.
Your back slowly presses against the cool wall of the house behind you, exhaustion wracking your frame as you come down from your panic. It's real, you tell yourself, it's all real. The wind nipping at your skin, slicing through the thin fabric of your clothing. The shards of razor sharp snow and ice caught in said wind that feels like they’re stabbing through your body. It all hurts. It makes you homesick.
You can't say for sure when you end up on the freezing surface of the covered porch on your side, curled into yourself, but you stay there, relishing in the feeling of the cold burn, thinking that if you close your eyes the frost bite on your jawline kind of feels like Suguru's teeth. Sharp.
Sleep overtakes you, eventually.
You dream of nothing.
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fairyrcts · 1 day
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dreams, fairytails, fantasies , n.d.
by fairyrcts contents - intended lowercase , 3rd person , use of y/n , unprotected sex (not recommended) , cursing , praising , semi-public sex , male masturbation , virginity loss (not mentioned) , mommy kink , overstimulation, breeding
(an - ik y'all said you wanted chris fic first but i was too eager to write the nate one)
y/n walked up and down the rows of seats as she tidied up after the hockey game.
her father was the coach, so she always stayed later after the games to pick up anything left behind and help her dad with whatever he needed.
she'd bent down to pick up a foam glove that was left. her light blue mini skirt rode up her thighs as she reached down.
nathan, who was taking off his gear in the bench area, had thought everyone including y/n had left.
he'd always see her with her dad during the pre-game pep talks, sometimes she'd sit and watch them at practice, or just cleaning up after everything had been finished.
although the only thing he knew about the girl was her name and father's name, he had the biggest crush on her.
he'd glance over at her in her skirts and lacy tops or tight, soft colored dressed that made him want a taste of every curve on her body. her innocence and naivety made him want him for himself even more.
unknown to him, y/n had a slight thing for him too.
when he'd take off his helmet and his hair would stick to his forehead as he panted. or when he'd take his jersey off after playing and he'd be left in his white tanktop, his mucles shining due to the sweat.
she'd direct her gaze towards him every time she'd watch the team play or practice. seeing him get sweaty and angered out on the ice had to be one of the most attractive things ever.
nathan stood up with his skates and pads in his hands. he walked out of the closed in area and into where the seats were. he glanced around for a sec before his eye's landed on y/n.
she was bent over, picking up things from the floor. her skirt was way up and her pink lacy panties caught his attention.
he was in a state of shock for a moment as he stared at the unaware girl in front of him.
he walked closer, deciding to speak to her.
"hey, y/n. i didn't know you were still here. your dad here still?" nathan spoke in breathy tone, causing y/n to whip around.
"hm? oh, yeah. no, he left a little bit ago but there was still stuff to be cleaned up. you did really good by the way. my dad says you're pretty talented." she gave him a toothy smile as she talked to the brunette.
nathan's grin became wider as those words came out her mouth. "thank you, really."
"yeah, anytime. well, i'll be here for a bit longer, so if you need anything just let me know." she was a very generous person.
generous enough to help with the ache in his pants? no, no, he shouldn't be thinking that stuff.
"will do. nice seeing you." he reciprocated her smile and made his way toward the locker room.
nate immediately yanked his clothes off, tughing his pants off as quick as possible.
he sat on the bench in the locker room as he pulled his boxers down to his ankles. his tip leaked pre-cum, it dripping down his length.
he balled his hand into a fist and began stroking himself. he was so sensitive just his own touch caused him to moan out loudly.
he let a line of drool leave his mouth and onto his dick. "mm, fff-uck, y/n. i- holy shit, keep goin'."
he imagined y/n's mouth on his cock, her throat stuffed and her lips puffy from his length.
y/n finished cleaning the bleachers and made her way towards the garbage can that sat beside the entry to the mens locker room.
she threw away all the trach she'd collected and was getting-ready to leave til' she heard her name being called.
"mm, y/n. jjust like that, yes ma'am."
she tightened her thighs together to keep her mind away from the wetness in between them.
she cracked the door open slightly, nate's head turning the second he heard the creak of the hinges.
"i- i'm sorry, i didn't know you were in here. sorry." her words were rushed as she shut her eyes abruptly.
nathan panicked to get his boxers back on. "no, shit. no, uh, youre good."
"uh, were you calling me?" she asked, her voice unintentionally innocent as she opened her eyes slightly. her eyes went wide at the sight of his dick, fully visible from his boxers, a small wet stain were his tip sat.
"uh, nope. wasn"t callin' ya. must've been like, uh. i dunno." nate's eyes looked everywhere but her as if trying to take away the attention.
y/n let out a soft giggle at the sight of him awkwardly trying to end the damn conversation. "i mean, it's alright. you're not very quiet. do you, uh.. need some help?"
her tone sent aches through his body, his cock pulsing through his underwear. "i-i, i'm sorry? say what now?!"
she chuckled once more at his stuttering voice. "c'mon, just sit back. let me show you."
nate thought he was living one of his own fantasties as he wobbled back onto the bench beneath him.
y/n undid the bow in the back of her shirt and pulled down the skirt she wore with it. she was left in her bra and panties, which she took off slow and seductively.
she now stood naked in front of the brunette boy. nathan's eyes just stared at her as he was frozen and stiff. if you squint, you could see his dick get even harder under his boxers by the second.
she scooted closer to him. "wanna take it off for me?" her voice was low as she played with the waistband of his underwear.
