#I wouldn’t be shocked if it were both to be honest

[ishikaxmehra]

Ishika didn’t miss the way his voice shifted, how humour softened into something heavier, something real. She’d caught it before—the way he used dry wit as a shield, how he crafted deflections with the precision of a man who had spent years perfecting the art of keeping people at arm’s length. And yet, here he was. Letting her in.

She moved slightly closer, not enough to push past their unspoken limits but enough to make sure he felt it. The warmth of her presence, the undeniable gravity between them. “Dangerously good?” she echoed, arching a brow, letting the words roll off her tongue with deliberate ease. “I prefer exceptionally good, but I’ll take dangerously.” Her lips curled, equal parts teasing and knowing. “I don’t just read people, Gavin. I read you.” She let that sink in, watching the flicker in his eyes as he absorbed it. He knew she wasn’t bluffing. His remark about promises and threats made her smirk. “Maybe I like keeping you on your toes,” she said, tilting her head ever so slightly, just enough to catch the way his gaze flickered to her lips before he pulled it back. “And let’s be honest, you like it too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be sitting here trying to figure out which one it is.”

His confession—most people give up trying to figure me out—made something shift between them. It wasn’t self-pity. No, Gavin wasn’t the type. But it was honest in a way that most people never got to see from him. And the fact that he’d let her hear it? That meant something. Ishika leaned in just a fraction more, voice dropping lower, softer, but no less certain. “I don’t try to figure you out. I just do.” She held his gaze, letting him see that there was no guessing involved. No analysis. No effort. Just understanding. “And I think you’re starting to realize you like that too.” She could see it in the way his walls were no longer quite so rigid, in the way he let himself wonder instead of shutting her out. And when he admitted—whether he meant to or not—that he’d been overthinking the cape situation, she laughed, low and knowing. “You? Overthinking? Shocking.” The tease was light, but the meaning behind it wasn’t. You don’t have to overthink with me.

And then he asked her—Who says I would ever pretend?—and she knew he was done pretending with her, at least for now.

Her smile turned sharper, more intent. “I would,” she said simply, tilting her head, voice laced with certainty. “Because you’ve spent a long time convincing yourself that keeping me at a distance is the safest bet for you.” She let a beat pass, her gaze unwavering. “But you wouldn’t be here, this close, if you didn’t want to see what happens when you stop pretending. And maybe…” She let the moment stretch, just long enough for him to feel the weight of it. “Maybe you’re finally willing to see exactly what could happen if you let your guard down.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. One he wasn’t ready to say out loud yet. But she was patient. She’d let him take his steps, let him think he was the one moving toward her. Even though they both knew—he already had.

Watching Ishika dismantle his defenses felt less like an intrusion and more like an invitation he hadn’t realized he was waiting for. It was unnerving, yes, but also intoxicating in a way that left him unmoored. She had this uncanny ability to see through the layers he’d spent years perfecting, peeling them back with a precision that felt almost surgical. It wasn’t just her insight - it was the way she wielded it, deliberate but never cruel, like she knew exactly how far to push without breaking him. "Anyone ever tell you you're dangerously good at reading people?" he asked, the humor in his voice a thin veil over the genuine awe she stirred in him. Her response, sharp and unflinching, sent a thrill through him that he couldn’t quite name. She wasn’t subtle, and she didn’t pretend to be. That certainty, that refusal to tiptoe around his barriers, sparked something electric in him. "Given your track record, I'd say that's either a promise or a threat … and I'm not sure which one's more interesting," he said, the words coming out before he could second-guess them. He wanted to know what she saw when she looked at him, even if the thought terrified him.

Most people hit his walls and turned back, unwilling to navigate the labyrinth of his guardedness. But Ishika? She walked through them like they were nothing more than smoke. "You know, most people give up trying to figure me out," he admitted, the confession slipping out in a way that felt both reckless and freeing. The truth was, he didn’t want her to stop. Her persistence wasn’t just disarming, it was magnetic. Every time she cut through his practiced indifference, it felt like she was rewriting the rules he’d lived by for so long. Her words about him owning it, about not doing things wrong, lingered in his mind long after she’d said them. They weren’t just words - they were a challenge, a dare to step out from behind the mask he’d worn for so long. The way she looked at him, like she could see past every joke, every deflection, made him feel exposed in a way that should have sent him running. Instead, it made him want to stay. "Maybe I've been overthinking the whole cape situation," he said, testing the waters of vulnerability, unsure if he was ready to dive in but unable to resist the pull.

Her certainty about him walking in her direction wasn’t just accurate - it was undeniable. He’d been orbiting her for longer than he cared to admit, drawn to her in a way that defied logic. When she called him out on pretending, on craving recognition while trying to stay invisible, it felt like she’d reached into the deepest part of him and pulled out the truth he’d been too afraid to face. "Who says I would ever pretend?" he asked, the words carrying more weight than he intended. She made him want to be seen - not just the version of himself he showed the world, but the real him, flaws and all. And that, more than anything, terrified and thrilled him in equal measure.

[fgumi]

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ THE BETTER

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; jungwon x reader, GENRE; fluff, one shot, WC; 2.3k, A/N; i almost scrapped this... i hope it's as cutie as i tried to make it... special shoutout to @hoonieyun because i finished this with her encouragement. also! tysm for 500+ followers! you guys are so kind. ilysm. }

what kind of girlfriend would yang jungwon have?

the answer seems obvious enough.

someone as kind and pure as jungwon deserved someone just as sweet. someone who smiled as brightly as he did, whose eyes sparkled like his did–someone that radiated the same loveable energy that attracts everyone to him.

but, in reality? you, as jungwon’s current (and first) girlfriend, were sort of a far cry from jungwon.

you weren’t cruel by any means, but you were blunt. you hated sugarcoating words and definitely didn’t go out of your way to make people feel comfortable. if people asked for your input, they should be expecting your straightforward, honest answers—not your fault if they didn’t like it.

if people compared jungwon to ragdoll cat—likeable, friendly, and cute—they’d probably say you’re like the black cat that’s historically considered unlucky and an omen. but, somehow, you two worked.

of course, people were always questioning your relationship.

when you two worked at the same cafe during your college years, there was a clear difference in how you treated customers. you weren’t particularly rude, just not cheerful like jungwon.

“i have two iced lattes for kiki!” jungwon happily shouted, pushing the two drinks out. the girl who picked up her shyly smiled at jungwon, only wavering when she noticed your dead stare at her. after that, she hurriedly away to her friend. you watched as they both giggled and glanced at jungwon wiping down the espresso machines.

“you’re too friendly,” you sipped your drink, glaring at the bashful girls.

jungwon smiled and turned to you with a teasing look. “it’s why i make more tips than you.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back on the counter. jungwon placed himself next to you after throwing the rag in the bucket.

“you seem grumpier than usual,” jungwon poked at your side. “anything i can do to make it better?”

“be less cute,” you muttered, words slightly disappearing in your drink.

jungwon laughed before peaking his head into your view. you immediately softened at his pretty face.

“if i were any less cute, you wouldn’t put up with me.”

you snorted as you chucked your empty cup into the bin. you busied yourself, organizing the misplaced powders and syrup bottles. jungwon followed a step behind you, weaving from either side of you to get your attention. when he stuck his face too close to yours, you pushed him away before glancing around you.

“we’re at work,” you whispered.

jungwon shrugged. “it’s not like the boss doesn’t know. i told him that i applied because of you.”

before you could reply, the same girl—kiki—came up to the counter. you stepped forward.

“what’s up?”

she frowned ever so slightly before clearing her throat. “do you think i could talk to the other barista?”

you raised your eyebrow. “i could help you just as much as he can.”

her lips formed a straight line before jungwon cut in. “how can i help you?”

you resisted letting your eyes roll for the nth time, returning to organizing the counter.

“i was wondering if you were free after your shift?”

you barely managed to disguise your laugh as a cough. jungwon pouted at you before looking back at her. “i’m actually getting lunch with my girlfriend! she’s been wanting to try this new brunch place and i promised to take her.”

the girl blinked, disappoint clear on her face. “oh. i hope you enjoy your lunch then.”

before you could move further away, jungwon pulled you into his side with a bright smile. “we will!”

disappoint made way for shock, her eyebrows raised. she didn’t say anything more, returning to her friend who excitedly awaited for news. you could see them exchange words before glancing back at you and jungwon, who was still holding onto you. you pushed yourself free and flicked his forehead.

jungwon winced at the twinge of pain and rubbed the spot. “hey! you’d think you’d be proud of me for mentioning you within 10 seconds of the conversation.”

“i told you we’re at work,” you lightly scolded. “do you want to get us fired?”

“the boss would never fire me,” jungwon cheekily said.

you knew it was true, so you just declined to respond. you made your way around the counter, choosing to clear dirty dishes and wipe down tables. jungwon shook his head smiling and finished up the work you left behind.

“that’s his girlfriend? no way. she’s like– a bitch.”

your ears twitched. you’re used to this unfortunately. from strangers to friends to family, everyone couldn’t believe that someone as sweet as jungwon would be with someone like you—someone a little mean (though, you resent that because you’d like to think you’re nice to people… you like).

“right? i don’t get it. she looked like she was ready to rip my head off for just ordering. like—sorry for making you do your job.”

“he deserves so much better.”

you agreed. not that you’d ever voice that to jungwon again. you say again because, in the early stages of your relationship, jungwon made it very clear that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thought—you were the better everyone wanted for him. you didn’t really see it but, after seeing how upset he’d get during those conversations, you stopped bringing it up.

you clenched your jaw, fingers gripping the dirty dishes, as you walked to the back. when you returned to the front, jungwon stopped you with a small smile and covered your ears. you frowned in confusion.

“don’t listen to them,” jungwon murmured, removing his hands for your ears to tuck the stray hairs behind your ear. “you’re exactly who i want to be with for the rest of my life.”

a blush burned your cheeks. maybe, just this once, you will ignore what others are saying.

it didn’t stop there though. those types of comments followed you into your adult life.

you made quite the reputation for yourself in your office. you were ambitious from the start and managed to make your way into a team leader position pretty early on in your career. but, it didn’t come without some office rumors about your character.

y/n’s harsh. she’s so cruel. i heard she blackmailed the manager for her position. y/n will rip you apart for any minor mistakes. interns, beware. the list goes on. you felt like they were unwarranted. what else did they expect in a high-profile company? your clients expected quality work that was free of mistakes. of course you were going to point out flaws. again, was your delivery cushy and sweet? no. but, they shouldn’t expect criticisms wrapped in pretty words.

their… opinions weren’t limited to work though. when jungwon stopped by your office to pick you up for lunch, they had plenty to say.

“hey,” he greeted cheerfully, stepping into the room with that effortless charm that drew everyone’s attention. your coworkers peered from their desks curiously, wondering how you interact with this stranger.

you glanced up from your desk, surprised to see him. “what are you doing here?”

“i finished all my errands early and thought i’d take you out to lunch,” he said, tilting his head cutely. “i can wait for you to finish up!”

you nodded, glancing at the papers on your desk. “give me 15 minutes.”

he gave you a thumbs up before softly whistling, looking around the office. jungwon walked over to the wall of excellent employees and grinned at your pictures hanging. he glanced at your coworkers, some having returned to their work. curious, he peaked over one of their shoulders. they jumped a little after noticing his presence.

he smiled sheepishly. “sorry.”

within minutes, he has the whole office laughing with him. when you finished reviewing the last proposition, you were met with the sight. you smiled softly. jungwon never failed to impress you with his ability to charm people.

you got up from your desk and walked over. “hey, i’m ready if you are.”

your coworkers’ laughs died down at your presence, a couple creeping back to their desks.

“i was just telling them about the first time we met!” jungwon laughed.

your eyebrow quirked. “when you fell into the fountain?”

he nodded as he reached to carry your bag. “still hard to believe you agreed to go on a date with me after that.”

you could practically hear the gears turning in your coworkers’ heads as they processed his words.

“you’re her boyfriend?” one asked.

jungwon grinned, clutching the straps of your bag. “yup! i’m a lucky man.”

“i think she’s the lucky one,” someone muttered under their breath.

you sighed and pulled jungwon towards the elevator, choosing to ignore their comment to go get lunch faster. jungwon waved goodbye as you entered the elevator.

before the elevators fully closed, you could make out someone saying, “someone as terrible as her with someone as kind as hi–”

you shut your eyes, performing breathing exercises you learned at the company’s mental health seminar. you could feel jungwon pull you into his arms before he peppered kisses all over your face. his attacks didn’t stop until you were giggling from how his kisses tickled.

“they don’t know anything,” he said, planting a final kiss on your lips. “they don’t know about how my girlfriend is the kindest person al–”

you covered his mouth before you exited the elevator. “not so loud. can’t have people knowing i’m a softie.”

jungwon kissed the palm of your hand, clasping it with his own as you walked out of the building. after years of being with jungwon, his pro-y/n propaganda got through to you, much to his delight.

but, even after all those years, jungwon’s friends still didn’t understand your dynamic.

“okay, real talk,” jake said during a game night at your apartment, gesturing between the two of you. “how do you two even work?”

“what do you mean?” jungwon asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“dude, you’re like the nicest guy i know—i’m talking nicer than the grandmas that feed pigeons—and y/n is…” jake trailed off, glancing at you nervously.

“go on. say it,” you droned with no real heat, crossing your arms.

“intimidating? but, you know, in a cool, really chic way,” jake said quickly.

jungwon laughed and wrapped his arms around you. “it works because she likes me just the way i am. a nice loser that is way too nice sometimes.”

sunghoon’s eyebrows furrowed. “blink three times if you’re scared.”

jungwon puffed his cheeks in annoyance. “she’s not scary, man. she’s the sweetest, shyest, prettiest, most lovable–”

you covered his mouth, your face burning in embarrassment. “that’s enough.”

jungwon pulled away from your hand with the biggest grin. “see?”

jake snorted and nudged sunghoon. “maybe jungwon’s the one scaring her.”

you all laughed and, tactfully, they never questioned you guys again.

sometimes, though, it still bothered you. why was jungwon—someone who was sunshine-incarnate—with you–grumpy in female form?

one night, as the two of you cleaned up after a dinner party, you asked him directly.

“why do you put up with it?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

jungwon looked up the dishes, bubbles somehow making their way onto his hair. “put up with what?”

“all the comments,” you said, rearranging the centerpiece. “the questions. people saying you could do better…”

he frowned and shut off the water, shaking off the gloves. “do you still think there’s better than you?”

you hesitated, caught off guard by his sincere stare. “it crosses my mind from time to time?”

jungwon shook his head, stepping towards you and pulling your hands into his. “there isn’t,” he said firmly. “there’s no one in this world better for me than you.”

you tried to pull away, feeling ashamed for feeling this way after all these years, but he held on.

“i like that you don’t pretend to be someone you’re not,” he continued. “i like that you’re honest, even when the truth is hard to hear. and i like that you don’t care about flattering others, because it means even more when you do compliment people.”

your chest tightened, his words sinking into the cracks you tried so hard to hide.

“i also like that you don’t care if people know how truly kind you are, because i know. i see it every day. i see it in the way you prepare my morning coffee, even though you’re the one that has to go to work. i see it in the way you put yourself in between the street and grandmas, in case something happens. i see it in the way you keep working after everyone’s clocked out to make sure your proposition doesn’t get rejected. i see it. i see you.”

at this point, tears blurred your vision. “but, you can do so much better,” you muttered, blinking the tears away.

“you are that better. you make me wanna be better,” he said with a grin, pulling you into a hug. “it’s okay if the world keeps talking. it gives me an excuse to fire back and talk about my super cool girlfriend.”

a laugh escaped you as you rubbed your face into his chest, a smile creeping onto your face. “you’re ridiculous.”

“and you love me for it.”

you really did. you loved him so much. but, according to jungwon, probably not as much as he loved you.

so, what kind of girlfriend would yang jungwon have?

someone who challenged him to be better. someone who didn’t sugarcoat things, who kept him grounded. someone who loved him so fiercely, even if they didn’t think they should be the one receiving his love. where others saw questions, he saw answers. you were it for him. and, hopefully, the ring sitting in his desk drawer was enough to prove it to you.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! come chat! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

tagged; @en-dream @heeheesang @bamguetismee @httpenhoon @r1kification

[idontcare4urmom]

“first?” • 1.014 words

⋆.ೃ࿔*:explicit content,subvirgin!chris,pussydrunk!chris,unprotected sex,praising kink,clit playing,oral (m! & f! receiving),dirty talk,etc.

!! first language is not english!!

you and chris had produced a special unbreakable bonding together since forever,you thought him as your best friend and you suppose that he thought you as his.you would often spend hours yapping around with him about different opinions and assumptions in the most random cases,or binge eat to dissimilar snacks until you were both intolerable full.

yet,you often would find in the back of your mind dreadful fantasizes about him,you couldn't stop it and it was starting to become irritating.he was too attractive,he had a fascinating personality that drawn you to him,though you never dared to admit it to him and neither to your own self,

you were both currently chilling on your bed,doing a movie marathon that was obviously his idea,you tried to avoid it but at the end he would always find a way to convince you on doing as he desired.after the awful options along with shows or films he choose were over,the conversation you were having was slightly different than normally,it was a pretty much sexaul one.

you knew that your friend wasn’t really the best on pulling girls,but you were more than jaw dropping shocked when you discovered that he was a virgin.you don’t know why you were so surprised but it was really hard to believe,

“wait,so you never had any type of sex? like ever?”

