#and I’m just here thinking like… I don’t think ‘admirable’ is the right word but I guess???
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4linos · 2 days ago
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beyond the scrubs
han jisung x fem!reader
synopsis: new nurse jisung struggles with constant mistakes under a tough but skilled mentor, but their relationship evolves as they both learn the value of patience and support.
wc: 3578 ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
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a/n: i’m sorry but reader is kind of mean in this they make up for it though so don’t worry. :>
Jisung was a bundle of nerves as he stood in the break room, eyes wide as the schedule for his first day of orientation was posted on the board. It was his second day at the hospital, fresh out of nursing school, and everything was still new—still overwhelming. But today was different. Today, he’d be shadowing you.
He had heard a lot about you from the other nurses. You were experienced, patient, and always had a kind word for patients, even when the shifts got tough. And, he had to admit, you were pretty—really pretty, in fact. The way you carried yourself, confident yet compassionate, was something he admired from a distance. The idea of working under you for the next few weeks filled him with both excitement and an inexplicable sense of nervous energy.
You were helping a nurse and adjusting your stethoscope when he saw you in the corridor. Jisung couldn't help but believe you seemed like someone who had it all together because you were calm and professional. He didn't. But he was determined to make an impression on you today. "Hey, Jisung," you called him as soon as you saw him standing outside the nurse's station. His heart skipped a beat when you gave him a brief smile. "Ready for your first shift?"
"Y-yeah, absolutely!" A bit too enthusiastic, he stuttered. "I’m really excited to work with you." You gave him a clipboard after nodding and rearranging the papers in your palm. "All right, let's begin. You'll help with assessments today, and I'll show you the ropes." Jisung gave a hearty nod. He had to do his best, and he would. Especially with you, he didn't want to leave a negative impression.The beginning was fairly easy. You showed him how to take vitals, examine patient history, and do basic medical assessments.
Even though his hands were a little unsteady when he took his first set of vitals, Jisung made an effort to remain composed. He worked very hard to carry out your instructions precisely because he wanted to impress you. His hand slipped, though, and the cuff tightened too quickly just as he was ready to take a blood pressure measurement. When he fumbled with the stethoscope and knocked off the blood pressure cuff, the patient was shocked and sat up abruptly.
Shocked, Jisung blurted out, "I'm so sorry." "I didn’t mean to—" Your patience was already starting to run thin, so you let out a little sigh. "Jisung, you have to focus. This is what you've been trained for. Your nervousness shouldn't get in the way.” His face flushed slightly as he nodded. Although you weren't directly rude, your tone was very cutting. While he had only just begun, he was already making mistakes in front of you.
Later, in an effort to prove that he could manage the more challenging responsibilities, Jisung jumped in too soon when you were helping a patient move from their bed to a chair. He almost caused the patient to lose their balance since he miscalculated their level of mobility. "Jisung!" you yelled, protecting the patient from falling. Your tone was sharper than usual and you were obviously frustrated. "What were you thinking?”
Jisung's cheeks were burning. His words wouldn't come out, but he wanted to clarify that he was only trying to help. In his mind, he had failed miserably.
With a stutter, he said, "I—I just wanted to make sure everything was smooth," hardly meeting your eyes.
With a quick sigh, you squeezed the bridge of your nose. "You are not here to brag; you are here to learn. And ask for help if you're not sure."
Jisung nodded, his confidence fading away by the second. He thought he was an idiot. It always seemed to end badly when he tried to impress you. You left him in charge of seeing a few patients during your lunch break. Jisung made an effort to pay attention strictly to your instructions, but he was still having trouble. He accidentally knocked over a tray of medication when visiting a patient's room to see how they were doing, causing a mess all over the floor.
When you got there, he was crouching on the floor, frantically trying to collect the pills back into their bottles. "Are you kidding me?" you whispered to yourself. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you stopped yourself. It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying—he was just... constantly messing up. Jisung looked up at you and repeated, "I'm so sorry," in a tiny voice. "I’ll... I’ll clean it up."
Right now, you didn't have the energy to show kindness. You knelt beside him and helped him finish gathering up the pills, saying quietly, "It's okay." But you couldn't get rid of the gnawing annoyance. It was beginning to seem like his inexperience would make your day even more difficult, even though you knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The remainder of the shift followed the same pattern: Jisung made a lot of effort but was never successful. You were growing increasingly irritated as the day went on. Every mistake served as a reminder of his true lack of help, and you realized that you were becoming less helpful to him than you should have been.
You were worn out by the end of the day, and Jisung seemed to be as well. Even though he was still trying to keep himself composed, you could see how his shoulders drooped and his eyes averted from yours whenever you talked. "All right, Jisung. Before we wrap up, let's go over everything," you stated, sounding less patient than you had at the beginning of the day.
"okay," he mumbled.