"i-yup." his obedience was so attractive. she knew he'd listen well.
he quickly yanked them off before sitting back on the warm bench.
y/n straddled him, his dick not in her cunt quite just yet. she began sucking on his neck to get him just a bit more excited before finally letting her hips move down onto his soaked cock.
the sound of her dripping pussy and his absolutely messy cock made nate's mind fuzzy.
he let out a loud, guttural moan at the new feeling. "holy fuck, mommy- fuck! i-"
he couldn't even form a coherent sentence just one pump in.
"just relax. i've got you." her words were hushed as she whispered into his ear.
she slowly moved her body up and down his length, going all the way off and back on him each time.
the feeling of her tight cunt on his absolutely aching dick was already too much for him.
"mo-mmy, no, please keep goin'."
y/n couldn't say no to her handsome boy. happily, she obligiged, bouncing herself up and down on his dick.
after only a few minutes, nate was so close. "fffuck, i c-can't no more. pleasepleaseplease."
"nuh uh, you can keep going, be a good boy for mommy , hmm?"
her voice sent him over the edge. he just couldn't anymore. he needed to release and make a mess inside of her.
"pleaseee, i need to. i-i've been good!"
he had behaved and listened fine the whole time. she debated wether or not to let him or have more of her own fun.
she ultimately chose to let him for his benefit. she'd enjoyed teasing the boy enough.
"mhm, go ahead." and almost instantly, he came all inside her. the moan he let out was louder than before as he let his juices release in the girl's pussy.
"goody boy." she whispered softly in his ear before she stood up, nate wincing lightly.
"b-but, i didn't get to make you feel good."
"some other time, baby."
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primeofprimes115 · 1 day
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A "Marvel"ous Discovery - Mary Marvel/Shazam x Male Reader
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Contains: Fluff 🥰
A/N: Something different for a change, about time I did a different character other than my girl, Kara. Now shall we??
SHAZAM!!! ⚡
Attending Fawcett Community College in Fawcett City was something of an experience for Y/N, he himself obviously didn't attend this College on his own, he moved into a dorm who was someone he had met back years ago, reunited at last when he wasn't expecting it.
Her name was Mary Bromfield, who was adopted at a young age before the both met in school, starting a friendship that sparked for a while until he had to unfortunately move out of Fawcett City, due to his father's business trips, cutting off contact with Mary but she'd always remember him...
And so did he.
The reunion was... Emotional, almost nerve-wracking at first since Y/N had known he'd be Mary's roommate, she was informed of having a roommate but the details were scarce, she had no clue until he stepped through the door to meet her, there was a moment of shock, then questions, then tears falling down her eyes before she walked over and gave him the biggest hug she could give him, if she was showing her 'secret' to him, she'd be floating off the ground with him in her arms.
"Y-Y/N?" her heart dropped like a rock hitting the pavement upon him turning around. Her eyes struck wide, looking at the boy in shock as he dropped his bags and hanged up his coat on the coat rack on the door of their shared dorm. "Y-You're..."
The young man turned around to face the girl he grew to love, at least in secret, or he did have a thing for her or two back then, never even saying one word about it. He looked at her with an inviting look in his eyes, and with an all familiar smile, one that she missed seeing.
"Hey, Mary. Been a while?" he quipped, talking a little step forward as Mary stood still, unsure of what to even say or do next upon seeing her lost friend's presence, standing in front of the dorm she was to share with the unknown assailant.
She planned out ways to keep her secret away from whoever it was going to be sharing the dorm with her, figuring out different excuses to use if necessary. Her secret was that she was and is Mary Marvel, the renowned Superhero that worked alongside the main Shazam for a time along with other Shazams that this main Shazam shared his power with, before they disappeared one day. It was revealed they lost their powers and superhero form due to losing a connection to what was called 'The Rock of Eternity'.
However... Some time later... Mary as a new adult, gained her abilities back and became the New Champion of Shazam, though many call her "Shazam" now, she was and always has been Mary Marvel, eventually leading down to her reclaiming the title of Mary Marvel again later down the line.
Things did get complicated now that she was attending College now, she used to go to a College down in New York, away from her family, but recent issues surfaced that forced her to move back near her family's home, attending Fawcett Community College to continue her studies in Science, mostly Biology and Medical Science, she already knew most about it and vowed to get a job with it. A proper job without being Mary Marvel all the time.
And the last thing she didn't expect, was finding out her new roommate, is an old friend she hasn't seen in many years, even before getting her full powers of Shazam.
Mary began to walk forward, her vision got a little blurry due to the tears forming up in her eyes and wrapped her arms around Y/N, giving him a big, strong hug which made him chuckle. In response, Y/N wrapped his arms around her as Mary quietly sobbed in joy, overjoyed to see Y/N again. She didn't feel like letting go.
Y/N remembered the Mary he knew all those years ago, the innocent, sensible and cute brunette girl, and here she was... And still is the same girl he had to leave his friendship behind with all those years ago.