“not really,except oral once,i didn’t really enjoyed it to be honest”

you paused in your tracks when those words left from his mouth,and you couldn’t deny that your disbelief was absolutely high when you heard his statement.not only he had received head before and didn’t pleasured him,but he also didn’t want to take a step further than that?

“how is that even possible? i mean,is really rare for a man to not savour a blow job”

chris was incredibly amused by your current state,he found it quite adorable that you couldn’t believe what you were hearing,but the only thing he did was to shrug it off with his shoulders.

you almost yearned to prove him wrong,to convince yourself that maybe you were the one who would be able to actually unveil to him a newfound experience.you held back from pouncing on him when the logic shallowed up your intrusive thoughts.

it wouldn’t be possible to see chris the same if you actually decided to archive something so unfamiliar to both of you,right?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

not sure how things escalated so quickly,but in a matter of a few minutes your tongue was making contact with his,messily devouring his narcotic taste that already had you hooked.your hips were tantalizing against his,obviously craving for me since you could feel the sensation of his clothed erection pressing against your thigh,

you eventually broke the contact,breathlessly staring at him with a piercing gaze and with your pupils dilated from the satisfaction that was crashing currently through your veins,his own messy flushed expression sending waves of heat down to your core.

“don’t worry pretty boy,just relax and i will take good care of you,hmh?”

you didn’t hesitate to transfer to the ground,sinked down on both of your knees at the same time you reached from the waistband of his pants,discarding them off alongside with his slim underwear.you barely glanced towards his face,searching for any type of confirmation,and chris could only nod his head briefly.

his tip was the exact hue of his reddening expression,rosy and accompanied by leaks of gooey pre-cum,his blue orbs grand open with anticipation as you slowly capture it in between your mouth,triggering out a whimper from him.

“oh fuck..that’s it,please,please suck me off” the building pool in your panties was almost unbearable when you started bobbing your head in a semi bouncy motion and dawdling speed,connecting your throat around his throbbing head enthusiastically.

warm water rolls down from the corner of his eyes,pathetically coating his entire face while the unrelenting strength of your chocked gagging on his member jolted sparkling shudders over his spine.he hesitantly rocked his pelvis forward,until he finally founded the perfect amount of rhythm to match yours.

“shit..y-you are so perfect,just like that baby..’m so close” the lukewarm vibrations of your hum against his dick when he twisted his thumb greedily on your sensitive nipple under your top almost hooded him on his orgasm,but you smoothed his cock out of your plump lips,a whine slipping off his neck as a result.

you lazily tousled away any piece that covered your body,focusing on his mercifully fucked out face while positioning yourself down on his lap,your hips ruthlessly rubbing back and forth above his shaft.you weren’t able to contain the teasing phrases that escaped you when you heard him sniffling over and over again,his hooded glance frustrating your shallow pussy more into an impatience snap.

“my sweet boy,looking all innocent yet so far gone to pleasure..do you want me to ride you baby?”

“fuck yes,want to feel you so bad—don’t me beg more” he puffed,his eyes wide and imploring while his length curled upwards to graze leisurely against your vulnerable clit,a sly giggle pasting your mouth that transmuted into a indecent moan when you sunk down on him.

your inners walls enveloped squeezingly his cock as you rebounded your ass up and down on him,companied with at first hesitant yet deep bucking thrusts of his own,his thumbs securely digging the flesh of your waist deliciously while he stretched you out,his base sprinkled unwarningly with spurt jets of his release since he was already overwhelmed from earlier,his dick swivelling inside you and abruptly breaking yourself into a sob,

“please sweetheart—mhm,need you to cum around my dick,please” those were the last words you heard before crashing in an absolute ecstasy,white rings of seed busting and wavering around his leaking cock deliciously,

you struggled to collapse into your senses after the mind blowing yet short sex,your body finally submitting into a laying position on top of him,stimulating a low laugh from the man underneath you.

you were caught off guard when the next thing you felt was his palms spreading your legs open,his face leaping in between them to lap at your juices with his kitten relentlessly,triggering surprised mewls to drop from your parted lips

your high pitched sounds only urged him further,his tongue slipping slowly past your folds to caress every spot slobbily,his stubble unconsciously grazing against your sensitive skin as he didn’t stopped his action for even a second.

“chris,oh my gosh,s’ good” the pressure of your second up coming orgasm was already about to bust,and when the twirling motions of his mouth hugged your spot,you were cumming hard on his face,your calloused fingers gripping his hair locks as if your life depended on it.

chris continued until he made sure that he hadn’t left a single drop around your flesh,placing a last peck on your inner thigh before heightening up his head,his disheveled curls falling all over his forehead,

there was a long thick silence that crossed the room,the realization finally hitting your senses like a firm slap,not until a male voice was heard besides you.

“so,would you get too mad if i told you that i want more?”

ev’s note: literally haven’t written in so long..lmao 😬..anyways hope you enjoyed babies💗💗 #ihavenomotivationpleasehelp

taglist: @wiidfi0wer33 @chrislova @cutiepaiquill @zainabthescientist @jetaimevous @toysizee @chratts-left-ball @savvyratatouille @bellassturniolo @justexisting12

© idontcare4urmom

[muwapsturniolo]

𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐟💨 Matt sturniolo

“ did you just?”

✗ Awkward asf but realistic, NSFW, sex, mentions of queefing, secondhand embarrassment, that’s it me thinks.

You wanted the world to swallow you whole, you wanted to disappear.

You knew it was a semi-normal thing to happen, yet you were still embarrassed. It happened to most girls when having sex, although you never thought it would happen to you - It’s never happened to you until now.

Your legs were spread wide open, a pair of rough hands pushing the back of your knees on either side of your head - You were in heaven. “O-oh fuck Matt,'' he groaned in retaliation, his hips driving into you harder, the squelching of your essence filling the room.

Every once in a while, you noticed Matt would make a face, his hips stuttering. You didn’t know why, you figured he was just struggling not to cum quickly and paint your insides that shade of white that you both love.

You didn't think much of it, he always made faces when you two were having sex.

He was very expressive.

You were so lost in the pleasure Matt was providing you, you missed a specific sound that came from your body. When Matt suddenly stopped all movement, you were confused.

Why did he stop?

Did he cum already?

Why is he staring at you with wide eyes?

Did you accidentally call him daddy again?

All you two could do was stare at each other for a solid minute or so, before you finally spoke up.

“W-why did you stop?”

“I uh…d-did you just…”

Your brows furrow in confusion, did you what? What is he talking about?

“Did I what Matt?”

He stares at you silently, the only sound in the room being the both of you breathing harshly from the sexual escapades that had come to a halt.

“N-nothing, never mind.” He shakes his head as he tries to dismiss whatever he was talking about. You didn’t have the chance to interrogate him further, his hips resuming their actions.

However, he only got about five more pumps in before you finally heard it.

You were mortified, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you stare at him with wide eyes. He met your gaze, his eyes equally as big as his actions halted once more.

“Did you just far-No!” You quickly cut him off, your cheeks hot and your heart beating fast.

“It’s ok if you did…I mean, it doesn’t smell - Plus, I know you had dairy, and you’re lactose intolerant, so it makes sense.”

You could not believe the words coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t believe this is happening to you out of all people.

“Matt, I didn’t -'' you wave your hands around, hoping he would get the gist of what you were saying.

You didn’t know why you hated the word fart, maybe it was because your parents raised you to say ‘passed gas’, and the word fart was too cringy for you.

“You didn’t? Then what the hell was that?”

“I-I think I queefed I-I don’t know!" Matt could tell you were flustered, your tone becoming defensive. “Ok, ok! Just calm down!” He lowers your legs and rubs at your thighs for comfort, attempting to calm you down as he remains inside you.

After a few minutes of silence, he speaks up. “D-did you want me to keep going or…?” He trails off, unsure of what you want.

To be honest, the mood for both of you was somewhat ruined. He wouldn't be shocked if you told him to stop. Hell, he was sure you probably would hold off on having sex for a while after this as well.

Much to his surprise, you nodded.

“Y-yeah, yeah you can keep going.” You try to push the awkward tension away, hoping, praying, begging that you wouldn’t queef again.

He nods and begins to thrust softly once more. You were tense, anxious your body would do it again, but it didn’t. You allow yourself to relax, to feel the pleasure once more.

Matt sees this and picks up the pace, drawing out soft moans and mewls from you. Despite your orgasm dwindling from the first two times he had stopped his ministrations, it was quickly rebuilding itself.

Matt could tell, and he was determined to push you over the edge.

He grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, planting his hands on both sides of your head as he drives his cock deeper into your aching cunt. The sexual energy in the room was potent, the previous moment long forgotten as you both explored each other's bodies.

"Oh fuck m'close. Come on ba-"

It happened....Again.

“Ok ok stop!” You basically yell out. He stumbles back as you push him, his cock slipping out of you with a small pop, followed by even more air being released.

It sounded like a deflating balloon, almost like Donald Duck was in the room himself.

You were on the verge of tears, this was too embarrassing. It didn't help that Matt was smirking, biting his lip as he held back laughter.

"D-don't you dare say anything!" Matt raises his hands in surrender, backing up even more and moving to the other side of the room. You sigh and sit up slowly, hoping you wouldn't release anymore more air from your vaginal canal.

It didn't work.

You could feel the air passing through your folds, creating that wet farting noise - thanks to the bodily fluids you secreted- and making your folds ripple softly.

A soft snicker is heard, making your head dart to Matt. "Shut up! Don't laugh, it's not funny!" You shout as you throw a pillow at him. He cackles loudly, dodging the pillow at the same time.

"I'm sorry but it's funny! She's speaking to me!"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, "Mmcht, you're such a fucking boy." You mumble. You want to stand up and rush to the bathroom, but you didn't know if you could handle Matt's laughter at your excessive queefing.

"Get out."

"What? Baby come on, I'm sorry for laughing!"

"No, you're not. Now shut up and get out so I can go to the bathroom!" He holds back another round of laughter and slips on his boxers and sweatpants, quickly leaving the room and leaving you alone.

You waddle awkwardly to the bathroom, cringing every time another gush of air escapes you. As you stand in the bathroom, you quickly search up "How to get rid of queefs."

All you could find were multiple sources telling you there wasn't a way.

"Absolutely not, fuck this."

You try another search, " How to get rid of air down there."

Thankfully, you found an answer.

"Squatting down, especially while peeing, can help trapped air escape."

"This is great, but how the hell do you squat over a toilet without getting pee everywhere?" You mumble to yourself. You won't even deny it, your eyes dart over to the tub but you quickly dismiss that thought.

No way were you going to pop a squat and pee in your boyfriend's tub. You wouldn't hear the end of it.

You end up sitting backward on the toilet, your chest facing the lid as you do your best to squat.

Sure enough, you could feel the excess air release, echoing in the bathroom.

You finish up quickly, making sure to wipe and wash your hands before exiting the bathroom. As you walk out of the bathroom, you see Matt back in the room, sitting on his bed.

"Did you get that.... situated?" You roll your eyes and throw on your pajamas, laying back down on the bed. "You shut your damn mouth...And yes." He snickers softly and begins to situate himself between your legs, just as he always does.

The both of you sit in silence before he looks down at your clothed mound.

"So since you can speak, how do you fee-OW!" He winces as your hand comes down on the back of his head. He watches as you climb off the bed.

"Wait, where are you going?!"

"To Nick's room! At least he won't try to talk to my vagina as if it could talk back!"

He watches as you walk out the room, slamming the door in the process. He lays back down and chuckles to himself,

"I'm definitely changing her name in my phone to queef queen...maybe donald duck."

purrrrr im making this an awkward series! send in stuff that you would want to see!!!

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

I’m going to be blunt: he’s too much of a moron to even recognize that was the implication rather than just specifically banning him for being Ben Shapiro.

In light of the new Supreme Court decision, Ben Shapiro is now openly saying he wants businesses to be able to refuse him service for being Jewish.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

would you ever consider writing for jacob elordi? b/c now i'm craving him with a lawyer gf too😭😭 like he would sooo be with someone smart. those airport pics? buying books for her. the world? shocked he's not with a model.

Out of my league || Jacob Elordi x reader

A/n: love love love!!! And yes i plan on making more jacob fics :) i felt like i needed to post smth so here 😭

Warnings: none

Wc:

For the longest time, Jacob has always stayed private about his relationships. Whenever he would be asked in interviews, he would acknowledge he was in a relationship but never went into detail into who it was.

Fans have since then speculated that he was dating a model, or even another actress. Especially after an interview he had where he was asked if he was seeing anyone and he responded with “Yeah, I am. But I think she’s out my league to be honest,” with that boyish grin.

The two of you met while you were at a cafe in Boston, studying for an upcoming test when he left his wallet at the counter. You obviously knew who he was, I mean, who didn’t?

Jacob found you crazy attractive. Not just because of your looks but because you were smart. It wasn’t everyday he would bump into a Harvard student studying law.

After about two years of dating, the two of you decided that it wouldn’t matter if fans found out the two of you were dating. No one’s opinion would change anything.

jacobelordiupdates_

Liked by 3,047,183 people

Jacob spotted at Sydney airport buying books 👀 wonder where he’s off to?

view all comments

user1: 😍😍

user2: he’d be my airport crush omds

user3: he’s so hot I cant.

user4: the fit.

user5: damn his gf is so lucky

y/n_y/l/n: he’s actually coming to see me 🙃

↘️ user6: who even are u 😭

~

And so when he came to Boston to visit you—the day before valentines—he decided to finally post you on his instagram. Undoubtedly, Jacob’s fans went into a frenzy. Going crazy at the fact that they were wrong and that he was not dating model, or an actress like they suspected, but a Harvard law student.

jacobelordi

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, sydneysweeney, archmadekwe, and 9,397,028 others

What the monkey on the wall says 🐒❤️

tagged: y/n_y/l/n

view all comments

y/n_y/l/n: mwah!

↘️ jacobelordi: 😚😚

user1: OMG OMG OMG

user2: everyone wake up, Jacob posted about his gf

user3: so she isn’t a model…… WE WERE SO WRONG LMAO

user4: did anyone notice her comment on jacobelordiupdates_ post yesterday 😭😭

user5: oh to be her 😩

user6: she’s a Harvard law student? omfg I’m curious as to how they even met

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ☕️🔑

↘️ user7: IS THIS A HINT LOL

~

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by jacobelordi and 10,037 others

nope not a model, just your average Harvard law student!!

view all comments

jacobelordi: so much better than a model babe 🥱

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: hehehehehe 🥰

user1: JACOB IN THE THIRD PIC

user2: isn’t that the book he bought at the airport yesterday 😭

↘️ user3: YES!

↘️ user4: that was what I was thinking too 🤔

↘️ user5: that’s so cute aweee

user6: the caption. love her for that lmao

user7: she’s so luckyyy

user8: the fact that everyone for sure thought Jacob was dating a model 😬

↘️ jacobelordi: they thought wrong. law students do it better

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: lol sorry to burst ur bubble x

↘️ user8: OMG OMG U BOTH ANSWERED

user9: finally, a celebrity not dating some other celebrity or model 😂

user10: how can a Harvard student be out of Jacob Elordi’s league?!

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part eight)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The Sunday morning sky is cloudy, offering hardly any sunlight to shine into your dorm room. Considering the tangled, dreary way you woke up feeling, it’s fitting.

Liv comes over with smoothies from an on-campus juice bar.

“They call this one Hangover Cure,” she says as she hands you a tall, plastic cup. “So I got us both the biggest size.”

You smile and thank her, feeling like you have more of an emotional hangover than a physical one. You sit up in your bed as she sits in your desk chair, swirling the straw in her drink.

“So, what happened last night?” she asks.

You shrug and look down. You’re not sure you should hook up with Rafe anymore. You don’t understand how he can call you perfect and beautiful and baby during sex, but when you’re clothed, he acts casual. At best. At worst, he’s just a jerk.

You did share a tender moment last night at the party, but it lasted mere seconds before he turned the conversation sexual again.

“What always happens. We hooked up and I went home.” You take a beat. “You actually think he likes me?” Your voice is thin as you recall Liv’s text from last night.

“The jealousy on his face when I told him you were with Blake… was something else,” she tells you. “And the way he left with you?”

She gives you a knowing look and takes a sip of her drink.

“Do you like him?” she asks. Liv’s already heard all about your arrangement with Rafe, but whenever she hinted that it could be more, you laughed it off. You don’t laugh this time.

“I’d be an idiot to like a guy who tells me from the get-go that would never tie himself down with a girlfriend,” you say. “The jealousy was because he might lose his favorite booty call.”

“If you say so,” she says. You force yourself not to feel any hope from her words.