You bit back a sigh. You didn’t want to be harsh, but it was getting harder not to be. When you looked at him, his gaze was downcast, almost as if he were apologizing for existing. You felt a pang of guilt, but your frustration was louder.
"You need to be more careful tomorrow," you said sharply. "And stop trying so hard to impress me. Just... focus on learning, alright?"
Jisung nodded quickly, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, of course. I—I’ll do better."
As you both clocked out, the shift ended in an uncomfortable silence. Jisung seemed to shrink even more under the weight of his failures, and you couldn’t help but feel the distance growing between you two.
You hated that it felt this way, but you didn’t know how to fix it, either. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Or maybe not.
Either way, it felt like you both had a long road ahead.
The hospital was bustling, the air thick with the usual sense of urgency. Jisung was trying his hardest to keep up, but it seemed like every step he took just led him to another mistake. He could feel the weight of your eyes on him every time he did something wrong.
Today was no different. You had asked him to distribute medications to a few patients, a task that should’ve been routine, but his hands were shaking. He double-checked the names, he double-checked the meds—yet his nerves made everything feel ten times harder. He’d just graduated, and he was still struggling to get his footing. He didn’t want to mess up, especially not in front of you.
When Jisung reached a patient's room, he hesitated for a split second, but then quickly handed over the medication, thinking he had everything under control. The patient took the pill without hesitation, but there was something off about the whole exchange. The medication seemed to be for a completely different patient. He hadn’t double-checked properly. He’d gotten distracted.
By the time you came into the room, it was too late.
"Jisung!" you snapped, your tone piercing and brimming with anger. "What the hell are you doing? It's the wrong medication!” Eyes wide, he froze. The patient was confused, but you took action right away to clear the air. Damage had already been done when you hurried to get the medication and ensure the patient's safety.
"Why do I continue struggling with everything by myself?” With a loud voice that was a mixture of despair and rage, you went on, "Are you really going to keep making these simple mistakes?" "If you’re just going to mess everything up, maybe you should get out of the way and let someone else do the job properly."
He knew that the remarks were meant to shake him into action, yet they still pierced him. Still, Jisung felt small at the time. He was unable to look you in the eye. He muttered, "I—I'm sorry," but you were already turning to leave, your body seething in frustration.
The remainder of the day was a blur of mistakes, each one getting worse. Jisung had trouble focusing on anything. He was certain that he wasn't suited for this job and that he was failing at everything. He made a lot of attempts to gain your approval, but each time he failed, he made matters worse.
You assigned him a different nurse to shadow by the afternoon. When you said, "Go work with Felix today," you were abrupt. "Maybe you’ll do better with him."
Jisung's heart fell.
Although Felix was nice, it was obvious that you had had enough of him because he was now being removed from your supervision. Trying to hide his disappointment, he nodded and went with Felix to the next patient room.
Felix had just as much experience as you did, if not more. In contrast to your direct, no-nonsense approach, he was patient and kind to Jisung. With his constant smiles, jokes, and easy explanations, he helped Jisung feel a little more comfortable. Nevertheless, the feeling that everything was falling apart continued.
You were on your way to the break room when you heard a low voice talking to someone as you passed the staff lounge. "Are you okay?" Felix's tone was polite and warm as he asked. In an attempt to mask what was happening, Jisung sniffed. "Yeah, just... it’s been a rough day." After a brief period of silence, Felix gently asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Jisung sighed deeply before his voice broke. "I just feel like I've ruined everything. Like I'm not worthy." Felix was silent for a while. A chair began to rustle, and soon Felix's voice could be heard once more. "You're new to this. Making mistakes is normal. But seem to be way too hard on yourself. What's happening?” Jisung hesitated, his words barely heard above a murmur. "I just wanted to show her that i was capable. I thought... I thought she was really nice. I thought she was pretty, too. I wanted to show her I could do this, you know? But everything I’ve done today, I’ve screwed up. I feel like I’ve let her down."
Felix's voice became even softer. "I know she's hard on you, Jisung, but it's not because she doesn't believe you can succeed. She knows you can, which is why she is pushing you. Don't be so hard on yourself. We've all been in your position. even her.” Trying not to cry, Jisung sniffed once more. "I just have the feeling that I might not be meant for this. I keep failing, even though I wanted to show her that I could manage it.” You were still while you stood in the hallway. As you listened to him, your heart hurt. He was just putting in a lot of effort. You were oblivious of the amount of pressure he had to put on himself to live up to your expectations. You hadn’t realized how much your sharp words were hurting him.
He wasn’t just a clumsy new nurse trying to find his footing—he was someone who admired you, someone who wanted to prove he could be more than just a rookie.
You stood there for a long moment, conflicted. You didn’t want to intrude, but at the same time, you knew that this was a moment for you to act. But you didn’t step into the room. You just quietly continued with your day, letting the weight of his words sit with you.