The two eventually would catch up with all things that has happened in their lives since they last seen each other, Mary had to keep most subtle details out of being Mary Marvel/Shazam mostly, wanting to keep him out of that business so he didn't get hurt by her family's enemies, or anyone bad for that matter.
Low and behold, the whole reason why Y/N had arrived to study at Fawcett Community College was to study under Science, Biology also which sounded like music to Mary's ears, bringing the both closer to each other again.
Mary recounted all the times she had spent with him when they were younger, how she viewed him as this sweet, out-going boy who wanted to be her friend one day, she had barely any from what she recounted, only her adopted siblings she had much communication with.
He was always by her side, even at lunch, most boys would poke fun at him for hanging out with a girl, until Mary had, in her way' heard enough of Y/N being picked on one day and decided to take matters into her own hands.
In a way, it was a cute gesture, a sweet one at best.
With more revealed coming from Mary, Y/N had told her he took self-defense classes, under his father's guidance, his father's "business trips" weren't exactly normal, he worked under the United States Government and at the time, his family was in danger, the only suitable option was to move his family to a safer location, which Y/N had no choice in.
All the time for catching up came to be and the pair became friends again... Or so they thought.
Y/N's feelings for Mary soon came back up after two weeks, from all the times they spent with each other at the end of studying together, going out for lunch and all the teasing he did on her, he couldn't help but begin to catch feelings for the brunette girl again.
Even though she sometimes and oddly disappeared whenever something she was informed about was happening, or when danger was being reported, she'd later come back, finding Y/N all safe and sound, though one time... He was caught in the midst of danger - searching for Mary before a red blur transported him to safety from a villain tearing through the city, who had a grudge to settle with Mary Marvel herself.
He had heard about the Heroine before plenty of times, but never got to see her up close much, the only time he did was at that moment of the blur saving him, which was Mary Marvel herself, telling him to get to safety quickly, though her voice did sound very and oddly familiar, he listened and did as told.
Of course that day, he was going to confess his feelings for her and ask her out, though they've been getting lunch together and are living in the same dorm together, he really liked her and wondered if she felt the same way...
"In truth... Yeah. I did like you for a time" Mary gave him a genuine smile, shifting her hand over to his and planted it in his palm, feeling his warm hand close up against hers. She looked away for a moment as Y/N's heart paced rapidly. "And... I still do, I still have... Butterflies in my stomach every time I think about you" she admitted with her cheeks flushing warmly, her gaze coming back to him.
She still likes him to this day, she often hanged around in space, out of Earth's orbit or on Earth's Moon, trying to configure a way to even tell how much she had feelings for him, it felt like a weight coming off from her as soon as Y/N told her how much she meant to him. However... The other weight on her shoulder was her secret of being Mary Marvel, which is an even more nerve-wracking explanation to tell him.
Y/N's heart swelled in that moment, a part of him wanted to jump up and celebrate but that would be a little too vague, he was shocked to say at least, he'd thought it wouldn't end well and she'd be mad at him, but Mary has never gotten mad at him once.
Sure, she did tell him off for running into danger to 'search for her', though she was lying to him at the time of being safe at that part then, being Mary Marvel and all, she never raised her voice or yelled at him angrily. She was a pure and innocent person at heart.
The same could be said for Y/N, who's just defensive over her, especially around guys his and her age looking her up, though she could defend herself quite fairly which was a surprise to him to say at least.
"That's... That's great!" Y/N said, overjoyed. The two sharing a big hug afterwards on the couch...
Days turned into weeks after the confession, the two currently were holding hands, walking down the street. The pair haven't kissed yet but there has been some pecks on the cheek and on the hands. The both agreed to take it slow first to see how it goes.
And it was going well, very well in their experience.
Mary always had bad luck when dating guys, as she was inexperienced much, so was Y/N but the pair were happy nonetheless. They had to keep their slowly building romantic relationship under the rug in College, in case anyone would find out, as it was Mary's obligation to suggesting that idea, and Y/N agreed.
However... Mary Marvel was needed mostly than rather not very much, now that she was apart of this 'New Justice League' that's been set up and put together by Supergirl, the Woman of Tomorrow, who was a mutual ally and friend towards Mary. Which meant she had to skip dates unfortunately.
It was only a matter of time until Y/N was going to eventually discover that Mary Bromfield is in-fact Mary Marvel/Lady Shazam, the Marvelous Innocent Superhero, and it worried Mary.
But fortunately, today was a day for Mary to relax and not go out as Mary Marvel as often as she had to be, as much as she finds it enjoyable to fly around and keep the world safe.
She had rather a goofy, innocent smile plastered on her as she walked hand in hand with her boyfriend, who in turn looked back at her while she thought back on what had been going on in her personal superhero and normal life, while in the midst of walking back to their shared dorm.
"What's got you giggling?" Y/N's voice brought her back to reality, she looked at him and softly laughed to herself for a moment.
"Oh, sorry! I was just thinking on some things" she brushed aside happily, sparking Y/N's curiosity.
"And what may they be, mi-lady?" he cocked his eyebrow up with curiosity, smirking in her direction as the brunette giggled with her cheeks slightly flushing.
"Oh... Just back when I defended you from those rude boys back in Elementary" she replied softly, clutching his hand tightly and warmly before colliding her shoulder into him gently.