You think about the way Rafe looked when you asked him about his family last night. It was a small glimpse into a side you hardly ever see.

He does have a heart underneath all the attitude and temper and ego. And it’s clearly damaged. But you’re not going to make a fool of yourself hoping he shows it to you again, let alone opens it up.

“Anyways, look what Blake texted me,” you say. When you hand Liv your phone and she reads the message, she puts her hand over her mouth in shock.

“This is so cute,” she coos. “A man who directly tells you he likes you? That exists?”

“Apparently,” you say. “I think I’m gonna say yes.”

“You should,” Liv replies. “But, and don’t kill me for asking, would you say yes to Rafe if he texted you this?”

“He wouldn’t,” you say confidently, taking back your phone. “Okay, stop holding out on me. You made out with Sam? How did that happen?”

Your friend tells you about the rest of her night and you’re appreciative of the break from your own thoughts.

About half an hour later, Rafe is coming back from the gym when he hears your laugh coming from your room. He can’t pass up the opportunity to pound on your door.

“Too loud!” he calls, passing by. Liv gets startled and you laugh again, recognizing his voice right away.

“Asshole,” you quietly mutter. Liv looks at you for a moment, no doubt noticing the smile on your face.

After she leaves, you look at Blake’s text again.

Gotta be honest. I wanted to kiss you when we were in my room but you make me really nervous haha. Can I take you on a date? A real one. Not just a study date lol. All good if you’re not into it. Let me know.

While you haven’t always necessarily felt an overwhelmingly strong pull to Blake, you definitely have a crush. You wanted him to kiss you last night. Maybe you could make each other happy.

You reply: you don’t have to be nervous :) a real date sounds nice.

When Blake responds, you plan to go out to dinner together on Wednesday night.

On Tuesday, one of your floormates knocks on your door to tell you she’s having a party in the common room that night. Since alcohol isn’t allowed in the building’s public areas, she lets you know the booze will be hidden to give the impression that it’s a dry party.

You decide to take the invitation. It’s nearing 9 pm when you enter the large room, its walls already packed with a crowd of students you’ve seen around the building.

Music is playing under the overlapping conversations and bottles of juice and soda are scattered around the room. You’re sure they’re all made to look innocent but are spiked with booze.

You dive into conversation with a girl who lives a floor above you when you pick up a solo cup and fill it with juice, barely glancing at the table as the overwhelming aroma of vodka hits you.

Rafe will never turn down an invitation to a party. When he comes through the door, he sees you standing by one of the couches and chatting with someone. Like always, you look pretty as hell.

He looks to one of the tables in the room to see stacks of different colored solo cups behind pieces of paper, words scribbled in marker. It must be some sort of party game.

The pink cups are behind a note that says Taken; the purple, Down to Smash, blue, Single; green, It’s Complicated.

He glances at you again to see you holding a purple cup. Down to smash?

You’ve been chatting for a while now, your cup empty and your head already sort of buzzing from how much vodka was in the bitter juice. You look up from your conversation to see Rafe gazing at you from across the room.

You hate how he can be so relaxed, in a simple t-shirt and jeans and messy hair, and still look so good.

He has a ridiculous effect on you. You accept this as a fact when you realize you’re overjoyed to see him. He’s captivating without even trying.

It’s the type of happiness you feel when you see a good friend, you tell yourself.

Your heart skips a beat when he crosses the space, closing the distance between you. You tell the girl it was nice talking to her before Rafe inevitably interrupts you.

He approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Interesting choice,” Rafe says.

“What?”

“That,” he mumbles, pointing to your cup.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you laugh.

Rafe silently nods his head towards the desk by the door. You glance over to see writing in front of each stack of cups.

“Oh,” you say, brushing past him to look down at the spread. “I didn’t know the colors meant anything.”

You can still taste the juice you drank. The vodka was good, but the juice wasn’t.

“Yuck, I hate this flavor,” you say. Rafe looks over at the bottle you must have poured from.

You study the cups, and if you’re really honest, the green cup is the most fitting. It’s Complicated. Because you’re not looking to casually hook up with anyone else, yet you’re not devoted to someone. Single makes you look like you’re hoping to be in a relationship, when you already sort of like two guys at once.

“What’s complicated?” Rafe asks when you pick it up. He wonders if it’s because of Blake.

You give him that look he’s so used to by now, that look that somehow irritates him and turns him on at the same time. At least you didn’t pick up the Taken cup. He can still touch you if you let him.

For a moment, he imagines a world where he isn’t in a frat. Where you two meet like this, at a dorm party, and he doesn’t have to watch you get slowly taken away by a guy he introduced you to.

“I can’t explain it. That’s what makes it complicated,” you flirt with a smug smile. You decide to put the cup back, still holding on to the empty purple one, figuring you’re tipsy enough for a school night.

“Why not?” he asks, muttering his words angrily.

“Is being mad, like your default state?” you ask with a small smile. “Or are you just jealous?”

“What the hell would I be jealous of?” Rafe’s eyes dart away.

“Blake,” you reply bluntly. His blue eyes meet yours.

Does he not know how transparent he is? He was pissed when he learned you were with Blake last night. He basically yanked you out of the party.

“You know you could easily find another girl to fuck around with, right?” you say. “I know of two, at least.”

You think back to the girl he had moaning in his room and the girl he made out with at the mixer party.

“I wanna fuck around with you,” he says. You let out a disillusioned chuckle.

“Charming,” you mutter. The response tells you everything you need to know. He’s mad because he’s losing a fuck buddy.

“Are you with him or not?” Rafe asks sternly.

The conversation has ignited an alluring tension between you. You were considering stopping the hook-ups. But you melt under his gaze, head swimming, core heating.

You’re nobody’s girlfriend. Why not have great sex with a friend while you’re available?

“I’m not,” you say, looking down at your purple cup. “I guess this was the right choice for tonight.”

Despite the irritation and jealousy gnawing at Rafe, he happily surrenders to the rush of excitement prickling his skin.

“Why aren’t we fucking then?” he asks.

“We?” you tease, pulling at the string making him jealous just a little more. “I was thinking I should find someone else and put all my practice to the test.”

“Shut up,” Rafe says with a lazy smile, taking the empty cup from you and placing it on the table, replacing it with his hand.

It’s almost funny, considering he was so against holding your hand the night on the boat, but now does it in front of a crowd of people.

His grip is tight as you leave the room together. Pulling you out of parties to get naked with you is becoming a new habit of his.

You’re glad he doesn’t suggest going to your room. It’s easier to leave him after the sex than to be left.

With that thought, a moment of self-restraint hits you when his door slams behind you and his lips are on yours, hands cupping your face.

“Turn on some music,” you pull back to tell him. “Loud.” Hopefully it’ll keep him from talking. His tender words are too much if you want to protect your heart.

He flips on a playlist on his speakers. Of course he has one at the ready. You bet he has turned it on for lots of other girls.

The first few notes play. You love this song. You knew what kind of party music he liked, but who knew you’d have the same taste in slow songs as Rafe does?

Rafe’s mouth finds yours again, his tongue swirling gently, his body curving into yours as you stand in the middle of his room, the gentle music filling your ears.

You both have your own pace, so in tune with each other now. He knows where to touch you and when, stripping layers off you between heated, deep kisses.

Once you’re in your bra and panties, you realize this might have to be the last time. Because his lips and hands feel damn near perfect as they roam over you. Because now you can only hope you find another man who can touch you and push you out of your comfort zone like this.

You urgently pull his shirt off and shift to sit on the edge of his desk, pulling him in, cupping his firm shoulders. Rafe smiles, amused by you taking control. You really aren’t shy anymore.

“You want me to fuck you on my desk?” he mumbles against your ear over the music. He spoke, but as long as it isn’t misleadingly romantic, you’re okay with it.

He unhooks your bra, squeezing your chest tenderly.

This is just sex. And with the confusion and uneasiness you’ve been feeling, you desperately want to get lost in the pleasure you know he can give you.

“Be rough with me,” you urge. Rafe’s stunned by your words, feeling himself throb with need.

“Look at you telling me what you want,” he praises in your ear, unbuttoning his jeans.

Once his pants and boxers are off, his hands grip your knees, aggressively pulling your legs apart. He presses over the dampness in your panties with his fingers, watching you through hooded eyes as your breath hitches.

“You wet for me?” Rafe mumbles. The moistness between your legs is palpable without you even needing to touch yourself.

“Might’ve made a mess,” you answer, looking down as he stimulates your clit, brushing over your moistened panties. Your words are so hot to him that he almost feels dizzy.

“Shit, baby,” he groans. “I can’t fucking wait to be inside you.” His fingers slip under the band of your underwear, pulling them down your legs.

He pushes your knees apart again, even rougher this time, massaging your bare pussy, coating his fingers in your arousal.

You’re so wet, so sticky, that his cock is aching at this point. He’s so glad you want it rough tonight.

Rafe finds the small of your back, nudging you forward so you’ll tilt your hips up how he wants you to. He takes a condom out of his drawer and you grab it out of his hand, ripping open the wrapper and holding his cock as you roll it down.

It’s intoxicating to him, seeing how bad you’re craving him. How’d he get so fucking lucky to be wanted like this?

Once he can guide his tip into you, he shifts to hold your hips down and look you in the eyes as he jerks into you hard.

The sudden jolt causes you to hit the back of your head on edge of his top shelf and while you giggle, his brows furrow in concern. He brings his hand up, resting it where you hit your head, thrusting into you again and letting the shelf dig into his skin instead.

The gesture is tender but then again, almost everything Rafe does during sex is tender. Why can’t he be like this all the time?

His other hand cups your cheek, pulling back and pushing into you hard again. Your breath hitches at the pressure of him curving up into you like this in the new position.

His thrusts start quickening, the desk rattling against the wall, the music throbbing within the walls of his room. Your pulse is skyrocketing as you take in his aggressive pressure.

“Feel good?” he murmurs.

You nod, lost in the pleasure, eyes rolling. He gently tugs at the roots of your hair, coaxing you to tilt your head back and look at him with your eyelids half-closed and lips parted.

“Fuck, that’s nice,” he whispers. “Like you were made for me.”

This is the shit that brings your heart into something that is only supposed to be about your body.

You press your fingers against his mouth to shut him up, but he takes the opportunity to shift and kiss your palm as he pushes into you.

“Don’t say that stuff,” you mumble.

“What?” he whispers with a mocking chuckle. “Thought I taught you to take compliments.”

“Just don’t,” you urge, leaning in to meet his lips again. Rafe kisses you hard but pulls back, forehead pressed up against yours.

“You still don’t think you’re perfect?” he rasps.

“It’s… it’s not that,” you say. Fuck. He’s just making it worse.

“I thought talking was good,” he says, almost in a whine.

“Just stop,” you tell him, kissing him again.

Rafe hates being told not to speak when all he wants to do is tell you how good you feel, but he gives into the confusing request when he hears the desperation in your tone.

Hell, he’d stop talking for days if it meant he could have you like this.

He deepens the kiss, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth. You groan at the sweet pain, shifting to wrap your arms around his body.

This position isn’t enough. You want him to be able to thrust into you as deep as possible.

“On the bed,” you say urgently. He hates pulling out of you but follows your instructions, watching you drop your feet to the floor.

When you sink onto the bed, your ass in the air, your pussy glistening, his stomach rolls with excitement. He settles behind you, propped on his left knee and his right foot, guiding into you again, watching his cock disappear as you swallow him.

You arch your back and groan, your pulse hard in your ears as he goes balls deep into you. He starts to go so hard that you feel like he’s splitting you open with every frantic thrust, your fingers bunching into his pillow.

The music is too loud. He wants to hear your pretty moans. He shifts off of the bed and you look back in confusion, watching as he shuts off the music and comes back, burying into you again.

“I wanna hear you,” he says. You rest your forehead onto the bed, pushing back onto him as he slams into you. Admittedly, you want to hear him, too.

Your breaths are shallow with his fast pace, sweat coating your skin. His stomach is starting to ache from how hard he’s working his muscles.

“Touch yourself,” he orders. “Cum with me.”

You shudder as you find your swollen clit, rubbing just the way you like while he pounds in and out of you. Rafe loves the way his hands look gripping your hips, your ass recoiling with every move.

“You take it so good,” he says, voice ragged. “This pussy is mine. You’re fucking mine.”

You hate that his possessive words sound so nice to you. A deep pleasure starts to roll through you, your orgasm slowly reaching you. He can tell with the way you’re tensing that you’re close and he goes even harder, your skin slapping.

You moan and shudder through your peak, clenching around him. Rafe’s groan is deep as he feels his cock swell and tighten, releasing and spasming with hard jerks.

His chest is heaving as he pulls out, watching you limp to your side, your face soft and satisfied.

Rafe doesn’t bother to stand and clean up yet. He’ll worry about it later. He gives into the impulse to lie down behind you, his body curving against yours, arm wrapping over your chest.

Your eyelids are heavy as you come down from the high, thinking about the things he said.

“Turns out you need more pointers,” you say between heavy breaths. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that to a girl when you don’t mean it.”

“Like what?” he says into your ear.

“You know what,” you say. “I’m not yours.”

Rafe knows he fucked up by saying that. That’s the kind of shit a boyfriend would say. And he so clearly isn’t the boyfriend type and you so clearly see him as just a friend.

“Why are you so mad, huh?” he says, trying to dismiss the tension. “You’re acting like me in… what’d you call it… my default state?”

You laugh despite yourself. He feels an overwhelming sense of pride from making you smile when you’re clearly upset.

You try to sit up, but his arm is locked around you. His breath is warm and comforting on the back of your neck.

He doesn’t understand where you’re rushing off to. You told him aftercare was important. And for fuck’s sake, now he actually wants you to say and let him hold you for a little while.

You don’t like this. You two are getting dangerously close to cuddling. It’s like he’s trying to make you catch feelings for him. Just because he can separate affection from emotion, doesn’t mean you can.

“Hate to make you sad but I gotta go,” you quip. He exhales mockingly.

“I don’t get sad,” he says bitterly. This makes you still.

With those simple words, Rafe has said so much. You knew he was emotionally unavailable, but the clear disgust he has with the possibility of feeling sad is telling.

“Everyone gets sad,” you say. You think back to his father’s cruel scolding. “And if anyone makes you feel like you’re wrong for being sad, they’ve got their own issues.”

Rafe can’t wrap his head around this. He’s been told to man up all his life.

“Did you fall asleep?” you ask with a chuckle after he doesn’t reply.

“No,” he says quietly. “You honestly believe that?”

“What?”

He’s silent again.

“That it’s okay to be sad, you mean?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Of course,” you say. “What, you don’t?”

“It’s weak.”

You stare ahead at the wall opposite his bed, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but you think you can feel his heartbeat against your back. It’s gotten faster.

“Do you really think that? Or did someone make you think it?” you ask.

Rafe has never been challenged like this before. Whenever his father berated him for simply getting close to crying, he was told to grow a backbone. To stop his whining. His whole life.

“I really think that,” he finally says. If sadness wasn’t weakness, why did it always make him feel like he was breaking from the inside?

His coldness makes so much more sense to you now. It seems Rafe doesn’t allow himself to feel anything but anger.

“It’s a good thing you’re not the relationship type,” you say with a sardonic laugh. “Some advice, though? If you ever find a girl you want to be serious with, don’t make her feel shitty for being sad. It’s not weak to have feelings.”

Rafe wants to know if you said he’s not relationship material because he told you himself or if you really think it.

Then he scowls to himself. Why the fuck does he care?

“You’re just full of advice tonight,” he says with a smirk, his hand running over your ass.

“That’s why we started this, isn’t it?” you reply, closing your eyes for a moment to enjoy the sensation. “Speaking of, consider therapy.”

Rafe playfully and gently slaps your ass and you giggle, squirming out of his grip. When you try to get up again, this time, he lets you.

His eyes take you in as you pull your clothes back on, his head propped up on his hand, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. You look at him, noticing how flushed he is from how hard he went.

Normally, being watched like this would make you nervous, but you’re fine with his eyes on you. You actually like it. You’re not sure if it’s because of Rafe or if you’d feel this way with any guy now.

Rafe watches you as you get dressed, getting deep in your thoughts like you do sometimes. How are you so damn cute?

You’re reconsidering your idea of if this should be the last time having sex with him. It feels too good. You’re still buzzing. While you’re single, why can’t you casually hook up with him?

“Fuck, you’re fun,” Rafe says, his bright smile and deep dimples melting your heart.

Okay. This is why you can’t. You started this because you basically hated him when you decided on it. Now, you can’t imagine hating the sweet, complicated man lying in bed watching you.

Maybe this was the last time.

“I know,” you respond with a smile, copying his cockiness. You finish dressing yourself and rush out to take a shower, wishing the water could wash away the complicated feelings bothering you.

The next night, an hour before Blake said he’d pick you up, you’re getting ready, music playing loudly from your computer.

Rafe is trying to make sense of a syllabus as your music floats into his room. He thinks of last night and immediately wonders if you’re hosting someone. And having sex with them.