The next morning, you woke up early, a quiet resolve settling over you. You couldn’t just let the previous day end the way it did. You had been too harsh on Jisung, and it wasn’t just the mistake he’d made. It was your reaction to it.
You grabbed a coffee on your way into the hospital, thinking of how to apologize. You’d never been one to be overly sentimental, but this felt different. This wasn’t about him being a bad nurse—it was about you, and how you’d let your frustration cloud your better judgment.
When you got there, Jisung was seated at the nurse's station, nervously shuffling papers with his head down. He appeared to have had little sleep, and you felt guilty once more. With your coffee in hand, you approached him and placed it silently on the counter in front of him. Startled, Jisung blinked up at you. With hesitation in his voice, he questioned, "What’s this?"
"A coffee," you replied plainly, your eyes gentle. Then you put a little note beside it. Despite your inability to find the correct words, you managed to write something that seemed sincere:
I’m sorry about yesterday. You're doing good. Don't give up and don't be scared to ask for help when you need it. You're not alone. [y/n]
You said nothing else. You simply turned to go, but as you did so, you could feel his eyes on you, looking at you with a mix of appreciation and confusion.
After the coffee incident, everything felt different in the days that followed. You and Jisung's interactions had a slight change. Although Jisung first appeared hesitant, he immediately accepted your apologies with a small, shy smile. Because of the decreased tension between you two, you realized that you were more understanding of him, particularly when he was having trouble. You were actively working to further his potential, even though it wasn't like you hadn't seen it before. He cared about doing his work well, and it was evident that he wanted to get better. There existed a part of you that valued that.
Jisung was given a particularly challenging patient one morning—an elderly man who was rude and demanding. All morning, he had acted aggressively toward the staff, refusing to take his medication and making disparaging remarks about the standard of care. Jisung appeared to be struggling to control the situation as he still tried to get the hang of things. When the patient shouted louder, you could see his shoulders hunch and his eyes dart to you for support. You said softly, "Hey, it's okay," as you approached Jisung. "I'll take over for a while with Mr. Kim. You go out to take a break.”
Jisung paused, obviously attempting to manage things on his own, but as you looked at him encouragingly, he nodded appreciatively. You took charge of the situation gently as you entered the room in a composed, commanding manner. You recognized the patient's difficulties while simultaneously speaking in a respectful manner. You had mastered the delicate balance over the years, but Jisung was clearly still learning how to do it.
After a few minutes, the patient’s tone softened, and he grudgingly accepted his medication.
Once you were out of the room, Jisung gave you a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, I... I didn’t know how to handle him. He was just so... rude."
"You’ll get there," you reassured him. "It’s all part of the learning process. You don’t have to take it personally when they’re like that."
Jisung looked a little more confident, and you could see a sense of relief in his expression. "I’ll try not to next time."
"Good," you said, giving him a small pat on the shoulder. "But don’t forget—if you’re ever in doubt, don’t hesitate to ask for help."
It wasn’t just the patient encounters that changed, though. You started to make more of an effort to help him with the technical aspects of nursing as well. Whether it was giving him feedback on his charting, offering tips on patient interaction, or even just showing him how to use equipment more efficiently, you took the time to mentor him with more patience than before.
One afternoon, during a break, you pulled Jisung aside. You weren’t sure what had made you want to do this, but you felt like it was time.
"Jisung," you said softly, taking a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you for a second."
He looked up at you, a little startled. "Yeah? Is everything okay?"
You exhaled, feeling the weight of your previous actions. "I’ve been thinking a lot about how I treated you when you first started. And I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry. I wasn’t fair to you, and I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I’ve been tough on you, and I feel terrible about it."
Jisung’s eyes softened immediately, and he gave a small, understanding smile. "It’s okay. Really. I... I know I’ve been messing up a lot, and I get it. I think you were just frustrated. I get it."
You felt a sense of relief wash over you. "I don’t want you to feel like you’re not doing well. You are doing well, Jisung. You’re just new, and it’s okay to make mistakes. I should’ve supported you better."
His smile widened a little. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. And... I’m sorry too, for messing up so much. I want to be better."
You nodded, smiling back at him. "You are better. Every day you get better."
As the weekend approached, you found yourself getting more comfortable around Jisung. He wasn’t just a trainee anymore; he was someone you could talk to, someone you actually enjoyed working with. There was still that initial spark of admiration you’d felt for him, but now it was tempered by mutual respect.
That Friday, as the end of your shift neared, you threw out an invitation you hadn’t planned on making but had been thinking about all day.
You looked over at him and said, "Hey, a bunch of us are going to the bar after work," "Usually, Felix and I go with a few other nurses. Do you want to join us?” Jisung's eyes became a little wider. "Oh! Yes, of course, I would love to.” You said, "Good," with a tiny smile on your lips. "It will be fun. You deserve a break.”