"Oh yeah, I remember that" he thought back on it with her, softly laughing at himself about it next. "For an innocent girl, you sure know your way with words back then".
"And I still do" she sent a wink in his direction.
"And it's cute, honest" he smiled in her way. "Have I ever said it's adorable when you come up with words instead of swearing?" he brought to her attention.
"Well..." she shrugged innocently before giggling and pecking his cheek.
The pair continued walking down the streets of Fawcett City, eventually stopping near an alleyway which Y/N thought of taking the shortcut.
Much to Mary's suspicion of seeing it completely empty, as any other alleyway would be but she had a feeling it was reeking of suspicion.
"Here, we can take a shortcut through here" he suggested.
"Uh, Y/N, are you sure?" Mary asked with a worried tone, looking down the same alleyway.
"Yeah, it's a shortcut".
"I'm not really sure, it looks... Ominous" she showed her suspicions toward the idea but Y/N rolled his eyes nonetheless.
"I've been using this route all the time, it'll be fine! Trust" he replied softly, holding her hand still.
"Okay..." she sighed after a few seconds of careful thinking, knowing if things didn't go well through this... 'shortcut', she'd have to reveal her secret as Mary Marvel at least.
And so... The pair walked in through the alleyway... All was going well...
Until someone stepped out from the corner, as another followed behind the pair.
"Ah shit" Y/N mumbled to himself. "Maybe I should've listened to you" he said towards Mary.
"What we got here? Two stranglers walkin' in our turf, huh?" one thug talked with a New York accent.
"Mary... When I say run, you run" he whispered to her.
"What?!" she whispered back to him, completely took aback by his suggestion.
"Just do it, okay? I can take these guys on".
"When they have guns and shoot at you?" she pointed out with her observation, the two thugs had sidearms on them, one aiming toward them and the other, his hand reaching the inside of his jacket where his concealed firearm was.
"Shit" he whispered again.
"So, pretty girl. Give us the purse, see what ya got" the thug who originally spoke walked forward, closer to them while backing the young couple in the corner.
"If you want to get to her, you'll have to get through me!" Y/N bravely defended her, opting to shield her like a real gentleman, as the thugs laughed at his eagerness to defend his girl.
"We got guns, pointed at you, you ain't some superpowered being".
"Ha!" Mary scoffed loudly. "Ironic" she then said with a sarcastic tone, while the boys looked at her in confusion.
"Enough talk, lady! Now give us-"
"I am a superpowered being" Mary then said loudly to them and to her boyfriend.
The thugs laughed at her, thinking her delusional, an idiot even, much to Y/N's displeasure of hearing them insult her.
"No seriously, let me show you" she was dead serious, walking past her boyfriend and out in front of all of them.
"Mary, what are you...!" Y/N immediately stopped himself from talking, originally he was going to plead her to not do something stupid like he was about to do, which was getting herself killed.
But the moment he saw a glint in her eye, like an electric beam phasing across her beautiful chocolate brown eyes... He saw it.
He saw what she meant and his eyes widened...
"You're -".
"SHAZAM!!!" with a shout out to the sky, and the magic word, a bolt of yellow lightning came crashing down onto Mary's body, blinding the thugs and Y/N for a brief moment with smoke covering where she was...
And when the smoke cleared...
Mary was wearing something different, clad in a white and gold outlined cape, connected to a clasp that was just over her left corner of where the lightning bold was on her chest, dressed in a red long-sleeved top and skirt with a gold outline on the basis of her skirt and red shorts underneath. A gold belt over her skirt and gold braces over her arms. And to top it off... Gold boots.
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She transformed into Mary Marvel!
"Alright boys, times up" Mary quipped while striking a superhero pose, before she zoomed her way up to the thug on Y/N's right and punched him once, sending him flying onto a dumpster down the alleyway as his friend watched in horror.
The thug couldn't even believe it... The boy he was about to rob was hanging out with Mary Marvel?! It seemed he didn't even know it was her.
"Oh, that's gonna hurt for an entire week" Y/N felt a little bad for the thug his now superhero girlfriend knocked across the alleyway, tumbling down from the closed dumpster and onto the concrete floor, groaning in pain.
Then, Mary zoomed near to the thug who was about to fire at her boyfriend, using herself to shield Y/N from getting shot with the bullets bouncing off her as she stood heroically.
"Did anyone tell you, no guns in my city?" she scolded the thug, zoomed up to him in a whoosh, her cape billowing behind her like her dashing hair, flicking away the last remaining thug into a nearby wall with her finger, knocking them out.
"That. Was... Amazing!" Y/N praised her girlfriend's efforts as she turned around with an all-around, guilty look on her face while she began walking up to him. "You look... Marvelous" he laughed at his own joke, making her smile and cringe a little.
"That was... Bad, but in a good way" she replied, before sweeping him off his feet and into her arms, before the wind began to get a little stronger.
It was then he noticed Mary was taking flight up into the air, while carrying him, her hair, skirt and cape billowing in the wind as she began to fly in the sky, above the city foremost with a look like she had been caught trying to open the cookie jar when she wasn't supposed to.