As you try on your third outfit, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: loud af… do i need to tell on you

You smirk.

You: dude it’s not even quiet hours

You calling him dude reminds him of the way you called Blake babe the other night. He forces away the memory.

Rafe: partying by yourself?

You: yup getting ready for a date

Rafe looks up from his screen, disappointment wrapping around him like a heavy blanket he can’t shake off.

His stomach sinks hard. Harder than it did the other night at the ABC party when he heard you were upstairs with Blake.

You’re slipping away from him. Anger pools in his stomach but he tries to act casual, teasing you like he always does.

Rafe: who tf would date you lol

You roll your eyes at the text.

You: people with taste… jerk

Rafe: just kidding

You: hate u

Blake pulls up in front of the dorm building ten minutes late, apologizing profusely for his timing. You laugh and forgive him, sliding into his car to see he got you a bouquet of flowers.

He takes you to a restaurant off-campus, pulling out your chair. You sit across from him, taking in the way he’s sitting up straight.

“You look cute,” he says.

“Thanks. You clean up nice, too,” you say. “Compared to the plastic bags you were in the last time I saw you.”

Blake’s smile is big, his laugh gentle.

“You have fun at the party?” he asks.

“I did.” And after it in Rafe’s dorm.

“Cool,” he replies. You nod, looking down at the menu. The way conversation between you moves reminds you of your study date. It’s not painfully awkward, but it’s not seamless.

You figure it’s nerves.

When your food arrives, Blake takes a picture of the table. Once you start eating, your discussion starts to flow a little easier, making jokes and pulling from topics you’ve discussed over the phone since you started texting.

Blake’s a gentleman, parking to walk you up to your door after he drives you home. His hand ghosts over your shoulder as you walk through the hallway, his touch warm.

When you stop in front of your door, Rafe can hear you talking. He saw Blake’s Instagram story. It was just a photo of food at a restaurant, but it doesn’t take a genius to know he was with you. The date you had was with him.

“You really liked the food?” Blake asks you for the third time. You chuckle at his nervousness.

“You picked well,” you reassure. “And thanks for the flowers.”

How original, Rafe thinks. He got you flowers.

A group of fellow residents pass by laughing. If Blake tries to kiss you, you probably won’t like it in such a public space.

“That was fun,” you say, stepping back a little, hoping he gets the hint that this isn’t the place to make a move.

“It was. Oh, we’re going to the beach on Saturday,” Blake tells you. “Not everyone, just a few of us. Bring Liv. Between you and me, Sam likes her.”

“Yeah?” you say with a laugh. “Sure. That sounds fun. I’ll invite her, too.”

“Great,” he replies, nodding.

“Good night,” you say. Blake gives you a tight grin and echoes the sentiment, stepping back to give you the space to open your door.

Rafe finds a text Sam sent him a few hours ago.

Sam: you alive?

Rafe hasn’t been to the frat house since the party last Saturday night. To be honest, he’s not sure how he can handle being around Blake. He can’t exactly lose his temper on his brother. His future at the frat will be shot.

But he wants to be at the beach if you’ll be there.

Rafe: yes lol whats the move this weekend

Thankfully, Sam mentions the beach plan Rafe overheard about. Maybe he loves to torture himself. Or maybe he just wants to take every opportunity to see you.

You pull up to the beach in Liv’s car on Saturday. The boys picked a good day to swim. It feels like a heat wave.

When you find the group of six guys, you’re happy to see that Rafe is one of them. He’s in his swim shorts, his baseball hat on backwards like usual.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” you say when he notices you. “Gross.”

“Shut up,” Rafe says with a smirk, flipping you off. He takes in how good you look in your dress, eager to see the bikini underneath. “Why the hell did you come? Brothers only.”

“Am I not basically one of you now?” you say, leaning over to greet Blake with a side-hug. Rafe’s smile disappears and he looks away.

Blake hands you a bottle of flavored seltzer and you look down at it, cocking your head, trying to figure out how to kindly turn it down. It’s the same flavor of spiked juice you drank last night.

“She doesn’t like that flavor,” Rafe mutters.

Blake meets his gaze, pulling the drink back towards his chest.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. Funny enough, you actually mentioned not liking it on your date when you were swapping hangover stories. He looks at you. “I knew that. Sorry.”

“All good,” you chuckle. “What else you got?”

Blake leads you to the large cooler in the sand and you steal a glance at Rafe, whose jaw is clenched tight.

As the afternoon goes on, you realize Blake is less nervous talking to you when other people are around.

The eight of you play a game of beach volleyball. Rafe considers Blake lucky that he’s on the same team as him. He’d whip the ball at him every chance he got if he were on the other side of the net.

At one point, Sam serves it so hard that you have to duck onto the sand, the ball bouncing off your arm, leaving a stinging feeling.

“You trying to kill her?” Liv scolds her teammate. You feel a hand cupping your forearm.

“You good?” You look up to see Rafe leaning over you, his voice deep.

“Yeah,” you say. Rafe is pissed off beyond belief that Blake is just standing there like an idiot, watching you instead of making sure you’re okay.

“You alright?” Blake asks from his place on the court in front of you.

“Yellow card worthy,” you joke, getting up on your feet.

When the game wraps up after you all decided to stop keeping score ages ago, Blake approaches you, looking down at you with a shy smile.

“You wanna swim?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say.

The water is so cold that it feels sharp, leaving you and Blake to laugh together with every step into the sea.

Rafe is sitting in the sand with his buddies, watching Blake’s hand find yours. The view makes his stomach turn.

It seems natural between you two, the way you touch, the way you splash each other and laugh together.

He gets the same feeling he did the night of the mixer party, when he felt like his anxiety over losing you wasn’t just because he was losing great, casual sex. It’s not only that. It’s more. And that fact makes him uncomfortable.

But that shit just doesn’t come naturally to Rafe. Affection is like a foreign language to him. He’s not into the boyfriend stuff solely because he doesn’t want to do it. It’s also because he can’t. He doesn’t know how to.

Buying flowers, planning dates… he’d feel totally lost. He can’t compete with Blake. Like Rafe always says, doing something serious like dating in college is a waste of time. Maybe he believes that because he didn’t think he’d meet someone like you. And because he doesn’t want to fail at it.

You and Blake stop when you figure you’re deep enough in the water, the sand soft beneath you, the sun shining down.

“I keep messing up today,” he says.

“What?” He looks down, shaking his head, lips twisting adorably. These cute, little moments remind you of why you have a crush on him.

“Can I kiss you?” Blake asks.

You smirk, relieved that you can finally do this and feel if your physical chemistry is there like you think it is.

When Rafe sees two figures join in the distance, his heart drops.

(part nine)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[hanasnx]

brucie and his 19 year old girlfriend who he flaunts around Gotham like it’s no big deal. he takes her everywhere and anywhere there will be press. everyone is so shocked and they don’t even know what to say. especially the kids. dick and jason are (high key) jealous of it… -🍓

PART ONE �� PART TWO MINORS DNI 18+

BRUCE WAYNE has been keeping you around to garner attention around himself and off of his dealings as the Batman. You were the perfect candidate given your social influence, your popularity, and it helped you were easy on the eyes. If Bruce Wayne was the center of controversy for dating someone half his age, Batman could keep a lookout on Penguin’s latest caches without distractions like the Cobblepots releasing a statement that Batman is wrongfully investigating a man based on appearance. Prejudice doesn’t make the news, but an age gap does.

You practically float off the floor when Bruce is around, whether it be an arm around your waist; leading you or twirling you like a dance with music he hums; sweeping you off your feet, easily up over his head. It becomes clear why he’s so dangerous, he’s such a charmer. Somehow he has romance dialed in, and you fell for someone so put-together. You love going everywhere with him, and when a fan asks for a picture, he’s the first to hug you from behind and curl his huge body around you, cheek-to-cheek with his chin over your shoulder. He’s so shamelessly touchy. It gets to a point where he likes when you scold him with a pat. Hitting his sturdy bicep when he tugs the neckline of your dress to him for a peek at your tits, and all he does is growl at you playfully, like you’re asking for it later.

To be honest, you are. Yet, Bruce won’t get it to you. He dangles it over your head in public, but alone he makes up some excuse and calls his butler to drive you home.

One time when you’ve been invited to the Manor, it was so you could get ready and drive to a gala with Bruce. Arriving together is a big statement, and you’re excited, but in a much realer sense there’s a tickle of dread in your stomach. Bruce told you to make yourself comfortable and wait for him, he’s terribly sorry that he has to attend to something first and if he’d had it his way a lady wouldn’t wait on a gentleman. You’ve already fantasized this might be it, he’s finally going to ask you. Sitting on this chaise in front of a fire you clench your legs together at the reminder. Perhaps he’s getting ready so he’ll finally sleep with you. Briefly, you imagine what the paparazzi would bark at you if you arrived to the gala with sex hair. It brings a smile to your face.

Just in case, you had outfitted yourself with a tasteful nightgown underneath your clothes, and you decide now is the time to enact it. Shimmying off your garments, you then arrange yourself seductively on the chaise. Bruce’ll be here any minute, and he always acts so insatiable in public. Maybe if you surprise him, he won’t be able to steel himself. Your fingers play with the hem, already short but your ride it up even more, and trace circles onto your bare hip. You’ve felt his hands on your hips when you wore a stringy little bikini for him on his yacht, and those callused hands had pulled you right down on his lap to stick his tongue in your mouth. You can still taste it, closing your eyes to revisualize it. He was so big underneath you—

“… and this is a one time thing, understand? My debt is paid.”

“Don’t worry, birdboy, I won’t tell your old man—“

Voices come into focus, alerting you as the door opens and not one but two people come in. Two people you do not recognize. Without thinking it through, you stand to conceal your seductive pose meant for someone else, and everything else slips your mind.

Two men. Boyish. Both with black hair that’s grown out, and one of them with a white stripe sprouting from the front of his hairline.

“Oh,” DICK GRAYSON says. He’s no stranger to walking in on something he shouldn’t see. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“Nice outfit.” JASON TODD adds, and you can tell he’s making fun of you. Your cheeks grow red hot, and you scramble for something to cover yourself up. A thin throw blanket folded over the back of the chaise is hastily straightened out to cover yourself.

Wary he might cause you grief, Dick points to a bookshelf behind you. “We just have to… get something.” He waits for something, and you realize he wants you to reply. You nod, hoping to just end this as soon as possible.

The blanket covers most, but a lot of your thigh is exposed. You try to turn with them as you they pass you, but Jason cranes his neck to catch a glance of your ass. The undersides of it hang out of your tiny nightgown. An indignant crease in your brow forms, and you make an obvious move to yank the blanket over your ass, turning it away from him. Dick keeps going, Jason hangs behind. “What’re you doing here, missy? You look a little young.” Condescension. The last thing you need right now is a conversation.

“Yeah, are you looking for someone?” Dick asks over his shoulder, more polite than his companion as he searches the spines of books with a finger.

You hesitate to say anything, you don’t know these people. “I’m waiting on someone.” A tremble shivers through you, the back of you cold from being away from the fire, and your nerves didn’t help.

“You’re not a hooker, are you?” Jason’s blunt nature shines through in his question, not that he’s intrigued or judgmental, just curious.

Your first instinct is to be offended he’d say something like that to a lady, frowning at him with a scoff. “What? No! And—!” It dawns on you that you shouldn’t put down sex work, you’re overreacting. So you wiggle your shoulders and stick your nose in the air, prissing up your attitude. “It wouldn’t matter if I was.” you say, quieter this time.

“Sure, it does. I’ve got cash on me.” Jason replies, only to get that cute offended look back on your face.

“Jason, shut up. She doesn’t know you’re trying to get under her skin.” Dick plucks out the book, and flips through it. He joins you and Jason, and you take a wary step back. He doesn’t notice, snapping the book shut and handing it off to Jason. Those blue eyes are back on you again, and you swear you see him give you a quick once-over. “Whoever you’re waiting on is a lucky guy.” he says, and by his tone you’re unsure if it’s a genuine flirt. When he smiles, dimples define, and for a brief second you’re weak in the knees.

A third voice pipes up, deeper than them both. “She’s with me.” Bruce says, walking in as he adjusts his cuff links. “Jason, always a pleasure to find you sneaking around my house.”

[boytearscore]

i dare you to try. — chris sturniolo.

summary: you finally decided to join a car video with the triplets after years of them trying to convince you to, but when the topic “who’s more stubborn, you or chris?” is brought up, things take a peculiar turn in which chris is sure he can be the first guy you beg for, so you dare him to try.

warnings: fem!dom, chris!dom, smut, teasing, foreplay, swearing, choking, orgasm denial, size kink, bdsm.

author’s note: this one is for my chris girlies, initially i wanted to make it oneshot, but i love to tease you guys so it will be divided in two short parts, the second one will be released tonight so don’t worry and just enjoy!

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝟷/𝟸)

everything started after you filmed a video with the sturniolo triplets, you’ve been friends with them for a while and after much pleading, you finally agreed to be a guest.

it was the talk nonsense and just hope it’s funny type of shit, so you didn’t freak out too much about it.

all went smoothly, you were having fun and laughing hard every five minutes, but then they changed the topic to who’s more stubborn, chris or you.

suddenly you both were arguing about it, leaving a nick and a matt almost dying from laughing.

“bro, you’re basically a child!” you point at chris’ face and roll your eyes. “remember when we all told you to NOT drink too many energy drinks, so you inhaled fucking four and almost died from a heart attack?”

nick nods and matt is just out of breath, staring at both of you. chris crosses his arms, preparing his comeback and squinting his eyes at you.

“why is this relevant?” he asks, raising a brow. “you’re the one who refuses to drink water because ‘it tastes bad’, you’re just dehydrated, dude! drink water, it’s not that hard.”

as the back and forth argument continued, nick just looks at the camera and says:

“point proved.” he laughs and then grabs his phone. “i wonder if one of you would actually admit you’re wrong one day.”

you two look at nick, and matt agrees. “yeah, besides being stubborn, you two are also too proud.”

“none of those things are true.” you yell at matt, but your voice is shaken from laughing so they all laugh too. “i just like to stand my ground, and this little boy right here wouldn’t convince me to do shit even if his life depended on it.”

chris was dumbfounded with so many insults, but what got to him was “little boy” and the fact that you underestimated him. he was indeed too proud, but he was very confident as well, and never really had to work hard to get what he wants when it comes to his needs, so that made him hungry for proving you wrong.

unfourtunately for him, you were just exactly the same, but worse.

he looks at nick, and then at the camera, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips.

“make sure to edit this part out of the video.” he says, and the three of you just stare at him with big question mark faces, then his eyes turned to you, he had a determined expression and that just made your curiosity grow bigger within every second.

“you can say all you want…” he starts, the smirk turning into an evil smile. “but i’m sure i can make you beg.”

there was silence, an exchange of looks between you four and then the loud noises of laughter.

“beg you to do what, chris?” you ask him. “the only thing i’d beg you to do is shut the fuck up.” you leaned against the car sit, since you both were next to each other, all he did was incline his face closer to you.

“to be submissive for the first time with a guy.” he whisper into your ear, making sure nick and matt hear it too. they both are in shock, amused and extremely invested and you… well, that did not surprised you, to be honest. you always tell the triplets about your love life, how you deal with guys and so did they. there was definitely similarities between you and chris. such as, never dating, never being clingy and most importantly, always being on the dominant side.

you grin at him with arms crossed, faces still close because he didn’t back off after saying it.

“i dare you to try.” you reply with a firm tone and he chuckles while nick and matt are losing it in the back seat.

“holy shit…” nick murmured with his hand over his mouth, eyes paying attention to every detail of your mannerism to see any kind of resistance or fear on you, but he got nothing.

“so...” you finally break the silence, checking your lipgloss in the rear mirror and then turning to chris. “what do i get if you fail?”

he thinks for a while and bite his lips, trying to think of something that wouldn’t risk his social life or reputation. he knew you and your thoughts, nothing too good would come out of your mouth if you choose.

“if i fail, which i won’t…” he begins and you give him an eye roll. “i’ll listen to every command of yours, not complaining or being stubborn, and the hardest part…” he says, sighing. he can’t believe he’s about to say that. “i’ll admit i’m wrong.”

you think for a moment, plotting the most unspeakable things inside your head. there’s no reason to not agree since you know you won’t lose.

“you got yourself a deal, little boy.” you tell him, shaking his hand.

“what the fuck?” matt yells and all of you laugh, continuing the video until later that night.

[sturnmeovr]

Mama - Chris Sturniolo

Part One - Positive Pairings - babydaddy!Chris x fem!Reader Summary - Chris attends your first ultrasound with you, and when you realize you have to have transvaginal, he’s there to comfort you. Warnings - established relationship, uncomfortable situation??, a lil fluff, first pregnancy appointment, mentions of pregnancy W/c - 1774 A/n - Serving more babydaddy!Chris content 🫡 I hope everyone likes it. This will be a series 🥰 (Also haven't proofread this all the way so forgive me for mistakes) Masterlist Current Series - City of Love II Top Liked - Pierced II Most Recent - Alright, I Love You

“Arrived,” Siri sounded through the speakers of your car as you pulled into the parking lot of your gynecologist's office. You and Chris were at your first appointment, you know, the one that confirms the pregnancy.