That evening, you found yourself at the small bar that all the nurses and hospital staff frequented after shifts. The atmosphere was laid-back, a welcome contrast to the chaos of the hospital. You, Jisung, Felix, and a couple of other nurses sat around a table, talking about everything but work. The drinks flowed freely, laughter echoed around the room, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to relax.
You discovered you had a lot in common with Jisung, who was unexpectedly easy to talk to outside of work. You realized how much you two had in common. you both loved music, and you shared some of your favorite songs with him. He was interested in photography, something you had experimented with when you were younger. You even shared stories about awkward childhood experiences and your shared passion for late-night snacking.
You two realized at the end of the night that you had been talking for hours on end without even realizing how quickly the time had passed. Everyone had gone home, leaving the two of you standing outside the bar in a comfortable silence.
"I had a great time," Jisung said, his voice quiet but sincere. "Thanks for inviting me."
"Yeah, me too," you replied, your heart unexpectedly fluttering. "I’m glad you came."
He hesitated for a moment, then, asked "Can I... walk you to your car? I mean, since it’s pretty late and all."
You smiled back, a little surprised by the gesture, but it felt nice. "Sure."
The two of you walked in silence for a few moments before stopping in front of your car. Jisung looked at you, his expression soft but uncertain, and you could see the faintest trace of vulnerability in his eyes.
"Thanks for tonight," he said, his voice a little lower now, as if unsure of what to say next.
You tilted your head, feeling the moment shift, something that had been building all night, maybe even all week. You weren’t sure why, but in that instant, you felt drawn to him in a way you hadn’t expected. You leaned in, your movements slow and deliberate, and before you knew it, your lips brushed against his in a brief but meaningful kiss.
Jisung’s breath hitched slightly, and when you pulled away, you both looked at each other, surprised by the tenderness of the moment.
"Goodnight, Jisung," you said softly, smiling a little more than you expected to.
"Goodnight," he replied, his voice almost shy, but there was a warmth in his smile that made your heart skip a beat.
As you got into your car, you couldn’t help but think about the way the night had unfolded. Maybe things had changed between you and Jisung in more ways than just professionally. Maybe it wasn’t just a mentor-mentee relationship anymore.
nini’s notes 111324
hello everyone (: i hope you’re all doing super well.
i hope you enjoy this, i was never going to post because i didn’t know how to end it so the ending is definitely/feels rushed so sorry about that 😭. this was originally supposed to be kind of a love triangle thing between jisung, reader, and chan but i didn’t end up liking how it was turning out :>
this was inspired by a snippet of the new show st. denis medical i actually haven’t had time to watch it yet but i heard that it’s really good & accurate. Lol.
asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!
-🎀
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soaked4mk · 3 hours ago
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Logan Howlett boyfriend Head Cannons
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👽:my favorite old man frfr 😪 (not proof read)
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
SFW💛
★ Logan is fiercely protective of you, sometimes it can border on overbearing…If he senses danger just know he’s quick to step in without hesitation. “Just—stay close to me alright?” “I don’t care if it’s just a noise, stay behind me. I’ll check it out.”
★ This man is rough and rugged, always. But only you get to see his softer, more vulnerable side. Especially during quiet moments (aka when wade’s not home)
★ “Don’t go paradin’ this to the entire city now, but you’re my favorite person on this god forsaken planet.” He’ll murmur while bringing your hand up to his lips.
★ Logan is loyal to a FAULT! Once he commits, that’s it. He’s all in whether you like it or not. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here with you. Don’t think for a second I’d ever leave.” His loyalty runs deep and he’ll stand by you no matter the circumstances or the cost.
★ Peanut isn’t big on flowery words or poetry. But his love for you is shown through touch—rough bear hugs, protective hand holding, or giving you forehead kisses.
★ Again, rather than words this man expresses his love for you with his actions. “C’mere…” he mutters, pulling you into a hug that’s as secure as it is slightly crushing…
★ Fixing things around the house, cooking a simple, hearty meal. He tends to your wounds and pampers you when needed.
★ Logan’s temper flares if he feels like someone is crossing a line with you. “This guy botherin’ you?” He’ll ask cocking a brow, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the situation.
★ He’s got a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. Always expect sharp, quick witted one liners. “You’re late.” You’ll say, hand on hip. Smirking, he’ll reply some shit like “Time’s a human construct, babe.”
★ For someone who holds a gruff and rough exterior, he’s surprisingly a good cuddler. He’ll pull you close without a word, “Didn’t know I needed this til now.” He’ll smirk, relishing the warmth you provide.
★ Logan is the type of boyfriend who will stare at you when you’re not looking. His gaze can vary from intense affection to slight sadness. Sometimes he’ll reflect on the fear of losing you when he get’s lost in his admiration…
★ “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You’ll ask whenever catching his stare. He just shakes his head slightly. “Just…takin’ it all in.”