She failed to notice how optimistic her boyfriend looked currently, he had just witnessed his girlfriend turn into the superhero, Mary Marvel, confirming his little suspicion, and watched her embarrass the thugs that tried to rob the both of them on their weekend date.
"I... I know you probably have a lot of questions" she broke her oath of silence, Y/N seemed lost in thought of being carried by her, she noticed him blushing about it. "And... Whatever questions you have, I can explain... I'm so sorry-".
"Sorry for what? Being a superhero this WHOLE TIME?!!" he said with excitement in his voice, something Mary didn't think how he'd react. "This is mind-blowing! I never thought our relationship would be more magical, but this?" he chuckled very happily, gloating over the fact he was really close to a superhero this whole time. "It's... It's spectacular. I've never felt more safer until now".
Mary couldn't help but smile but a sense of dread came over her, she'd lied to him, when she promised she would never, NEVER EVER, lie to him, she was always genuine with him.
"The thing is Y/N - I lied to you" her smile faded, replaced with a saddened expression, much to Y/N's displeasure of seeing her unhappy. "I lied to protect you, when lying can put strain on relationships, I promised I wouldn't lie but... But this-".
"Mary" he placed a hand on her cheek, while his other arm was still wrapped around her neck, her wavy hair in the wind tickled his arm which he liked. "It's okay that you had to keep this from me" he eyed down the part of the lightning bolt on her outfit, which glowed in the shadow of him as she carried him and soared through the air. "I understand the rules of being a superhero, I mean... My mother was one back then".
"R-Really?" she asked with a surprised look.
"Yeah, she was a vigilante back in the 90s, but enough about that" he brushed it to the side for a moment. "I know you had to keep this away from me because you wanted to keep me safe, and that's okay" he rubbed his thumb on her cheek as the white caped brunette superhero with the full powers of Shazam began to smile. "And I gotta say... Dating a superhero is something I didn't expect until I began to suspect of you being a superhero, I know it was a wild thing to think, but when you kept disappearing, Mary Marvel - - you - - would show up to save the day, and I still remember you saving me a month and a half ago as well, I had a feeling that was your voice I heard, nice trying to cover it up by the way" he smirked near the end as Mary rolled her eyes with a groan.
"I thought it worked! Should've known you'd figure it out sooner than later" she grumbled before giggling away. "But of course, you know me very well".
"That I do" he smiled before looking out to the view as Mary Marvel soared through the air. "So this is what flying is like? The view is beautiful" his eyes lit up with pure joy, feeling the breeze hit his face as he was being flown by his girlfriend still.
"I know, I've always wanted to show you this" she exclaimed, Y/N looked back at her and smiled.
"I'm happy you are now" he said, the sky-blue sky around them as he smiled deeply at her with him closing his face in toward hers.
Mary's eyes saw what he was doing, she stopped herself from flying for just a moment to share the view with Y/N like she was originally going to do and met him halfway, closing the gap.
A spark of joy erupted between the two as their lips touched, strong senses of feeling sparking in them while it seemed the world around them just faded in the background, only the wind and the movements of Mary's skirt and cape being picked and blown around in the same wind could be heard.
Their eyes closed, lips softly pressing against each other's, it soon drowned out Mary's butterflies that were in her stomach while a loving sense of spark was sent through her body along with Y/N's as the two shared their first ever lip-to-lip kiss.
And it was at the perfect moment...
Soon the two pulled away, a smack of their lips prominent as all smiles were shared towards one another with their eyes slowly opening.
"I know we're in College still, but I can't imagine my life without you in it, and the fact I'm dating a superhero makes it so much better" Mary's smile turned bright and joyful upon hearing his words. "I really want to build a life with you after College, to one day have our own house, and everything we've ever wanted. The thing I've always wanted... Was to just be with the best and dare I say it, marvelous person I've ever met, who is in fact the most beautiful girl that's ever came into my life, who needed a friend in a time of need".
"Aww, Y/N" Mary puckered her lips. "You're gonna make me cry".
The young man softly laughed at her response, he couldn't help it.
"Mary... I love you" three magical words is all he needed, not the other magic word that could transform one person into a superhero form, or at least... Put a superhero suit on in Mary's case.
She choked up on hearing his three magical words, smiling ever so lovingly as she tried to hold back her tears from earlier. "I... I love you too!" she brought him into second kiss, her lips pressing against his firmly but gently, knowing she was in Shazam form, any wrong slip-up, she could break his nose accidentally... Though she had firmly crashed her lips with his without realizing.
"Ow" he muttered in her lips, prompting her to pull back quickly.
"Oh my heavens, I'm so sorry!" she panicked, her face scrunching up thinking she screwed up.
"Haha, it's okay" he gave her a smile. "I'm okay" his drew his face closer to her again and lightly kissed her back on the lips, continuing it for a brief moment before pulling back. "This is why I love you, you're so sweet".
"I thought I hurt you badly there, forgot we were in the air for a moment there that I thought I wasn't Mary Marvel there for a moment, which you probably know what my powers are" she expressed her worry.
"Lost in the moment type of thing, completely understandable" he reassuringly smiled at her. "Hey, are you gonna fly us back or... Continue flying me around..." he looked at her with a mischievous look. "Mary Marvel" he smirked the next, making her smirk back at him.