Swearing to secrecy until you got the first sonogram, neither of you had told anyone, not even family. It was hard keeping such a big secret from Matt and Nick, especially since you were at their house all the time, you practically lived there. It was even harder for Chris because he never kept anything from them. He wanted them to be surprised, but he was also more nervous than he had ever been, thinking they’d judge him. I mean, who wouldn’t? You and Chris had only been in a relationship for a little over six months, and six months seemed way too soon to bring a new life into this world. Your relationship being in the public eye was not something you planned this soon either - three months in, you and Chris were spotted out after dinner. A few fans stopped him to take pictures, you thought you did a good job at blending in the background, but you couldn’t be more wrong. The next morning, everyone knew who you were, forcing the two of you to ‘out’ your relationship a few days later. 

After finding a parking spot, you shift your car into park and let out a long sigh. Chris’s eyes shift to you, “it won’t be that bad.” He shoots you a goofy smile, trying to enlighten the mood. “I know,” you scrunch your face, “I’m just nervous.”

Nervous was in understatement. Your gut had been turning ever since you saw the positive pregnancy test, and your nausea didn’t decrease a bit. You watch as Chris brings his hand to yours and interlocks your fingers, bringing your hand up to his mouth to plant a soft kiss on it. Redness creeps to your cheeks and you press your lips together, he always knew how to ease your worries. You were lucky you could rely on him in vulnerable times like this.

“Its gonna be okay,” he tells you in a reassuring tone, “nothing to worry about,” before placing another peck on the back of your hand. Collecting your thoughts for a minute before exiting the car, you enter the building together, heading straight for the elevator. This was your regular gyno, so you knew exactly what floor to go to. You press the button for the fourth floor, watching it light up as your heart pumps at a rapid pace. Knowing you were about to see your baby for the first time gave you an indescribable feeling. You were nervous, excited, and shocked all at the same time. Life felt like a fever dream since you found out. 

Ding!

The elevator chimes, indicating you’re at your chosen floor. You and Chris approach the front desk with the same pace, slow and sluggish. Chris felt more out of place than you did but he told himself he was there to support you every step of the way. He knew bringing a baby into this world was going to be a life changing experience for the both of you, but he still had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact you were actually pregnant with his baby. He worried about so many things - telling his family, telling the world, if he'd be a good dad, if you'd be a good mom. And if he was being completely honest, he feared having a baby would put too much pressure on your relationship. That didn't stop him from stepping up and supporting you every step of the way, though.

Checking in and filling out papers, the nurse calls you back fairly quickly. The two of you get settled in a room, not saying a word to each other, only exchanging a few toothless smiles here and there. Before the nurse steps out she hands you a gown, “you’ll need to change into this before the doctor comes in.”

You quickly change into the hospital gown and sit back down in the bed, “I’m so scared,” you groan, running a hand through your hair. Chris had been rummaging through the cabinets since he entered the room, currently blowing up a glove like it was a balloon. 

“Nothing to be scared of mama,” he coos, taking the glove from his lips, and quickly tying it. Chris knew being a goofball was the quickest way to make you laugh, and as long as he kept you laughing, he knew you weren’t overthinking. You snort at him, “Mama?” making fun of the new nickname. He playfully knits his brows together, “what's wrong with that? I mean, I can call you my baby momma if you want,” he laughs, a smirk stretches across his lips before he flings the hand shaped balloon at you. 

“It’s not funny, Chris! They’re gonna stick something up my coochie,” you groan. He raises his eyebrows, obviously concerned. “Up your cooch-,” he blurts out before getting cut off by a light knock on the door. You quickly bat his glove balloon away and call out, “come in!”

Your gynecologist opens the door and pokes her head in, “Goodmorning!” She had a bright aura about her that made every room warm when she entered it, which was one of the reasons she was your doctor. You knew you were in good hands when it came to her. “So, I see you’re here to confirm your pregnancy,” she beams. Your eyes drift to Chris and back to her, nodding slightly and giving her a polite smile. 

She takes a seat on the stool next to your bed, “well, on your paperwork it says you were about five days late when you tested positive which means we’ll have to do a transvaginal ultrasound.” You watch as she picks up a wand-like probe, your eyes widening at the sight of it, “don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it seems. We only do this when women are early on in their pregnancies, to get a better image of the fetus. Once you're 10 weeks, you'll get the abdominal scan, which is on your belly,” she explains in a cool tone.

“So, she won’t have to do it again?” Chris chimes in, clearly worried for you. Your gyno looks over at him, “you're dad?” Chris nods his head almost immediately, making a smile pull at your lips. It was cute how concerned he was, and it was even cuter how quick he was to take on the role of daddy. “Well, dad, no she won’t have to do this again and it shouldn’t be painful, just a bit uncomfortable,” she reassures the both of you. Chris nods, “okay, good,” mumbling quietly before scooting his chair closer to the bed, "cause that thing look scary."

The doctor gets you prepped, putting your feet in stirrups, spreading lubricant across the device, and pressing a few buttons on the keyboard in front of her.

“Now, you’ll feel a little pressure. Just let me know if it's painful or not,” she tells you before inserting the probe into you slowly. Your face contorts in discomfort, Chris noticing quickly, taking your hand in his, and stroking it with his thumb. “Feeling okay?” the doctor asks from the most awkward position, in between your legs. “Definitely uncomfortable,” you tell her honestly, making her chuckle. “No pain, right?” she questions, making you shake your head, “no. No pain.”

Your response makes your boyfriend lean in to place a comforting kiss on your temple, “doing so good mama.” Chris had always been very attentive, showering you with random compliments, kisses, and gifts. Ever since he found out about your pregnancy, not only was he waiting on you hand and food, but he also became extremely clingy. Something about knowing you were growing a mini version of him made his feelings for you stronger, if he wasn’t in love before, he certainly was now. In his mind, your relationship was pretty fast paced for only being together for six months. Sex was given, but the two of you already shared the first ‘I love you’s, and were practically attached at the hip. He was your best friend and boyfriend all-in-one. Though, your fast paced relationship scared the absolute shit out of him, it wasn't going to make him walk out on you or his baby. 

The room falls to an awkward silence, only the sounds of the doctors tapping away at buttons on her monitor. "Sorry, just trying to get a good picture," she tells you. Your eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss the first appearance of your future child in the slightest. Anticipation boils in your stomach and your heart thumps furiously in your chest, knowing you're about to see the new growing being inside of you, the one that had been making you cry and throw up nonstop the last couple weeks. Looking up at Chris, his expression is the same, fixated on the screen. "There we go," the doctor chuckles, "you have a stubborn one. Every time I'd get close, they'd move." You watch as the image of your little, tiny bean pops up on the screen, the fast heartbeat sounding out of the speakers as she turns the volume up and zooms in. Suddenly, all the worries and questions running rampant through your mind disappeared for a moment, and it was the same for Chris.

The inexpressible feeling lays deep in your chest and tear brim your water line. "Awe," Chris coos, "he looks like lil peanut," his eyes filling with lust as he tears his eyes from the screen to look at you. His comment earns a giggle from you, the baby did look like a little peanut, but the fact he was already manifesting a baby boy made your heart flutter. You blink away the tears, and suck in a breath, "looks like you're measuring at a little over seven weeks. Seems pretty accurate to me since you dated your last period, but at your next appointment you'll get confirmation on how far along you are."

Chris nods, watching the doctor print out copies of the sonogram, "is there any way we can get extra copies?" She gets you situated, letting you fix yourself, "Of course, how many?" You watch as Chris holds up his fingers to count, "like ten. If that's okay."

"We don't need that many," you snort, sitting up in the bed. Chris playfully scoffs at you, "yes we do. Our baby is gonna be so loved."

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @thepubeburgler @loveparqdise @emely9274 (if anyone else wants on my tag list, just let me know!!)

If your tags aren't popping up, please make sure you have them turned on so you will get notified when I post. I don't want anyone to think I'm trying to be rude by not tagging when they asked ☹️

[misaamoure]

Backlash.

It was the consequence of overusing your evol.

Not everyone experienced it, but most powerful evolvers have.

And unlucky for you; your evol was quite strong.

You knew this. The Hunters Association knew this. Zayne knew especially well, as to the effects it had on your body.

But nobody knew exactly what your backlash was. People always tried to guess, but to no avail.

Heightened body temperature? No.

Extreme fatigue? No.

Madness, even? Well… not quite.

Your backlash was as unique and strong as you.

Many people faced minor symptoms thiat only impaired them for hours at most.

Yours lasted for at least a day. At most two.

Your backlash made you feel as though the most potent aphrodisiac had been dropped into your body.

It was… beyond embarrassing.

You preferred not to take more than a day off at a time, saving most of your vacation time for Zayne.

So you’d mastered the art of hiding it.

Or so you thought.

You find yourself laying in bed after your strange behavior post mission had been noticed by Tara.

After much poking and prodding at what was wrong with you, she alerted Jenna of your odd symptoms.

After a brief inspection, Jenna sent you home on sick leave and told you not to come in the next day either.

“What a pain,” you thought fleetingly. “I hope they don’t think I’m weird.”

You turn over on your side and groan.

It was like you were burning up. You felt hot and sticky… and there was this ache you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

Sure you could handle your arousal yourself, but that never satisfied you. For long, anyways.

Just as you were about to throw in the towel, a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts.

No… oh no…

It was 5PM on a Thursday… it could only be one person.

You hastily get out of bed, haphazardly throw on your glasses, and speed walk to your front door.

Standing on your tippy toes, you look out the peephole.

FUCK IT WAS ZAYNE

You quickly turn around and put your back against the door, leaning against it in your shock.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed a little too loud.

“I knew you were home,” his voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Let me in.”

“Uhhh no I’m not home. Leave a message okay bye-”

“Stop with your games and just open the door. Your coworkers contacted me and said you were sick. I just want to check on you.”

The concern in his deep, monotonous voice made your resolve crumble.

Exhaling before fixing your hair and pushing up your glasses, you open the door.

His piercing green eyes bore into yours, making your knees go a little weak.

He’s so handsome…

You shook those thoughts from your head.

It seems he came right from the hospital. He was still wearing his white button up, black slacks, and his glasses.

“Thanks for the concern, but really Zayne I’m fine.”

Ignoring your blatant lie, he gently put a hand on your forehead.

“You’re burning up,” he frowns. “Go back inside.”

Not particularly having the energy to argue, you trudge back to your room and flop down on your bed.

You had the impression that Zayne was right behind you, but it seemed like he had gone elsewhere in the house.

Moments later, he emerged from wherever the fuck he’d gone with a glass of water and two pills.

Zayne sat down on the edge of your bed and handed both items to you.

“Here, take these.”

You hastily do as he says, wanting to get him in and out as quick as possible while you were in this state.

It’s not that you didn’t want to see him; you didn’t want him to see you like this.

“Finished. You must be super busy so I don’t wanna keep you long. Why don’t you-”

“Aren’t you going to tell me what’s wrong first? I’m your primary care physician.”

Damn him and his… sweet and caring concern.

You heart swelled, but once again you groaned and turned away from him on your side.

You had two options right now.

Option one: be honest and tell him everything. He wouldn’t judge you… probably…

Option two: play into being sick and evade any and all questions until he left.

You turned your head to look back at him, and his concerned gaze looked back at you.

Zayne was your best friend. He wouldn’t do anything to harm you. Or say anything to hurt you.

He only ever wanted the best for you. And tried his best to take care of you and make you happy.

And you loved him. And you were pretty sure he loved you.

You decided to just be honest. He is your doctor after all… maybe he could help you.

“Zayne do you experience backlash symptoms after using your evol?”

He nods. “My body temperature drops dangerously low.”

You sighed. You fucking wish you had his backlash.

“Why? Are you experiencing backlash right now?”

Now it was your turn to nod.

“My backlash isn’t temperature irregularities or fatigue or nausea,” you turned over again. You didn’t wanna look him the eyes for this one. “It’s a little- well a lot different. Very different.”

There was a pause before Zayne’s response.

“Go on.” He tone seemed skeptical.

“It’s arousal.” You mumbled quickly, gripping the sheets and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pardon?” Zayne either didn’t hear you at all, or seemed not to hear you correctly.

“It’s…” you sighed again, tears brimming from the sheer embarrassment of your confession. “Arousal. My backlash is arousal. And I can’t control it.”

Another pause.

“I see.” He said solemnly. You felt him move on the bed, and assumed he was doing that stupid ass thing where he puts his hand on his chin.

His reaction, or lack thereof, was the nail in the coffin for you.

You started to snuffle as tears ran down your face.

Zayne was immediately startled by this.

“Are you crying?”

“No, you idiot.” You clearly weren’t a good liar. Why do you keep trying?

Zayne sighs before you feel him move once again, and suddenly he’s hugging you from behind.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” his voice took on a much softer tone now that he sees your upset. “There are many different types of backlashes. Some more extreme than others.”

You leaned in to his hug, finding comfort in his calm voice and cool body.

“I was so afraid you were going to judge me.” You looked over your shoulder at him, glasses clinking against each others.

“I would never.”

You both seemed relieved as you say in silence. Hugging each other as you calmed down.

As comforting as Zayne’s hold was, it was doing nothing for your backlash.

You shifted in his hold.

Alright, now you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Zayne, please,” you pleaded, looking back at him one again and peering up at him from the top of your glasses, “I can’t take it anymore.”

Another pause… a longer one this time.

Usually Zayne doesn’t take that long to think. He must really be plotting this time.

Suddenly, you feel his ice cold hands running all over your body.

You just barely stifled the moan that threatened to leave your lips.

“Zayne…” You whimper his name, and you heard his breathing pick up.

“Do you want my help?”

You felt like you just had cold water dumped all over you.

“W… what?” Surely he was fucking around.

“Do you want my help, Y/N?”

Him saying your name sent shivers down your spine.

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.” While his gaze once held concern, now held something else.

Something new in him you’d never seen before.

“Zayne… are you sure?” This time you fully turn around to face him.

This time he doesn’t respond. He just wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you on top of him.

You squeal as he positions you so that you’re straddling him.

And then… you feel it.

Your eyes widen and you look down.

His dick straining against his pants. Right under you.

It was deliciously hard against you, and you could feel the warmth through the layers you both have on.

“Does that answer your question?”

Now you really couldn’t hold back.

You quickly bent down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss.

It was nasty and sloppy. All tongue and lips… something you’d never expect from him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bring him to sit up with you.

Instinctively he grabbed your waist, dragging his hands down your back and ass as he fervently kissed you back.

Once again feeling his cold hands on you, you moaned freely at his touch.

Grabbing your hips, he pulled them forward, causing you to grind down on his erection.

This caused you to break the kiss with a pleasured sob.

“Oh my god, Zayne-!” He was hitting just the right spot.

This was enough motivation for him apparently, so he kept going.

Gripping his shoulders for dear life, you kept dragging your cunt against that one spot that sent waves through your body, as Zayne kissed down your neck.

It was all becoming too much… Zayne sucking that sweet spot on your neck and his cock grinding against your clit so deliciously.

“Wait,” you pushed him away weakly. “Zayne wait…”

He immediately halted his actions.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna cum like this,” you gripped his shoulders again as you looked away. “I wanna do… other things too.”

Zayne chuckles, something he rarely does, before leaning back to loosen his tie.

You shifted in his lap again at the sight, making his exhale sharply.

“What do you want to do?” He looks up at you, the ghost of a smile on his face.

Shit. You didn’t think you’d get this far.

“I… don’t know.” You bashfully admit. You don’t dare meet his gaze.

You feel him grip your chin and turn your head towards his and forces you to look into his eyes.

He made you so nervous.

“I can take the lead if you want. Just let me take care of you.” Zayne’s soft tone of voice almost puts you at ease.

But how could you truly relax when you were literally sitting on his hard dick?

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Okay,” you nod, finally looking right at him. “I trust you.”

Zayne smiles fully this time, before running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“That’s my girl.”

[just1cefor4ll]

A Light That Never Goes Out

Joost Klein x reader

summary: you and Joost are both competing in eurovision, you representing {your country} and Joost representing the Netherlands. When Joost gets disqualified you’re both devastated, but you decide to defend your dear partner once you get to the finals.

A/N: first joost klein fanfic, need your honest opinions :,) hope you enjoy tho💙 and dont be afraid to request something joost klein x reader, requests are currently open!

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Eurovision Song Contest

@Eurovision

We are currently investigating an incident involving the dutch artist. He will not be rehearsing until further notice.