★ Not one for fancy dates, he’ll plan out more low-key, intimate activities like camping in the woods, hiking together, or road trips on his motorcycle.
★ “I know a spot a few miles out. Stars are brighter there. Thought we could use the peace tonight.”
★ He has the absolute BEST stories. He shares stories behind his scars, memories from his long life during intimate moments. “This one?” He traces the mark up his arm. “Happened back in ‘78. Remind me to tell you about it when we get more whiskey.”
★ Whenever you’re feeling sad, or down, Logan knows how to be there, how to be present without speaking. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. I’m here for ya…” He’ll sit beside you, offering you silent support and reassurance by giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.
★ Sure, he’s blunt and straightforward. But with you, he’s also soft spoken. “I love you” “How did I get so lucky?” “You gonna let me hold you already or what?”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
NSFW💦🤭
★ He’ll never admit it, (he will) but he thinks it’s totally hot when you take control. Mostly because it’s a rare treat when you decide to do so. “Alright, alright. I’m sat.” “I love it when you get aggressive.”
★ He’s an experienced man. Who knows what he wants and exactly how to get it. “Mhmm—just like that…” “god damn baby…” “that’s right~”
★ Man’s got stamina for days. I’m talking about round after round. He’s down as long as you are.
★ “Oh, come on princess, I know you can take it a little longer.” He smiles, pounding into you relentlessly, his hand on the back of your head while pushing your face into the pillows.
★ Logan is rough around the edges…so of course you’re in for some rough treatment during freaky deaky time. “Quit squirmin’ and take it.” He grunts, pinning your wrists above your head, drilling into you with quick, harsh thrusts.
★ “God damn you’re snug.” He says, smacking your ass harshly while wrapping your hair around his free hand, pulling your head back as he sets a brutal pace.
★ Logan loves marking your skin during intimacy. Biting your shoulders. Nuzzling into the crook of your neck, sucking and leaving dark marks along the column of your delicate skin while soothing each sting with a tender kiss.
★ “look at you.” Logan coos, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “All beat up and tired. We haven’t even started yet.”
★ Gets off from overstimulating you with his cock. Rolling his hips against yours, slowly and agonizingly after making you cum several times already. Smirking while splitting you open. Using zero effort while your hands fist into the sheets. Legs trembling and a sheen of sweat on your forehead.
★ “Gonna make you walk crooked—fuck you til you’re beggin’ me to stop. Then keep goin’ til I get my fill. How’s that sound?” He teases, rubbing the tip of his cock against your buzzing, numb cunt before slamming into you without another word.
★ Loves it when you get on your knees for him. “Atta girl. Now, open up for me.” He commands gently, fisting your hair up into a ponytail for you. (Or just gripping your melon if you have short hair)
★ He’s not going to fuck your face unless you ask him to. Usually letting you set your own pace when you’re tasting him. Keeping your hair out of the way while praising you.
★ “Take it all baby..” “perfect.” “You’re damn good at thi—s aren’t you?” “Swallow for me…” his grip will tighten in your hair (or not) as you bob your head up and down his shaft. Feeling his cock throb in your hot mouth before spewing thick, white ropes down your throat.
★ He low key likes thigh riding. Like…a lot. It seriously is one of his favorite ways to make you a whimpering, whining mess.
★ “Fuck, you’re doing so good—” He’ll praise you, hands sliding up and down your sides before firmly gripping your hips, grinding you harder against his thigh. “You like that?”
★ After care…Logan knows his way around the block when it comes to pampering the love of his life. Especially after fucking you senseless.
★ Has a habit of getting too rough with you sometimes. Happens to the best of us, right? “Let me see those marks…” he’ll whisper, tracing over your skin with his finger tips.
★ “You alright?” “Still with me, sweetheart?” “just relax, that’s right. Let me take care of you.” “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” “C’mere, let me hold you”
★ Massaging your back, getting you a drink, cleaning you up and getting you a fresh set of clothing, running a bubble bath or shower. Whatever works best in the moment for you, he’ll do it.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
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xartofmovingonx · 8 months ago
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yanderenightmare · 1 month ago
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♡ TW: yandere, captive reader, Stockholm syndrome
♡ FEM reader
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“I’m back,” he calls out softly once opening the door.
You’re already there—must have heard him drive up then padded over—standing there, wordlessly awaiting his kiss. You don’t notice it yourself, though he does, how you get up on your tippy-toes and meet him halfway. You’ve been doing it for a while now. It’s really cute. And so he doesn’t say anything on it—doesn’t want to spook the habit.
“Welcome home,” you say, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you soft and snugly against his chest—smiling at how you nuzzle into it—yet another cute thing you’ve started doing lately.  
“Mh-thank you, sweetheart—feels good,” he coos into your hair, petting it smoothly while you stand there, neither of you pulling away. “What did you do today?”