"Hmm, well... I've always wanted to take you on a flight, so..." she puckered her lips suggestively, before smiling right at him.
"Then, what are you waiting for? Let's go... My Hero"...
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Fin...
Word Count: 4145
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Text
Assassin Part 2
Fem reader x Raphael
Warnings: alcohol/drunkenness
Part 1
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The wedding had been beautiful, and the reception was a blast. But now the party was beginning to thin as guests made their way to their lodgings for the night, and you've been watching them them leave from your place on the front steps of the main house.
The benefit of having a wedding on property you own is that you don't really have to clean up all that much until morning. As such, you've been posted here, making your way steadily through your own personal bottle of champagne, for the last hour.
You take a long draw from the bottle before setting it back down. Things had been going so well.
You look up when a shadow falls over the moon.
"Oh, hey Specs." You say to your exceptionally tall friend. Donatello sits down beside you on the steps.
He picks up the champagne bottle and swishes it to see how much is left. Yup. You're drunk.
"So, what was all that about?"
You shake your head, at a loss "I have no idea."
You think back over the Wedding for the millionth time in the last hour. You'd walked down the aisle with Raphael arm in arm, and *damn* that reptile could rock a suit. You remember really hoping that the amount of formal makeup you were wearing was enough to cover the flush of warmth in your skin every time he brushed against you and the very thin fabric of your dress. It was criminal, how handsome he was.
You remember your mind drifting during the ceremony to wishes and what-ifs. You'd glanced at him while April was saying her vows. Comfort, safety, home... Gravity. The person you keep coming back to. Why was your brain suddenly checking off boxes?
When the bride was being kissed you couldn't help but look over at him once more. Your... friend? Is that what he is...? The word doesn't seem right. Enough.
D is your best friend. You know what "best friend" feels like. But Raphael... You don't know what these feelings are. You've never felt like this about anyone. This *need*. To have him close. Closer. Finding reasons just to be around him. Coming up with excuses to touch him, just to feel his skin against yours.
Every relationship you've ever been in has felt like work, but things are *easy* with Raphael. Natural. It left you second guessing yourself. Wasn't it supposed to be hard? Weren't you supposed to have to try? Was it really love if you didn't have to fight for it?
April tossed the bouquet and you were the "lucky" one. The moment it hit your hands you decided you were going to talk to him about all of this. Maybe it wouldn't completely blow up in your face. Maybe he would be willing to see where this goes. After all, the night was already so magical, maybe you could squeeze out one more miracle.
Someone had approached you, placed their hand on your arm, and asked you to dance. In the moment it took you to say, "just a sec," he was gone.
You'd looked around for a moment, completely abandoning whoever it was that had asked you to dance, and finally spotted him walking toward the house. You ran to catch up.
"Hey, where's the fire, Red?" You'd giggled as you stumbled on the uneven ground, (more than) a little tipsy.
You'd felt the sigh, more than heard it when he stopped walking, and your brow furrowed. "You okay, Bruiser?" You'd asked gently.
"Yeah..." He'd said without turning around.
"Doesn't seem like 'yeah,'" you'd observed, walking around to face him. "What's up?"
"Nothin'. 'm just tired. Gonna head in early." He wouldn't meet your eyes. You were too buzzed to notice. Instead, you saw an opportunity.
Privacy was perfect! Exactly what you needed for what you had planned! "Great! I'll come with you!" You'd chirped brightly, as he attempted to side step you. You'd touched his arm. That's all.
As your skin brushed his he turned in a flash and had you by the wrist, his expression unreadable. It didn't hurt, he'd never hurt you, but his grip was like iron, and his eyes cold as steel. You'd never seen him like this. Completely guarded.
He held your gaze, almost searching for something, before realizing what he was doing and releasing you quickly. He muttered an apology, reiterated that he was tired, and took off toward the house.
You stood there dumbfounded for several long moments, trying to process what just happened. You considered going after him, but then thought better of it. Something was wrong and it obviously had something to do with you. You being around might just make whatever this was worse. You'd spotted Splinter heading toward the house as well and decided he was better suited to tend to Raphael.
You try to think past the haze of intoxication. You can't remember doing anything that might upset him. In fact, the last time you got to actually talk was before the ceremony and things were great then. At the reception you'd asked him, practically begged him, to dance with you several times. But he was always busy with something else. With the help of your good friend Dom Pérignon, you'd practically been throwing yourself at him all evening. And every time you'd approached him he'd seemed more and more uncomfortable...
Oh.
It must be love. Because this hurts.
You'd ruined it. You'd committed the cardinal sin of catching feelings. You'd condemned yourself even more by attempting to act on them. He was pissed. You'd upset the balance, changed everything, your relationship would never be the same... and it was all your fault.
"Do you wanna hear something stupid?" You say quietly, barely able to speak over the shattering in your chest.
"Shoot," Donnie says, taking a swig from the near empty bottle.
"I think I'm in love with your brother."
Now, Donatello has never had expensive taste, and you wouldn't think an internal organ would have any opinion. But for a second there, Donnie's lungs are drinking champagne.
Coughing, sputtering, and cursing whoever first discovered fermentation, he looks down at you trying to catch his breath. It would have been hilarious if you hadn't just ruined your own life.