Liked by joostsbeloved, eurovision.lover and 1,482,794 others

@joostswifeyy1 and 402K people commentsd

user210651: WHAT?? WTF HAPPENED

aikoswife: oo drama :0

lorelaixx: eurovision 2024 is so wild

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You looked at the post, shocked, disappointed.. angry? You didn’t know what emotions you were feeling but your first priority was currently Joost. The poor mans feelings and dreams were crushed, his cheerful and bright persona was now forced, and it was more dull than ever. You felt bad for your best friend, the one you started this whole journey with. You met wonderful people, made new memories, and all of it was now thrown away because Joost protected himself from unwanted media. It was unfair, it was quite literally pathetic how the EBU reacted. They shouldn’t be punishing Joost, yet here they were, not letting him rehearse. You walked to Joosts hotel room, things that you thought would cheer him up in hand. You knock softly on the door, loud enough so he could hear, waiting patiently outside the door.

Footsteps could be heard from behind the door a few seconds later the door got opened, revealing a very tired and not so happy looking Joost. He let you in, closing the door behind him as you set the stuff down. You walk over to him and open your arms for a hug, quickly getting tackled into a bear hug. “Mm..s’not fair..” He says, slurring his words as he started to sniffle softly. You pat his back, offering him some comforting words and assurances, trying to cheer him up as best as you could. “Shh.. It’s alright.. you don’t know how proud of you everyone is for coming this far.” He picks you up, walking to his bed and lays down with you, lying down on top of you. “I just failed everyone, I failed my people.” He says and you shush him, playing with his hair. “Hey! Listen to me now.” You say, lifting his head up so he would look at you. “You did not fail anyone. You have a whole community supporting you, so don’t you ever doubt yourself. You did nothing to harm someone, you’re a kind, lovely soul who people cherish.” You say, making him smile softly. He cupped your cheek and kissed you on the lips. It was short, but sweet making your stomach erupt with butterflies.

The next day felt grueling. You barely got up and got ready to go back to arena. You were excited to see all those familiar faces, but it felt forced since you now knew Joost wouldn’t be there by your side for all of it. You walked with Joost, hand in hand trying to talk about random topics like you usually did when you saw a hoard of fans. “We should get out of here.” You say, squeezing his hand. “Oh, but why?” He says, looking towards the crowd who was already standing in line to get in the Arena. Joost was always the social butterfly, you trying your best to not interact with crowds this big, not feeling safe since you didn’t really have a guard with you 24/7. You walk with him, letting him charm the crowd like usual all the fans going crazy. You took some pictures with the fans as well, signing things.. someone even asking you to draw a tattoo for them which you gladly did. Everyone was shouting things like ‘justice for Joost’ or ‘We love you Joost.’ Which warmed your heart knowing people support him, Joosts smile not going unnoticed by you. You walk with him inside the arena when some annoying interviewer had the nerve to comment about his disqualification, in a bad way. You had {your countries name} flag with you, which you used to cover him while you walked to the elevator. You mumble swears in your language, cussing the interviewer out like a mad person. Joost pulled you closer by the waist, planting a quick kiss to your forehead “Ik hou van jou.” (I love you)

After long exhausting hours, listening to the most talented people perform on stage, you go on after Bambie. An idea pops up in your head, smiling mischievously. Joost left already, watching from home since he thought it would be best if he wasn’t here when the incident was fresh. You walk on stage, about 20 or more people rapidly cleaning and getting the props and just everything ready for your performance. You waved at some fans and blew air kisses when the lights dimmed, which meant the cameras were now rolling and it was your time to shine. You pour your heart and passion for music out, the last words of the song slipping from your tongue and you finish it off with one last pose.

Everyone cheers for you, you suddenly take out the Netherlands flag, the words justice for Joost written in black paint on it. You wave it around and you hear cheering, of course some booing as well. You smile one last time before getting off stage, Bambie running up to you to give you a hug. Marina hugged you too, complimenting your performance before rushing on stage since it was her turn to go. “That’s gonna be everywhere babe, good luck.” Bambie says and you nod, joking about it with them. “Well shit, I don’t care if I get disqualified it needed to be said. I don’t even know how I managed to sneak that on stage haha.” You chat for a bit more before heading to a quieter place in the arena. You sat down on the floor, back against a wall as you open your messages to see Apson, and even Stuntje sending you videos. They knew about your little shenanigan and decided to record Joosts reaction.

They were all in Joosts hotel room, Joost cheerinf you on and singing along in your song. You chuckles softly as he mumbled some of the words since he didn’t really speak much of your language. When the song comes to an end he starts to cheer; “That’s my girl!” He screams, jumping up and down and clapping for you. “He’s definitely getting noise complaints.” You think to yourself, smiling at the screen. The TV shows you with the flag only for a few seconds since they tried to hide it as best as possible, but the ultimately failed since it was there for a good five seconds. Joost looked surprised, Apson cheering and Joost looks at him. “Wist u hiervan?” (did you know about this?) “Ja, Ja.” (yes, yes) He says and you see Apson smiling from Stuntjes point of view. The video gets cut off after a few more seconds, Joost visibly emotional so they most likely decided pointing a camera in his face wasn’t a good idea.

{‘My love’ in your language}

—————————————————————————

Y/N

Y/N

Y/N

Whatshaiaidhsjja

you’re literally crazy but i still love u

is everything okay?

did they do anything to u?

ik hou zo veel van je schat 💙

sent 11:09pm

I’m alright love, see u soon ❤️

read 7 minutes ago

—————————————————————————

You decided to watch the others perform, vibing with Bambie to songs and dance with them. After everyone finishes their song, you all go with your own team, the jury votes about to be announced. You blow an air kiss to Bambie and walk with your team, hyping everyone up. You didn’t expect to win, not after the stunt you pulled but you supported your friends to the very end. The final jury votes were given to Nemo by Sweden, you cheered for them since they really deserved the points. Their song was incredible and their vocals were angelic. You snap put of your thoughts, now the public would be able to vote. You would lie if you said you payed attention the whole time, zoning out almost every few minutes.

It was now between Croatia and Switzerland, your bet was on Nemo even though Croatia also did an amazing job. The atmosphere was tense, the silence being a bit more awkward than you liked, just hoping to get this all over with. You hear cheering, looking towards Nemo who looked like a beam of sunshine. You clapped, cheering your dear friend on and sing along to his performance.

It was done. Months of work and stress was finally over. You get a ride to your hotel with your team, scrolling through the hundreds of photos and videos from this wonderful experience. You saw a new place for the first time; Malmö which you were forever grateful for but you couldn’t wait to go back home to Amsterdam with Joost. Your movements were sluggish, your team laughing and joking about it. You chuckle along with them and wave goodbye to them as you all your separate ways to your hotel rooms. You on the other hand were walking to another room. You knock softly, the seconds feeling like hours when you don’t even register the door getting opened and get spinned around. You giggle like a 12 year old girl, Joost putting you down and kissing your soft lips. He closed the door behind him, walking with you to the bed slowly so you don’t fall since he refused to pull away from the kiss. He sits down with you and brings you into his lap. You finally pull away and he looks at you, love struck.

“When did you manage to get the flag you troublemaker?” He jokes and kisses your jaw, going down to your collar bone. “That my love, is a secret.” You say and he groans, lying down with you. “Doesn’t matter anymore.. You don’t know how much you made my day.” He says and peppers your face with kisses. You giggle softly, having to pull him away so he would stop. “Joost that tickles.” You say and he holds you tighter, burying his face in your hair. “You’re the light I needed in my life.”

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!! Do not copy or repost any of my posts on different platforms !!

[sencrose]

— 1004

pairing: yukimiya kenyu x f!reader

tags: established relationship, pwp, dry humping, cunnilingus, pet name (pretty girl), honestly the most vanilla thing i’ll ever write probably tbh

wc: 2.4k

summary: your boyfriend is adamant on showing just how much he loves you.

a/n: yeehaw first time writing for blue lock! vanilla and like... romance is not my usual thing so hope it's ok lol. dividers by @/adornedwithlight

ao3 link here

Everything’s great with your boyfriend.

For the most part.

He’s perfect on paper: kind, treats you well, adored by friends and family members alike. Never fails to bring a smile to your face whenever you see him. But that’s what makes it all the more frustrating when his hands grab your thighs with an ironclad grip, begging you to stop straddling him.

It’s not the first time this has happened, far from it. Maybe you were a bit foolish in knowingly dating someone so chaste, thinking you’d be able to convince him otherwise. But every time he rejects your advances, you can’t help but wonder why he’s still with you. Still, you heed his request, getting off him to take a seat next to him on the couch.

“Yukki…” you trail off, huddling into yourself as you find the words to say next, “do you like me?”

Kenyu’s eyes widen, his expression full of concern, as if you kicked a puppy right in front of him. “Huh? Where’s that coming from?”

“I mean…” you mumble, resting your face on top of your knees, “we never do anything more than kissing.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop. The ball in your throat grows, the words spilling from your mouth, like water from a dam that’s been compromised.

“I know you want to wait ‘til marriage but, sometimes it feels like you don’t like me when that’s all we do,” you pause, looking over at him when a twang of guilt strikes your chest before looking down again, “I-I mean we don’t have to go all the way or anything like that.”

“I-It’s nothing like that,” he sighs, pinching his temple before continuing, “I like you, a lot. You could even say that I love you.” The confession makes your skin run hot, even though you’ve heard it plenty of times before.

“It’s not that I don’t want to do it, I’m just scared.” Kenyu shifts again, attempting to face you before continuing, but the second his eyes meet yours, he looks away. “When you get on top of me like that…” Now it’s his turn to be flustered, his skin blooming a pretty shade of pink as he struggles to thread his words together. “I don’t think I can last long.”

You sit up properly, tilting your head quizzically. He has your full attention now. “Huh?”

“It feels crazy good,” Kenyu continues, struggling to meet your gaze, “good enough to make me… You know.” He stops himself short of the word, but you both know what he means. He won’t say it out loud because he won’t know what to do with himself. Though if you’re being honest, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself either.

The silence is deafening. It’s as if the room is waiting for a response. The realization strikes you like lightning, sudden and bright. It’s not that your boyfriend doesn’t like you, quite the opposite in fact. He might like you a little too much.

“Ah, but that’s kinda embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks sheepishly, breaking the silence first and brandishing a forced smile to hide his insecurity.

“Yukki,” you say before putting your hands on either side of his face before pressing, “look at me.”

“I’m looking,” he mumbles through his squished lips.

“I don’t mind. Actually…” you look off to the side even though you’re the one who forced this intimate display of eye contact, “I think it’s really hot.”

His eyebrows manage to shoot up in shock, even in this position. “You sure?”

“You think I’d lie to you?”

He chuckles, and you can hear the relief in his voice. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Then will you let me do the honors?” you ask, looking up at him doe-eyed and fluttering your lashes.

“S-Sure. But can we take it slow?”

“Whatever you want, Yukki,” you say softly, voice honeyed with affection as you get on top of him again. Kenyu shifts, his hands wrapping around your thighs softer this time.

It’s as if something’s shifted. You’ve kissed each other plenty of times before, but now that the intention to go further lies in the air, it’s like your first time again. Awkward, flustered, apologetic as you try to kiss him and accidentally bump foreheads together.

Kenyu laughs, because no matter what you do, he always finds you adorable. He decides to take his hands off your thighs and place them on the back of your head, gently bringing you in for a kiss that puts romance movies to shame. He’s in no rush, savoring the taste of you on his lips as he always does.

Kenyu always knows how to bring you back to Earth. He cherishes you–holds and kisses you like you’re the most delicate piece of china in a glass cabinet. And while this is nice enough on its own, you have other things you’ve been wanting to try. You keep his preferences in mind, taking it slow with a lazy roll of your hips. Even with that, you can hear his voice catching in his throat.

You use the opportunity to take it a bit further and slip your tongue in, which he welcomes. Every time you take it a bit further–whether it’s biting his lip or playing with his tongue–his self control chips a little more, whispered moans filling your mouth.

With every kiss, every roll of your hips, you can feel his length growing, getting hotter even when it’s confined by the fabric of his pants. It makes you want to work just a little harder, get yourself a little closer to cumming with him. The fabric is frustrating, an annoying reminder of just how close yet far you are from him. Though, that frustration starts to melt when Kenyu follows the rhythm of your hips.

It’s getting harder to keep your promise when he’s this cute. When you wrap your arms around his neck, you can feel just how hot and bothered he is, as if his soft whimpers weren’t enough of a testament already. What was once a soft grasp behind your head grows into something more primal and unrefined, desperation running through his fingertips as he grabs whatever he can to bring you closer to him.

You’re not any better, the speed of your hips picking up, desperate to hear him so needy. It’s the first time you’ve heard him like this.

As you lose your control and composure, your hips grind against him harder. Kenyu can’t keep his voice back any longer, desperate groans leaving his mouth with a quiver of his lips. Every sound he gives you goes straight to your pussy, making you warm and greedy for more.

You can feel the wet spot on your panties grow as you rub against him and wonder if he can feel it too. It might be pushing it, but the thought of freeing his cock shoots through your head. It feels and looks so tight against the fabric, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Yukki,” you pause and give a glance at his zipper, “can I?”

“I thought we weren’t going all the way,” he replies, breathless as he looks up at you.

“We aren’t… I just wanna feel you more,” you say meekly, “that’s ok, right?”

His eyes widen like saucers before nodding. “Y-Yeah, go for it.”

So you do, unzipping his pants like you’re unwrapping a present—it might as well be one. You adjust and place yourself right on top and start again, though the sensation is much better this time around for both of you. You see it in the way Yuuki immediately throws his head back and moans, feel it in the way your cunt slides against his heat with only two layers of thin fabric keeping you apart.

All of it’s just too much for you–the pre that’s smeared on his boxers, the warmth of his cock against your clothed folds. It’s the closest you’ve been to him, to going all the way. Everything about it makes you more desperate to see him cum, so you focus all your attention on his leaky tip, just to see how sticky you can make it.

The sight of you proves to be too much for Kenyu, as he brings up his arm to shield his eyes. You’re quick to move it out of the way, a silent plea for him to look at you, look at where you’re nearly connected.

“Getting close?” you ask, sweet as sugar. Just the sound of your voice is enough to send him over the edge, but he wants to hold out, even if it’s just for a moment longer.

“You gotta look at me when you cum,” you plead.

Kenyu bites his lip and groans before shakily nodding.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bring your face closer to his until you’re touching forehead to forehead–close enough to feel every pant, every tremor of his voice.

“You love me?” you moan, digging your hips into him deeper.

“God, I love you so much,” he moans back, eyes lined with tears that are one blink from falling.

Kenyu’s desperately rutting his hips into you, and you swear you can feel him prodding at your entrance.

You feel it when Kenyu cums with a gravelly groan, his chest rattling as he cries. Even more so when you keep humping him, as his boxers get stickier and mix with your slick.

“W-Wait, too much,” he gasps, muscles visibly tightening in his neck as he throws his head back.

You can’t take your eyes off of the point where your undergarments meet, fabric soaked and darkened from the fluids.

“You really love me, huh?” you ask with a smile.

“Of course,” he sighs contentedly before giving you a soft peck on the cheek. It makes it all too easy to snuggle into him and lie your head on his chest. Before you can get too comfortable, Kenyu shifts his body and you’re suddenly far too aware of the sticky patch touching your underwear.

“Um… Should we clean up?” you ask, preparing yourself to dismount before Kenyu shifts his weight to push you back down on the couch, his hands around your wrists. Determination lights a fire in his eyes.

“You gotta let me return the favor.”

“H-Huh?”

“Let you…” he glances down at the wet spot of your panties before looking back at you, “you know?”

Oh.

“N-No, this is enough for me Yukki, I don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“But I do want this,” he assures you before kissing your cheek, his hands carefully tracing the curve of your hips, “I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”

“I mean,” you pause, shuffling a bit and adjusting your gaze away from him, “if you’re okay with it.”

That’s all the approval he needs to kiss you, drawing a trail down your body.

Kenyu’s careful and meticulous, savoring every press of his lips against your skin. Whether it’s your neck, chest, waist, he lingers as if he doesn’t want to leave it behind. Every opened mouth kiss, flick of his tongue filled with adoration.

Whatever ritual he has going on, it doesn’t fail to make you shiver in anticipation, have butterflies blooming in your stomach. It makes you shy, being so exposed in front of him. In a way, it’s a little nostalgic—reminds you of the first time he dropped you off at your apartment and said his goodbyes with a kiss.

But then you’re brought back to the moment when Kenyu adjusts and shifts you to lie down on your back. His hands are there every step of the way, a silent plea to let him take care of everything.

He takes his time with you, slowly kissing a path up your leg. With each kiss, he lingers a moment longer. A playful bite here, a hint of tongue there. It keeps you on edge, just a little. Every hushed gasp or squeal earns a huff and a smile out of him.

“My pretty girl,” he sighs, adoration laced in his breath.

Carefully, he tests the waters with a delicate kiss before going in with a drag of his tongue as soon as a moan slips from your lips. From there, he uses his tongue with a determination you usually only see on the field from afar, like he’s trying to tear a hole in your underwear. The cotton gets wetter with every stroke of his tongue, sticky fabric clinging to your lips.

With his enthusiasm, it’s as if the underwear isn’t even there. All you can feel is Kenyu’s tongue, hot and heavy, incessantly drawing circles around your clit. It’s too much, looking down and seeing his head disappear under the fabric of your skirt. When you instinctively shut your legs out of embarrassment, his hands hook around your thighs and bring you closer. It brings a newly lit passion out of him, has him pressing his face even harder into your pussy.