You sigh and sink further into his embrace, mumbling, “Same as any other day…” almost sulkily. “Just waiting for you.”
He chuckles, “Oh, that’s not true. I saw you watching something—anything fun?”
You hum, hiding your face in his chest, mumbling into it, “Not really… just binging another franchise they decided to ruin...” You shift and look up at him, keeping your chin on his chest while grumbling, “I don’t understand why they’d reboot something just to completely disregard everything it originally stood for—and all the effects just make it look cheap.”
He can’t help but chuckle again, ruffling your hair with a fond smile. “You’re such a nerd.” He could eat you up the way you are right now, plated on a silver platter for him all so willingly. “A cute nerd, though.”
You pout, “Honestly, what’s going on out there? I barely understand anything I’m watching anymore—it’s all alien to me.”
His hug on you tightens, but you don’t flinch like you used to—even as the look in his eyes darkens along with his words. “Yeah, the world’s gone mad. You’re better off in here.”
You smile then—agreeing for once. It’s also a new and adorable habit. And then you unzip his jacket for him, helping it off his shoulders and hanging it up for him—all so naturally. Looking back at him while asking, “And how was your day?”
He smiles while beholding you—to think such a question would ever leave your lips all so domestically—it’s enough to make his chest swell. Then with an exaggerated sigh, he whines, “Absolutely horrible without you,” wrapping you up in another hug, this time from behind, nuzzling his chin into the ticklish skin of your neck—making you giggle. Arms around your front, swaying you back against him. “Every second, I was counting down ‘til when I could come home to you.”
“Is that right?” You grin at his gesture—twisting around so that you could look at him straight. Slouched as he stood, all but draping you with his taller form—eyes leveled with yours, half-mast and adoringly admiring you like his most precious thing—his sweet loving girlfriend.
You cup his face in both hands, thinking the same of him—your sweet loving boyfriend. You’re about to kiss him, but then, struck by the thought, there’s a sudden freight in your chest that follows, and you jolt back as if he’d burned you.
He stills, warm expression twisting to one of concern. “Hey—” Stepping after you with his hands laid on your forearms, giving you a small squeeze. “What’s wrong?”
“I—” You don’t know, you think. Something’s off. Something’s not right—about his touch, about your heart, about all of it. “I’m just…” 
You think about it, eyes skittering over his face—did you always look at his face? Since when did he become so familiar? Since when did you walk around wanting to see it?
“I just…” the words feel all strange in your mouth, but there’s no denying there’s truth in them. “I missed you.”
His features blank at that, blinking at you. “Oh…” Then he softens—smiles with a chuckle, “Well, I’m home now, so…” His head slants, looking at you in askance as he gently brings a hand up to thumb your chin. “What’s with this pouty face?”
You bite your lip. There’s so much noise in your chest—so many conflicting feelings. You’ve begun missing him when he’s gone—when he leaves you. You’ve started wishing for his return, spending your day in wait. Since when did you start doing that?
It’s not right.
“I’m slipping,” your voice is shaken and weak, eyes welling up with thick water enough to have him look blurry—you shake your head and squeeze them shut—making the tears fall quickly. “I’m not supposed to miss you—” you cry. “That’s not right. I’m not—you’re not—”
Not your boyfriend.
“Hey, hey, sweetie. It’s okay,” he cuts your sob off with two warm hands placing themselves on your wettened cheeks, holding you tenderly. You layer yours on top of his, feeling it’s the only thing keeping you from spiraling into oblivion. 
“It’s okay, sweetie,” he coos, smearing out your teardrops, making them dry. “It was gonna happen sooner or later, right?”
Your eyes peel and look at him—through the veil. His face is a comfort—though you feel strange seeing it as such, when you know, even though most of you has decided to forget, that he’s a psychotic stalker who’s kidnapped you and held you captive for what must be closing in on a year already.
“Don’t feel bad—it’s only natural,” he assures, pulling you into his chest again—both arms around you snugly with his chin on top of your head, gently rocking you from side to side. “Everything’s fine. So you’re losing your mind a little—we’ll just find something else for you to think about. Right? Is there anything you want? Anything I can get you? More clothes? Sweets? Something fun? Maybe you can take up another hobby?”
He loosens his hold to look down at you—his face warm with devout for you, with a wordless vow saying he’ll do everything, give you anything in return for your happiness.  
You love him, you realize then with a shudder.
You’re in love with your crazy captor—your batshit lovesick oversweet captor who shares your bed and treats you like a spoiled pet. And it’s so fucked up—so, so very fucked up, so very fucking fucked up. But it’s true—you’re in love with him. And you have been for a while.
“What do you say?” he asks in hope.
Yet, you can’t say it out loud. No, not yet—it still feels all so wrong. But, at the same time, you don’t think there’s a need for you to put it into words for him. He’s always known you better than you have yourself, after all. And that wholesome smile on his face says it all—he already knows.