"And I'm pretty sure he knows and I'm pretty sure he hates me," you say, as your eyes fill with tears. "Donnie, I think I ruined everything..."
........
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@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos
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Text
KISS ME RIGHT | MYUNG JAEHYUN
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PAIRING: down bad! frat boy! myung jaehyun x library worker! fem! reader 
SUMMARY: Jaehyung goes to the library everyday to see Y/n even though he's never touched a book in his life.
GENRE: fluff, imagine, frat boy
WORDCOUNT: 2k
WARNING: kissing scene towards the end!
A/N: Inspired by KISS ME RIGHT by Keshi -- the song is finally out! i've been waiting ever since his last tour ,, this song reminds of jaehyun’s flirty personality so ENJOY!
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The double doors of the library swung open with an exaggerated flair, and every head inside turned like it was a reflex. There he was again—Jaehyun, in all his glory. Hair tousled like he'd just come from the gym, a hoodie slung over his shoulder, and that ridiculous smile that could charm the paint off the walls. He strutted into the library like it was the hottest club on campus, and not the quietest place within a ten-mile radius.
Whispers buzzed through the aisles.
"Is that Jaehyun again?"
"Does he even know what a book is?"
"Bro, he’s here every day now. Do you think he lost a bet?"
But Jaehyun didn’t care. He barely noticed the stares anymore. All he cared about was making his way to the front desk, where Y/n sat. She looked calm, focused, her fingers flying over the keyboard, the glow from her computer screen highlighting her face. She didn’t even look up as he approached.
Jaehyun cleared his throat a little too loudly, startling a student reading in the corner.
"Yo, uh... hey," he said, trying to sound casual, like he hadn’t spent the last twenty minutes rehearsing those two words in his head.
She finally glanced up, her brow furrowed in mild confusion. It was like she was wondering why this human embodiment of a golden retriever was trying to infiltrate her serene library world.
"You’re here again?" she asked, her voice neutral but with a hint of amusement.
Jaehyun rubbed the back of his neck, his usual swagger deflating slightly under her gaze. But he quickly recovered, flashing that winning smile that got him into any party, out of any trouble, and, hopefully, into her good graces.
"Yeah, you know... studying and stuff."
She raised an eyebrow, glancing at the completely empty table he had staked out for himself behind her. No books. No laptop. Not even a notebook. Just him, spinning a pen between his fingers like he was preparing for the next big test in... nothing.
"Studying?" she echoed, clearly unconvinced.
"Yeah, you know... brushing up on... the Dewey Decimal System." He threw in a dramatic wink, like it was the cleverest thing anyone had ever said about libraries.
She didn’t laugh, but there was a tiny, almost imperceptible quirk of her lips. Success.
"Right. Well, let me know if you need help finding a book... or learning how to read." Her voice was dry, and Jaehyun's grin widened.
"Ouch, brutal," he chuckled, his face lighting up like she had just complimented him.
She turned back to her screen, though he could tell she wasn’t entirely brushing him off. That was all the encouragement he needed. Without another word, he made his way to his usual table—smack in the middle of her line of sight. He didn’t sit like a regular person. He flopped down with a dramatic sigh, then spread out across the chair like he was getting ready for a nap, not a study session.
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From her seat, Y/n could feel his presence, like a beam of sunshine she wasn’t sure she needed right now. Every time she glanced up, there he was, pretending to flip through the pages of some random book he’d grabbed. Every few minutes, he'd peek over the top of the pages to check if she was looking.
At one point, Taesan and Leehan walked by and nearly stopped in their tracks when they saw Jaehyun actually holding a book. Leehan nudged Taesan, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Dude, I think he’s... reading?"
Taesan snorted. "Nah, he's definitely planning something. Probably trying to get out of doing chores at the frat house."
Jaehyun pretended not to hear them, but he couldn’t help shooting a quick grin their way. Let them talk. He was on a mission—a mission that involved far more staring at Y/n than reading anything resembling words.
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As the library’s closing time approached, the once-crowded space thinned out. Y/n was busy packing up her things behind the desk, when she noticed Jaehyun still lounging in his seat, scrolling through his phone. Everyone else had left, but he lingered like he had all the time in the world.
She walked over, standing at his table, crossing her arms with a bemused expression. "You know we’re closing, right?"
He glanced up, his puppy-like enthusiasm returning as if she’d just thrown him a bone. "Oh, yeah, totally. Just waiting for the right moment to—" He glanced down at the book in front of him and then looked back up, suddenly sheepish. "—check this out. For... studying. You know, tomorrow."
She shook her head, but this time, the smile she’d been holding back all day finally broke through.
"You’re hopeless."
He stood up, grinning ear-to-ear. "Nah, just... committed."
She raised an eyebrow, a challenge in her eyes. "To studying?"
He stepped closer, playful but serious. "To you."
For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the quiet, empty library around them. Then she laughed—soft, real. And in that moment, he knew every second of pretending to study had been worth it.
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The bass from the speakers thumped through the walls of the frat house as Jaehyun stood near the kitchen, laughing with his friends. Red Solo cups in hand, they exchanged stories from the week, loud banter filling the air. Jaehyun was mid-sentence when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.