The noises he makes while sucking on the fabric is too much for your ears, too much for a first time. It’s messy, unrefined, and nothing you would expect from your prim and proper boyfriend. Something about seeing him like this, so desperate and eager to serve, only adds to your arousal.

Despite how laser focused he is on your clit, on making you reach the apex of pleasure, he brings his hand to yours, your fingers intertwining. His thumb rubs circles into your skin, something he always does to comfort you. Maybe he feels it coming before you, with the way your breathing intensifies, the way your moans get louder and all the more cuter.

“You love me too, don’t you?” he asks, hushed and panting.

“L-Love you so, mmh, much Kenyu,” you cry back, biting your lip.

“Wanna show me how much?” he asks before going back into you, passion woven in each stroke of his tongue.

“Yes, yes, yes-” you cry before your climax finally hits you like a wave. Even though you barely recognize the sounds pouring from your lips, you wonder if Yuuki does. All stuttered moans and hushed pants as he guides you through it. His pace starts to slow as you come down from your high, before sealing it with a kiss on your clit.

“Next time you think I don’t love you,” he pauses to meet you face to face before pressing his lips onto yours, “I hope you’ll remember this.”

[beesspacedotorg]

bee what about calling chan daddy for the first time??

hihi. uhm. putting warnings is too hard. i hope u enjoy ems <3

warnings: oral (m rec), daddy king (duh), uh. tbh there probably should've been more discussion about what's going on here before it happened but there wasn't gender neutral reader as usual

You’ve been fussing at him all day. To be honest, you’re not even sure why, you’ve just been having a bad time and Chan managed to be in the right place at the wrong time and now he’s contracted your ire. It’s unfair to him, and a part of you knows this, but a larger part of  you is pissed off that he’s breathing so fucking loud, so you’ll just apologize later.

“Baby, are you planning on doing the dishes today or-”

“God, can you shut up?!” There’s a moment where you both stare at each other in shock. You don’t yell at each other. Chan raised his voice at you once before and you cried so hard you almost threw up, and after that you both agreed the two of you wouldn’t let it get to that point ever again. You don’t yell at each other, and yet, your voice has raised to dangerous decibels because your boyfriend asked you about the dishes.

“Okay, what is your problem?”

“Problem? I don’t have a problem.” That is not what was supposed to come out of your mouth. You know it, and Chan especially knows it, because he raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Are you sure? Because you just yelled at me.”

“I didn’t yell.”

“Then what do you call that? Speaking with purpose?”

“Yes. Speaking with purpose. You’re also doing the exact opposite of what I told you to do anyway.” Chan brings his hands to his head to rub his temples, and for a second you think you’ve gone a step too far. You’re ready to apologize to him, to inform him that somewhere between the dishes and now your anger has been replaced with a weird eagerness for him and that maybe you should’ve apologized for yelling at him before starting to play a horny game, but he takes a step towards you before you can open your mouth.

“You have two seconds to apologize to me.” Chan’s voice is tense, a voice you’ve heard people describe as his “leader voice.” You would describe it as something else, but you’re not that brave, so you haven’t yet.

You stare at him instead of apologizing, blinking once and then twice at him. You watch as he clenches his jaw and see the tick of his muscle in real time.

“Okay. Fine.” Oh, you’re fucked. Literally. He grabs your arm and bodily hauls you off the couch. You knew what he was going to do, and you go along with it, so luckily he doesn’t chuck you across the living room.

“Chan.” He keeps dragging you towards your bedroom. “Chan.” You’re pretty sure he’s not listening on purpose. “Christopher.”

“God,” he starts, and you know how his sentence is going to finish before it’s fully out of his mouth, “can you just shut up?” Hearing your own words parroted back at you makes you frown.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why not? That’s how you were talking to me earlier.” You roll your eyes at him and open your mouth to respond and then he’s kissing you well enough that you don’t care anymore.

“Baby, I wasn’t kidding. That mouth has gotten you in enough trouble, why don’t you just keep it shut, hmm?” You frown at him again, brows furrowing and he pushes you onto your knees and sits on the bed. You stare up at him from your spot on the floor, lips still downturned and then he’s fishing his cock out of his shorts and yanking you towards him by your hair.

“Hey! Let go!” You reach up and dig your nails into his wrist and he grunts at you.

“What is your problem today?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Sure.” He brings your face closer to his dick. “Suck.” You shut your mouth with a click of your teeth and when you look up at him you can see that he’s thrown his head back in exasperation.

“Jesus, why are you being like this?” You cross your arms over your chest and you hear him sigh. His hand untangles itself from your hair to press at the hinge of your jaw, forcing it open until he can slip fingers inside your mouth and open you up for himself.

“Ow-” Your muffled protest is cut off by the heft and weight of Chan’s cock being shoved into your mouth. You aren’t insane enough to bite him, but you are insane enough to not move. You’re unsure why, but there’s something in you that wants to push him and see what he’ll do, see just how far you can annoy your sweet, lovely Channie until he becomes something else entirely.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” You can’t help the way your lip twitches into a smirk from where it’s wrapped around the girth of Chan’s dick, can’t help the way it takes you a second to school your expression into something bored and uninterested. Chan sees it though, because of course he does. Sees the way your eyes widened for a second when you got caught before flattening out. You hear him huff a laugh, finally catching on, before he’s dragging one of your hands to rest on his thigh and taking your head between his palms.

“Fine.”

He starts a rough pace right off the bat. Doesn’t give you any time to adjust before his cockhead is ramming cruelly against the back of your throat. You gag, drool bubbling past your lips, down your chin, dripping onto the floor. Your hand lifts off his thigh for a moment, taken aback, and his pace slows. He pulls halfway out of your mouth and then you put your hand back on his leg like nothing happened and he’s back to using his cock as a battering ram to your throat.

“Kept mouthing off,” he grunts, slightly out of breath. “You and I both know that this is all your little mouth is good for.”

He keeps on like that until you’re crying, until tears are slipping down your cheeks and your nose is running a little. Uses you as nothing more than a fleshlight until your eyes are red rimmed and your knees are sore. He pulls out and tilts your head back to look into your eyes. Your head is swimming from the lack of oxygen and your vision is blurry from tears and something else. He looks at your face and down at the floor and his cock twitches.

“Made a mess,” he scoffs, derisive. “Are you done?” You whine at him, you have no idea what he’s asking anymore. He shakes your head a little.

“Brat. I asked you a question.”

“Channie- daddy.” Your voice is hoarse and wobbly, your hands are grabbing at his thighs and you're leaning your weight into him. You hear him inhale sharply and suddenly the hands on your head shift from a grab to a cradle.

“Oh, baby.” He hauls you up into his lap. “Look at me.” You do, whatever Chan finds in your face makes him soft.

“Was that all you needed, sweetheart? Was for daddy to set you straight.” You nod at him and he coos.

“Daddy’s not done yet, baby.” You whine. He laughs. “You gave me a hard time there, honey. A bit of face fucking isn’t gonna make that up to me, you know that.”

You do know that. It isn’t gonna stop your pout though. Chan sees your face and laughs.

“Lay on your back,” he says. “Maybe if you apologize well enough, I’ll give you a reward after.”

[willowsnook]

back to you

hi! can I request angst with a happy ending for Oscar please? Maybe exes to lovers?

Oscar piastri x ex!reader

—--------------------------------------

Three years ago

“So this is really it?” You asked Oscar, your confusion morphing into shock. “But I thought we were so good together?”

Oscar sighed, his arms crossed as he stood in your dorm. “We are good together, but I’m going to be traveling more in F2 and as a reserve driver, so it doesn’t really make sense to continue this.”

“Doesn’t make sense?” Your anger was rising now, threatening to boil over. “We’ve been together for two years, jackass. Does that mean nothing to you? Do you even care about me?”

“Of course, I care about yo,u y/n,” he said, his eyes softening. “But this is my career; I need to put it first.”

“Get the fuck out,” you snapped, and he flinched in surprise, a flash of hurt in his eyes. “Lose my number. I hope you make it to F1 and get everything you ever dreamed of, but I hope you have it all alone.”

That was the last thing you ever said to him, and you didn’t regret it one bit. You met him your first year in college in London and were a perfect match. His dry-humored personality complemented your sassy attitude, and you both had a lot of fun together. If you were being honest with yourself, it was never super serious between you and Oscar. It was nice and fun, maybe a little toxic, but the way he ended it with such nonchalance is why it still irritated you even three years later.

—-----present day—----------

You had hoped that when you accepted the job with McLaren, you and Oscar’s paths wouldn’t cross. After graduating with a marketing degree, you took a position with their partnerships team, meaning your primary responsibilities would be representing McLaren to their sponsors and helping coordinate events. Generally, the events did not involve the drivers, but with it being three weeks in between races, they were expected to attend a small, exclusive happy hour in London. And, of course, you were the lead for the event.

You were wearing a nice pair of brown plaid trousers paired with a sleeveless, high-neck black turtle neck and hair pulled up in a tight bun. You’d done this a million times before, so you weren’t necessarily nervous, but the thought of interacting with Oscar again made you physically ill.

The boys arrived at the venue together, both dressed in their own versions of business professional, and headed to where you were standing with your boss. 

“Hi guys,” she said. “I have to go, but y/n is in charge, so she’ll give you the run-down.” 

The boys nodded as she left before turning to you. Oscar’s mouth opened slightly as he looked at you in surprise. 

“Hey, y/n, I’m Lando,” Lando greeted you with a bright smile. “And this is Oscar.” 

You returned his smile widely. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Oscar snorted at your response, and your eyes flashed. Lando looked over at him in confusion. 

“Are you really going to act like you don’t know who I am?”

Lando, misreading his comment for being a stuck-up celebrity quip, started apologizing for his teammate’s behavior. 

“I’m sorry, have we met?” You asked, feigning being puzzled and effectively getting under Oscar’s skin. 

“Don’t act like I haven’t had my hands on every inch of your body,” Oscar snapped, eyes narrowed, and Lando’s eyes widened in shock. Your eyes narrowed, and you squared your shoulders at him. 

“If I could burn off my top layer of skin to be pure from you, I would,” you said coldly. “How’s life anyway? Lonely at the top?”

He flinched at your words, and you knew you hit a nerve. In an interview from last year, you'd read that he was struggling with being lonely after joining F1, so you knew that would remind him of your parting words. 

Oscar’s jaw tightened, and his eyes flickered with something that looked like hurt before he masked it with indifference. “Life’s great, thanks for asking. It’s everything I worked for.”

“Everything you worked for?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Yeah, I bet it’s super fulfilling to win races and go back to an empty hotel room. Sounds amazing.”

Oscar’s lips parted, clearly taken aback by your jab, but he recovered quickly. “At least I have something to show for my sacrifices. What about you? Working events for McLaren? Sounds like a step down for someone convinced they would end up in New York, working for a top agency.”

It was your turn to flinch; that had been your dream ever since you were a kid, and you were still reeling from the failure of it not happening. But you had one last card to play against him, one you didn’t even want to. 

Lando, who had been awkwardly watching the exchange like a spectator at a tennis match, raised his hands in a desperate attempt to intervene. “Okay, guys, maybe we save this for another time? Or never? Never works too.”

“It is a step-down,” you said icily. “But a lot of dreams died after my dad did.”

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over Oscar, the way he stiffened at your words. You knew it was shitty, throwing your dad’s death in his face, but he pushed you too far, and the wound was still fresh. 

“Y/n.. I-I didn’t…,” he stuttered, but you raised a hand to cut him off.

“The happy hour is starting now,” you said, trying to regain your composure. “There are only five different companies, so it shouldn’t be too overwhelming. Be nice, be optimistic about the rest of the season, and ask questions about them as well. Find me if you need me.”

With that, you turned on your heel and marched into the venue. Lando and Oscar stood in silence, watching you disappear. Lando was still shocked at how Oscar acted, having never seen his teammate lose his temper like that. 

“So you two dated or something?” He asked cautiously and Oscar shot him an annoyed look. 

“Unfortunately,” he replied shortly. 

“I’ve never seen you so worked up from someone,” Lando commented. 

“She still knows just how to get under my skin,” Oscar muttered before walking in. 

You did what you did best during the event, schmoozing your heart out. It was fun for you, and by the end of the even,t you had forgotten the interaction with Oscar at the beginning. After cleanup, you went into the bar's main area, sitting down to order a martini. 

“Mind if I join you?” A voice asked, and you turned to see Lando standing next to the chair by you. 

“Sure,” you replied. “Have fun tonight?”

“These aren’t my favorite kind of things if I’m being honest,” he admitted, and you nodded. “Our sponsors always treat me like I’m some kind of god when I’m really just, well, me.” 

“I could see that,” you said. “Thanks for doing a good job, though; you make my job easy.” 

“You make it easy for us,” he replied, and you blushed at the compliment. 

He fiddled with his drink as you both sat silently for a bit, and you sighed, knowing what he wanted to ask. 

“Out with it, Norris. I know you want to ask about it earlier,” you said teasingly. 

He blushed before meeting your eyes. “I’ve just never seen him like that. He’s always so well put together and almost polished.” 

“We bring out the worst in each other,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips. 

“But you used to bring out the best?” He offered. 

“Something like that,” you muttered. 

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Lando said, and you felt a wave of sadness wash over you.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I shouldn’t have said it like that to him; I’m not usually that mean.”

“You were both emotional seeing each other,” Lando said warmly. “I won’t hold it against you.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. “It’s a lot of old feelings resurfacing.”

You gave him a forced smile, and he studied you until you finished your drink. 

“Well, it was good to meet you,” you told him, standing up and slinging on your coat. 

“You too,” he said. “I hope to see more of you.” 

—---------------------------------

A couple of months later, you were cursing Lando for saying that. You had been promoted, and with the new job came new responsibilities, such as managing the sponsors at races. Stepping into the paddock early that Sunday morning, you were greeted by Land,o who had arrived at the same time. 

“Y/n!” He said cheerfully. “Congrats on the promotion.”

“Thanks, Lando,” you sai,d smiling, falling into step with him as you both headed towards the garage. Oscar was already there, talking to another driver you recognized as Franco Colapinto. 

“Hey Franco,” Lando called out. “Have you met y/n?”

Franco turned at the sound of Lando’s voice, flashing a charming smile as his gaze landed on you. “I haven’t had the pleasure,” he said smoothly, extending a hand. “Franco Colapinto.”

You shook his hand, offering a polite smile. “Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Franco said, holding your hand a beat longer than necessary. “I don’t know how I missed meeting someone like you before now. McLaren’s lucky to have you.”

Oscar’s jaw visibly tightened from his spot nearby, and he took a step closer, crossing his arms as he observed the scene.

You tilted your head slightly, playing along with Franco’s flirtatious tone just enough to annoy Oscar. “I’m just doing my job, but thanks.”

“Doing it exceptionally well, I’m sure,” Franco replied with a grin. “If you ever get bored working with these guys, let me know. I’m sure my team could use someone with your... expertise.”

Lando let out a low whistle, clearly amused by the unfolding drama. “Careful, Franco. You’re laying it on thick.”

“I’m just being honest,” Franco said with an unapologetic shrug, his eyes never leaving yours.

Oscar finally decided to intervene, his voice cutting through the conversation like a blade. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your race prep, Franco? Or is flirting your new warm-up routine?”

Franco glanced at Oscar, raising an eyebrow. “Relax, mate. Just being friendly.”

Oscar’s glare hardened. “She doesn’t need your ‘friendly.’ She’s here to work, not entertain your distractions.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooting Oscar a sharp look. “I can handle myself, thanks. No need to play bodyguard.”

Franco smirked, clearly enjoying the tension. “Seems like someone’s a little territorial.”

Oscar’s nostrils flared as he took a step closer, his tone laced with irritation. “I’m not territorial. I just don’t think she needs you wasting her time.”

“Oh, but she’s fine with you wasting her time?” Franco shot back, clearly relishing in provoking Oscar.

“Okay,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. “This is officially ridiculous. Franco, it was nice meeting you. Lando, I’ll see you later.”

You turned on your heel and walked further in the McLaren garage, leaving all three men staring after you—Franco amused, Lando bewildered, and Oscar frustrated. The latter’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, a storm brewing in his eyes as he watched you disappear into the distance. Franco bid both men goodbye, and Lando turned to Oscar with an amused look on his face. 

“Gonna tell me what that was about?” He teased, and Oscar shot him the finger, moving towards his side of the garage. 

After the race, you lingered around hospitality, saying your final goodbyes to sponsored guests before gathering your stuff to head back to the hotel. You just came out of the room when you ran, face first into Oscar. His hands came out to steady you, and you were about to thank him until you realized who it was. 

“Excuse me,” you mumbled, trying to get past him, but his grip on your waist tightened. 

“Can we talk?” He aske,d and you were caught off guard.

“About what?” You asked. “How you were about to rip Franco’s head off this morning for talking to me?”