“No… I just,” you start, staring into his eyes—those full-loving eyes that look at you as if you’re the only thing of value in the whole entire world. “I just want…” It’s a scary confession—both admitting it to yourself and him. “You.” 
You look down, curling your fingers into his shirt.
“I don’t need anything else.”
It’s the truth and nothing but the truth—albeit a somewhat sad truth. It’s your one wish—your only wish. You just want him—to stay, to hold you, to kiss you. You can’t even think of wanting anything else anymore.
“Oh, well, that’s easy, isn’t it?” he says, stroking your cheeks, fishing for your shy gaze—smiling once hooking it—pretty teary puppy eyes, lost and looking for directions. 
Don’t worry—he’s here to help.
“Where do you want me then, sweetheart?” His lips near your forehead. “Here?” He gives it a chaste kiss, earning your sniffle, then ducks down to your neck. “Or here, maybe?” Giving that a kiss as well, this time with more behind it, sucking the skin with a soft bite. 
“Or maybe…” His voice is low, and it makes your skin buzz with a desire just as dark—shivering with it as his lips ghost yours. “Here?”
You hang in his hold, leaning after it.
But he just smiles, “Tell me, sweetheart—where do you want me?”
Your lip wobbles, brows cinched as your balled fists needily pull him close—yearning for it.
“Everywhere.”
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♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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rafecameronssl4t · 5 months ago
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Happy house || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: just a cute fic of the Cameron family being one big happy family and infatuated with you and Rafe’s daughter 🥰
Warnings: breastfeeding (?) apart from that this is all fluff
Word count: 1388
A/n: this was so cute to write 🥹🥹 loved writing the fact that the Cameron family is tight-knit and love one another
MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)
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divider be @yoonitos
“Got everything?” Rafe glanced back at you, his hands full with bags laden with mostly Mabel’s things. You hummed contentedly, one hand gently adjusting the bucket hat on Mabel’s head while her plushy little hands playfully reached for your face, her giggles filling the air.
“We’re not late are we?” You called out as the two of you boarded the Cameron’s luxurious yacht. “Hmm? Not really, they can wait,” Rafe grinned, glancing around as you shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “They’re here! They’re here!” Wheezie’s voice echoed excitedly from above deck, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps rushing towards you.
You shared an amused glance with Rafe as he shook his head affectionately. “Wheezie, slow down!” Sarah’s voice called out in a mixture of exasperation and amusement, just before Wheezie came bounding around the corner, closely followed by Sarah, Rose, and Ward.
“Hey!” You greeted them warmly, arms open for hugs all around. Wheezie and Ward gravitated towards you and Mabel, their faces lighting up at the sight of the youngest Cameron family member.
Wheezie squealed, bouncing up and down in excitement as she gently pinched Mabel’s cheek. “Hey, easy there,” Rafe interjected firmly, earning a glare from his younger sister, though you couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s okay, Rafe, she’s being gentle,” you reassured him with an affectionate smile, his protective nature endearing as always. “Wanna take her, dad?” you offered to Ward, who nodded eagerly. “May I?” he asked softly, reaching out to cradle Mabel in his arms.
“Of course you can, she’s your granddaughter,” you chuckled, leaning in closer as Mabel reached out to Ward, her little arms outstretched in anticipation. You moved closer to Rafe’s side, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you in close. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice low with admiration as he whispered, “They all look so happy.”
Jesus, Sarah. Stop shoving your phone in her face,” Rafe groaned, his tone edged with mild annoyance as he watched Sarah snap yet another 0.5 photo of Mabel. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the sight, knowing that it was always Sarah’s candid photos of Mabel that Rafe eventually looked back on with a chuckle.
“Send them to me,” you mouthed to Sarah, who winked in response, both of you giggling like schoolgirls. “What are you giggling about, hmm?” Rafe asked, looking down at you with a smile, his irritation quickly fading. “Nothing, nothing,” you said, your smile widening. “Just excited to get to the island and have lunch together as a family again.”
Rafe’s smile softened, appreciating how much you valued these family moments. Before he could say more, Rose chimed in, glancing at her watch. “Okay, I think we should move this upstairs, don’t you think?” she suggested. Everyone agreed, and the group began making their way up to the spacious upper deck. The Bahamas sun was bright overhead, casting a warm glow over the yacht.
“You know, if you ever need a babysitter, I’m right here,” Wheezie offered, linking her arm through yours as you ascended the stairs. She batted her eyelashes playfully, making you giggle at her antics. Rafe, close behind, scoffed. “Yeah, as if I’m letting you look after my kid by yourself.”
Wheezie rolled her eyes dramatically. “And why not?” Rafe gave her an incredulous look. “Remember the time you almost burnt down the house because you wanted to heat up chicken nuggets in the microwave?” Wheezie huffs, “That’s not fair!” She protests, her cheeks flushing. “I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to put metal in the microwave!”