Out of the corner of his vision, Y/n stepped through the front door, her figure silhouetted against the dim lights of the hallway. She was wearing a sleek black dress that hugged her frame just right, her hair falling in waves over her shoulders. The noise of the party seemed to dull in his ears. He froze, his eyes locked onto her as if the world had slowed down just for a moment.
His friends continued chatting around him, oblivious to his trance.
"Yo, bro... hello?" Sungho waved a hand in front of his face. Jaehyun blinked but didn’t move.
"Earth to Jaehyun! What are you staring at, man?" Sohee nudged him, noticing where his eyes were glued.
His heart pounded in his chest, his mind still trying to process how she—Y/n—was here, in this chaos of beer pong and blaring music. She didn’t belong here, but she looked so effortlessly out of place, it was almost unfair.
"Bro, you good?" Hanbin laughed, realizing why he was distracted. "Dude’s done for, he’s totally smitten."
Jaehyun shook his head, snapping out of it. He chuckled awkwardly, trying to act nonchalant. "Yeah, uh, I’ll catch you guys later." He set his cup down on the counter and started weaving his way through the crowd toward her, his pulse quickening with every step.
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As he neared her, she looked around the room, clearly unfamiliar with the party vibe. Her eyes landed on him, and she smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He stopped a few feet away, his voice unsteady.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, more confused than anything. "Who invited you?"
She raised an eyebrow at his tone, folding her arms over her chest. "Jake invited me. I thought it might be fun." Her voice was cool, as if his question wasn’t welcome.
A flare of jealousy twisted in his gut, and he frowned, glancing around the room, wondering why Jake had to ask her. "You should’ve said no to him. This isn't your scene." His voice came out sharper than he intended, his frustration laced in every word.
Y/n scoffed, clearly annoyed. "Excuse me? You don’t get to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do." She took a step closer, her gaze hardening. "I didn’t come here for Jake. I came because I wanted to see you. But if this is how you're gonna act, maybe it was a mistake." Her voice cut through the noise, her disappointment evident.
Before he could even respond, she turned on her heel, moving deeper into the house, disappearing into the crowd of bodies and flashing lights. He stood there, dumbfounded, replaying her words in his head. She came to see him.
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His heart sank. He felt like an idiot. Without wasting another second, he pushed his way through the throng of people, his mind racing. How could he have messed up so badly in just one conversation?
"Hey, have you seen—" he asked one person, cutting himself off as he realized they didn’t know who he was talking about. He scanned the dance floor, the kitchen, even outside by the keg, but she was nowhere in sight. His frustration grew with every passing second.
He was a guy who could read a room, crack a joke, keep the vibe light. But right now? He was frantic. His friends slapped him on the back as he passed, asking him what was up, but he brushed them off. He couldn’t let her leave thinking that was all he had to say—that she wasn’t welcome here, when in reality, she was the only person he wanted to be around.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was really just a few intense minutes, he spotted her standing near the back patio, her arms crossed as she talked with a couple of people. She looked frustrated, her foot tapping lightly against the ground.
Jaehyun took a deep breath, steeling himself, and made his way over to her, determined to make things right.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅
Jaehyun took a deep breath, steeling himself, and made his way over to her, determined to make things right. 
As he approached, the people around her seemed to sense the tension, exchanging glances before slowly stepping back, leaving the two of them alone in the middle of the patio. The noise around them faded into the background.
Jaehyun opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. Then the words just spilled out.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out earlier. I was just... I don’t know, I saw you in that dress and... and then when you said you came to see me and not because of Jake, I just—" He paused, his hands gesturing wildly as he tried to find the right words. "I got jealous. It was dumb. I shouldn’t have said you shouldn’t be here, because I want you here. Like, I always want you here, not just at parties, but anywhere, and I—" He was rambling now, his thoughts tripping over each other in his rush to explain.
"—I just, I like you. A lot. And I don’t know how to deal with that sometimes. You’re... you’re like this amazing person, and I’m just the guy who’s pretending to study just so I can see you, and that probably sounds stupid, but—" He was talking faster, his words stumbling over each other. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he wasn’t even sure if he was making sense anymore.
Suddenly, Y/n stepped closer, cutting him off mid-sentence. Without saying a word, she stood on her tiptoes, leaning in.
Before he could process what was happening, her lips met his.
Time seemed to stop. His heart did a somersault, and his thoughts went blank. Her kiss was soft, brief, but it left him utterly frozen, like his brain couldn’t catch up with what just happened.
When she pulled back, Jaehyun stood there, completely stunned, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open as he tried to make sense of reality. For a moment, it was as though his whole world had paused.
Y/n looked at him and burst into laughter—an easy, melodic sound that broke through the tension. "You should see your face right now," she teased.
Her laughter snapped him out of his trance. His shocked expression melted into a grin, his heart racing for an entirely different reason now.
"Wait, you—" he started, his voice trailing off in disbelief.
She smiled, stepping closer again, her gaze soft but teasing. "Yeah, I like you too. Even if you pretend to read at the library every day." She gave him a playful nudge.
A flood of relief and pure happiness washed over him, and without thinking, he closed the gap between them, gently cupping her face and bringing his lips to hers once more. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of it. He could feel the smile on her lips, and it made him grin into the kiss.
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MASTERLIST
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024
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