He rolled his eyes, his calm demeanor fading away. 

"I wasn't going to rip his head off," Oscar muttered, releasing his grip on your waist but not stepping back. "I just didn't like how he was talking to you."

You crossed your arms, eyebrow raised. "And how exactly was he talking to me?"

"Like you were some prize to be won," Oscar said, frustration evident in his voice. "Like you were just there for his entertainment."

"As opposed to how you talk to me?" You shot back. "Like I'm some nuisance you have to deal with?"

Oscar's eyes widened slightly, a flash of hurt crossing his features before he masked it. "That's not... I don't think of you like that."

"Could've fooled me," you said, your voice softer now. "Look, Oscar, we don't have to do this. We can just be professional and cordial. No need to rehash old drama.” 

“If that’s what you want,” he said slowly, and you nodded, shifting to move past him. 

“It is, I’ll see you later.” 

—------------------------------------------------

Brazil

You hated the rain. Well, you didn’t always hate it, but it had rained the day your dad died, so you had hated it ever since. It was the world weepin,g and the memory of you doing the same was still fresh. 

“Are you okay?” Lando asked, catching you staring off in the distance at the front of the garage. It was an hour before qualifying was supposed to happen, and you felt yourself start to slip out of reality. You didn’t say anything, so Lando moved closer, pulling your shoulder so you could face him. His eyes widened, seeing yours full of tears, but you were quick to turn back away. 

“I’m fine,” you said firmly. He started to say something again, but the look you gave him felt like a shot to the heart; you looked so sad, and he didn’t know what to do. You only repeated yourself, “I’m fine.” 

You weren’t fine. You knew you were starting to spiral. The first time it happened, it surprised you. You didn’t consider yourself an emotional person, but something about the rain now made you panic. 

Lando left you and headed straight towards Oscar’s driver's room. Someone on the way told him that qualifying had been pushed to tomorrow, but he didn’t stop his stride. Banging open the door, Oscar looked up, surprised at his teammate’s panic. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“Something is wrong with y/n,” he said breathlessly. Oscar’s brows furrowed. 

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I noticed her earlier, just standing and staring out at the rain on the track for literally 15 minutes,” Lando said. “Didn’t move an inch. I went up to her and could tell she was very close to losing it.”

“Did she say anything?” Oscar asked, already standing up and heading towards the door. Despite their current relationship, he knew you very well. He could count the number of times he had seen you cry on one hand. 

Lando shook his head. "No, she just kept saying she was fine, but her eyes... Oscar, I've never seen someone look so sad."

Oscar's jaw clenched as he strode out of the room, Lando hurrying to keep up. They made their way through the garage, scanning for you. Oscar spotted you first, still standing motionless at the front of the garage, staring out at the rain-soaked track.

He approached you cautiously, coming to stand beside you. "Y/n?" he said softly.

You didn't respond, didn't even blink. Oscar glanced back at Lando, who gave him an encouraging nod.

"Y/n, can you hear me?" Oscar tried again, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

The touch seemed to snap you out of your trance. You flinched, turning to look at him, and the second your eyes met his, you crumpled. He quickly pulled you into his arms as you sobbed, his arm rubbing your back. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, falling back to your old pet name. “I’m here.” 

You gripped his shirt tightly, trying to calm down, and your sobs soon turned to hiccups. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble,d trying to pull away but Oscar didn’t let you, keeping you tight against his body. You rested your cheek against his chest as his hand came up to your head, tangled in your hair. Oscar nodded to Lando to tell him that it was okay and Lando disappeared, leaving the two of you alone. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked. 

“No,” you whispered. “Can we go back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” he said, finally letting you go. He collected your stuff and gripped your hand tightly, leading you to where he had a car waiting. The traffic was insane outside the track; the number of people leaving and the weather was a bad mix. The sound of the rain against the windows made your heart start to race again, so without a second thought, you unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled into Oscar’s lap. 

His arms wrapped around you as you snuggled into the crook of his neck. Neither of you said anything for the rest of the ride, and you had calmed down by the time the car pulled up to the hotel. Sliding off his lap, you got out of the car and headed into the hotel, him right behind you. He didn’t want to overstep, but he did not want to leave you alone, so he lingered awkwardly beside you in the elevator. 

“Are you on the same floor as me?” You asked, noticing he hadn’t hit another number. 

“No,” he said, and you nodded, silently giving him the green light. 

You felt like a shell of yourself when you made it to your room, peeling off your wet outer layers while Oscar kicked off his shoes. 

“Let me draw you a bath,” he offered, and you didn’t answer, but he was already moving into the bathroom and turning on the water. 

You stared out the window, shivering, and that’s where he found you minutes later. 

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, gently pulling you towards the bathroom. You followed him wordlessly and let him help remove your clothes, not flinching under his gaze. He’d seen it all before anyway. You stepped into the bath, and he sat next to the tub, watching you as you closed your eyes and leaned back. 

“It was raining when he died,” you said, breaking the silence. “Now, anytime I hear the noise, it’s all I can think about.” 

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he murmured from beside you. 

You took a deep breath, the warm water soothing your nerves. "It was just over a year ago. He was driving home from work, and... a drunk driver hit him. It was pouring rain that day."

Oscar's hand found yours, gripping it gently. "I'm so sorry, y/n. I had no idea."

"How could you?" you said, a sad smile on your face. "We weren't exactly on speaking terms."

A flash of regret crossed Oscar's features. "I should have been there for you."

You shook your head. "It's not your fault. We both said things we didn't mean."

Oscar was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. 

“You got your wish, though,” he admitted softly and you looked over at him, confusion in your eyes. 

“About what?”

“I got everything I always dreamed of,” he started. “But I’ve had no one to share it with.” 

“You have Lando and Alex,” you said softly, and he gave you a small smile. 

“It’s not the same,” he said. “Are you ready?” 

He didn’t give you a chance to answer, standing up to grab a towel from nearby. You stood up, letting him wrap it around you and helping you step out of the tub. 

Oscar’s hands lingered at your shoulders as he steadied you, the towel snug around your body. His eyes searched yours, a mixture of guilt and longing in their depths. You could tell he wanted to say something else but hesitated, unsure if this was the right moment.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“For being here,” you replied, your hand brushing against his as you tightened the towel around yourself. “I didn’t know how much I needed it.”

Oscar let out a small, relieved laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have to thank me, y/n. I’ll always be here. Even if I don’t always know how to show it.”

You nodded, the warmth of his words spreading through you like the bathwater had. It was the first time in a long while you felt truly seen.

“Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward the bedroom. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

He helped you into one of his oversized hoodies, the fabric soft and smelling faintly of him. It felt like a hug, like safety. You settled onto the bed, pulling your knees up to your chest as Oscar perched at the edge, watching you closely.

“Can I stay tonight?” he asked tentatively, his voice careful, like he didn’t want to overstep.

You nodded without hesitation. “Please.”

He moved to the other side of the bed, slipping off his shirt and grabbing the blanket to drape over both of you. The rain was still falling outside, but the sound didn’t feel as suffocating with Oscar beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, and you let yourself lean into him.

As you lay there, Oscar's arm around you, the steady rhythm of his breathing began to lull you into a sense of calm. The rain outside seemed less threatening now, more of a gentle backdrop to the quiet moment you were sharing.

"I've missed this," you whispered, barely audible. "Being close to you like this."

Oscar's arm tightened slightly around you. "Me too," he admitted softly. "More than I realized."

You turned in his embrace to face him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room. There was so much left unsaid between you, years of hurt and misunderstanding, but in this moment, none of that seemed to matter.

"Oscar," you started, your voice trembling slightly. "I'm sorry for what I said that day. About hoping you'd be alone. I didn't mean it."

He shook his head, his hand coming up to your cheek. 

“I deserved it,” he said. “I was so caught up in the excitement that I didn’t consider your feelings. I was miserable that first year without you, more than I’d like to admit. This world can be so lonely, but I had too much pride to come crawling back to you.” 

“I wouldn’t have taken you back anyways,” you said honestly. 

“Would you now?” He asked quietly. “Take me back?” 

You looked at him, his eyes looking deep into your own, and thought about it. 

“Maybe,” you said finally. “But you’d have to work for it.”

“Trust me, I will,” he said, pressing his lips against your forehead. 

He didn't feel alone for the first time in what felt like forever. And as you closed your eyes, exhaustion finally catching up with you, you realized that maybe people were right when they said you’d always find your way back to people you loved. 

[venuslarkspur]

Teen Hero Shenanigans

Part 4

Lost And Found

Summary: Your Damian’s Twin Sister, after arriving 3 years after your brother, you never excepted to take the Robin mantle, until your brother runs away and you volunteer to take his place. Damian eventually returns and you are discharged from the role, after bottling up your anger you decide to go solo by running away and stealing the Batgirl. But you’re not alone, your sort of boyfriend joins you. The main problem is the boyfriend in question is your brother’s best friend, Jon Kent.

Warning: Wounds, pregnancy, mentions of abandonment, mentions of marriage, angst sort of. Toxic Al Ghul family.

Pairing: Jon Kent x Batsis (romantic), Batfamily x Batsis (platonic).

———————

“Are you feeling better now?” Jon asked, you were sat on your shared windowsill whilst he tended to your wounds. You tried to tend to his wounds too, but to be honest he had taken basically no damage; he was just trying to make you feel better. “All good now.” He said and let you lift your leg down, you looked down at your battered uniform. Seeing the beautiful purple fabric paired with the yellow symbol that you loved so much, it made you miss home. “I got the test, it’s in the bathroom for you.” He uttered, hitting his nails nervously

“Okay I’ll be right back, thanks.” You said and stood up, you kissed his forehead and disappeared into the bathroom. You were both acting, acting like everything was okay. Acting as if you were both mature adults who were ready for this, you weren’t. You were 2 days shy of your 16th birthday and Jon had only just turned 16. You pondered to yourself, that maybe if you had instead acted less like an adult and more like the child you actually are, this wouldn’t be happening. You noticed Jon had bought three tests, probably in case of a false negative. You unwrapped them and eventually did the job.

Finally came the moment of truth, you held the three tests below you, refusing to look. Your arm slung up against the sink next to you as you sat down. Praying to whoever was listening for this all to be foully, you took in a deep breath and breathed out again before lifting up all three tests. All of which read “pregnant.”

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You sat frozen as ice, just staring and struggling to comprehend; wondering if this was the price of you and Jon’s love. Or would this be a fatal mistake? A million thoughts came and raced through your mind: Has Damian already told father? What will your siblings do? What will your maternal family think?! Would they make you get rid of it? Could you even care for something so vulnerable when you yourself were so so vulnerable? Will Jon’s parents want nothing to do with you?

Most of the thoughts were preposterous and insane, normally you’d know that. But your hands sweated and your heat thumped all the same. You managed to climb of the toilet and yell “Jon!”

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“Oh gosh-I..I don’t know what to say.” Jon uttered, you both sat on the end of the bed; you held up your positive pregnancy tests. “Maybe that you aren’t gonna abandon me?” You said, coming off a bit harsh; logically you knew Jon wouldn’t do that, but your insecurity got the better of you. “I’m sorry, you’re right.” He bowed his head either in shame or sadness. You couldn’t tell which hurt you more. But what made you tear up was the thought of bringing your kid home, and giving them the childhood you wish you had; They would have so many people who would love them, unlike your childhood that seethed with deceit and rage.

“It’s gonna be fine- I mean, I think it will get easier as we get older.” He looked up to you again, you guessed he finally found the right things to say. “No I’m not gonna leave even if this whole thing is freaking me out a bit.” He said and rubbed the back of his head. “Jon, are we gonna get married?” You asked, looking at him with the gaze he found so soothing. “What?!” He jittered back slightly, not in hesitance but rather shock. His face looked so cute now, but you couldn’t understand what startled him so much. You had always assumed getting married was the safest option if you ever were impregnated, at least that’s what your grandfather said. You had to fight the urge to strike a match when you recalled to yourself the fact that your aunt Nyssa was born out of wedlock. But you resisted the urge.

“We aren’t even old enough to drive let alone get married.” He tells you quietly bowing his head slightly. “Oh..” You mutter under your breath, a bit sad but also grateful. “It’s not that I won’t want to one day, I think it would benefit our kid-gosh! that sounds weird to say…but anyways I want the same as you, I don’t want him or her having to travel between cities constantly.” He tells, moving back to his original spot. Your heart fluttered a bit, thank goodness for Lois Lane teaching Jon some responsibility; You excepted him to leave and get on with his life in all truth. “Sorry, it sounds like all that time in the mountains clouded my brain, I wasn’t thinking.” You reply, playing with your hands.

“Don’t apologise, anyway, it’s your birthday in 2 days. I’m gonna get some supplies for your cake.” He places a kiss on your cheek and stands up, it was his little kisses that you always appreciated so much, you always had to savour every piece of affection he gave you. “You gonna be okay on your own?” He asks, normally you’d say some remark about how you could ‘handle yourself’ but you didn’t today, knowing he was already worried and stressed. “Of course, don’t worry.” You say smiling, he opens the door and throws his coat on; “Just shout, and I’ll be there.” Jon said, closing the door behind him. You let out a sigh of relief and took some time to stare at the night sky in the window next to you, thinking how it didn’t compare to Jon.

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You hear a sudden ‘knock knock’ on the door as you clean around the flat. You tilt your head confused, Jon had only left 5 minutes ago? And he knew the door was open. Something was off. You grabbed a plate from the tiny kitchen, maybe to use it as a weapon? You weren’t sure, your body just went into fight or flight. You slowly opted towards the door, not bothering to use the peep hole.

You open the door, fast, you raise the plate up ready to attack. But your body hesitates at the familiar face. “Dick?” You ask, your voice cracking. You stood there in shock, completely petrified. His face oddly relaxed though, you excepted him to be seething. “I’ve been looking for you.” He said, but instead of sounding harsh his face eases; and he pulls you into a hug. So quick you don’t process it until 5 seconds later, your hands shake but you return his gesture. You stay that way for another 10 seconds, and without warning your facade collapses and tears began to fall from your eyes slowly. You slowly back up and cover your face, Dick ushers you inside and shuts the door. You suddenly choose now to take into account he was in full Nightwing get-up, it felt like your heart was collapsing, all the recurring memories of your family rushed to you, reminding you what you gave up. You fall to your knees with little grace and cry into your hands.

A whirlwind of emotions had taken over, Dick crouches next to you and you blurt something out; “I’m sorry brother.” You babble out, looking at him. He stares in shock, hopefully not a bad shock. “What?” He uttered, shocked at the use of the word ‘brother’, sure you had called Damian and even Jason at one point ‘brother’, but never him. His heart melted and he took you again in his arms, more firmly this time. “I’m so sorry!” You spurt out, an ugly waterfall of tears falling down your face; turning your cheeks sore. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, we’ve all been worried sick.” He whispered in your ear, it was oddly comforting. “Even father?”

“Especially father.” He declared, pulling you to your feet slowly. “Damian said you had something to tell us all?” He asked, but immediately regretted asking; you could tell by his face. “Oh..maybe Christmas would be a better time to let you all know, since I think father might be less mad on that day.” You remarked so casually but looking downward at your beaten costume. “Don’t worry, they will all just be happy you’re safe..” He said, awkwardly, but you could tell he was heart broken inside that you left, he acted relaxed but you knew the truth. You wiped your face with your arm and sniffled, “Can I please go home now?” You said, a sadness and urgency in your voice.

“That’s why I came.” He replied back, a seriousness in his tone. He ushered you out the abandoned flat, taking in its surroundings; probably wondering how you lived like this, but didn’t say anything. “W-wait!” You stuttered, half way down the hall. “What about Jon..? He’s coming with us.” You declared, crossing your arms; trying to look strong despite your tear dampened face and shivering lip. Dick sighs and confesses to you, “In truth, this was planned, we were waiting to get you both alone; Jon’s family should be meeting him now and taking him home.” He said, hiding no secrets. You both walked again, hoping one day you and Jon could still make that cake together. “But father might not want me to see him after everything.” You said, tears threatening to fall again, but Dick places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“I’m not happy about this, that’s for sure, but I can’t stop you loving him, which is why I can only help you.” He smiled at you and you returned his smile. “Also..they all insisted on coming.” He announced, and you turned your head to look at him. “Seriously? ALL of them?” You asked, and you actually feel happy, just like old times; “Well, myself, Barb, Jason, Cass, Tim, Duke and Steph.” He listed, and your heart twisted upon not hearing Damian’s name. Was he still mad? “Oh and Kate has came round as well, Bruce knows how much you like her.” He mentioned, it was true. You did like your Aunt Kate and how comforted she made you feel.

“I’m happy.” You told him, he peered at you and kept his smile. “You’re getting better at expressing emotion.” He said “I’m proud of you.” He patted your head and you continued down the grimy stairs. “Well I did have a good teacher.” You announced and he looked at you hopefully but you had to disappoint him. “I was talking about Jon, but sure you work too.” You giggled and he playfully eyed you. “Seriously?”

“Very, I hope I can see him again before Christmas.”

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