Your jaw dropped in mock horror as you imagined the scene. “Exactly,” Rafe said, patting Wheezie’s head with a teasing smile. “You’re not looking after Mabel by yourself. End of story.” He walked away, leaving Wheezie pouting with her arms folded. You squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Maybe you can help out when I’m around,” you suggested, trying to lift her spirits. Wheezie perked up a bit, her eyes brightening at the idea. “Deal!” she said, grinning.
~
“Guys! You have to tan with me, the UV rays are insane right now!” Sarah called out from one of the outdoor loungers, her phone in hand as she checked the weather app. “I’ll be right there!” you shouted back, finishing up changing Mabel’s clothes. You handed her to Rose and Ward, who eagerly took over entertaining their granddaughter with coos and smiles.
Rafe trailed behind you, intrigued by the idea of getting some sun. He settled next to you on the lounger, stretching out and letting the warmth of the sun wash over him.“How are your boobs not saggy?” Sarah suddenly blurted out as she watches you tie up your hair, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Sarah!” Rafe hissed, shooting her a disapproving look.“Shit, sorry. Is that a bad thing to ask?” Sarah’s face flushed slightly, realizing the bluntness of her question. You couldn’t help but laugh, finding the situation amusing. Sarah joined in, her laughter a bit more nervous.
“I’m just asking. All my friends said that your boobs begin to sag because your baby is always sucking on them,” she explained, pushing her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. “Which one of your friends has a fucking baby at your age?” Rafe interjected, his expression one of pure disbelief.
“None of them. They were just saying that,” Sarah shrugged nonchalantly. You giggled, reaching over to rub sunscreen on Rafe’s face where he’d missed a spot. “I think it’s different for everyone. I mean, I hope mine don’t sag,” you said, glancing down at your chest and giving them a light, playful touch.
“You have such nice tits, it’s really unfair, ” Sarah sighed dramatically, leaning back and closing her eyes against the sun. Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly done with the conversation. “I’m putting my AirPods in,” he announced, inserting them with a huff as you and Sarah chuckled.
~
“Mabel, come here,” Rafe clapped his hands with a gentle yet encouraging tone. Mabel babbled happily, steadying herself before taking a few small, determined steps towards you and Rafe; you were nestled against his chest as you cheered her on.
“Keep coming, sweetie,” you cooed softly, your hands ready to catch her. Eventually, Mabel reached you and crashed into your waiting arms with a squeal. You kissed her chubby cheek affectionately, “Good job, baby girl!” You lifted her up in the air, as she squealed with joy.
Rafe took the moment to take a photo, capturing the pure happiness on both your faces. As Rafe looked through the many photos already taken, you couldn’t help but notice how Mabel lingered close to your chest.
“Are you hungry, bels?” You asked gently, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Glancing at your phone, you noticed it was about time for Mabel’s next feeding.
With Rafe still focused on his phone, a small smile gracing his lips as he looked through the photos of you and Mabel, you adjusted your bikini top and began to nurse Mabel.
Noticing the quietness, Rafe briefly looks down, his eyes widening slightly. “Jesus, kid,” he muttered under his breath, quickly reaching behind him to grab his shirt.
“What? Mabel was hungry,” you said innocently, as Mabel peers up to the both of you. Rafe didn’t mind you breastfeeding in public, if his baby girl was hungry, she was hungry. But he always made sure to help you cover up with a blanket when you puly down your top, his protective instincts kicking in.
Rafe’s gaze darted around, making sure no one was watching. “You should’ve let me know beforehand so I could’ve helped you cover up,” he murmured, adjusting the shirt and to peek at Mabel.
You chuckled softly, appreciating his concern and love. Mabel watched the two of you with wide, curious eyes as she nursed contentedly. "Next time I will," you assured him, reaching over to pat his thigh affectionately.
yourusername
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Liked by itssarahcameron, christoper_thorton, rosejcameron and 85,208 others
@/rafemfcameron we’ve got the cutest baby 🥰
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rafemfcameron: damn right mamas
↘️ eloise_cameron: I just puked 🤢
↘️ rafemfcameron: throwing u off the boat
itssarahcameron: SQUISHY
↘️ rafemfcameron: are you calling my kid fat?
↘️ yourusername: HAHAHAHAHA
christoper_thorton: guys let me babysit her again
↘️ yourusername: you tried offering her one of your brownies top….
↘️ rafemfcameron: im sorry, he did what?
3K notes · View notes
cloudybarnes · 1 year ago
Text
Secret Admirer
Pairing: slytherin boys x reader
Summary: you never get mail in the morning, not until one day you receive a letter from an anonymous sender, a secret admirer. From that day forward, you’ve been getting letters, poems, and cute little notes each morning at breakfast. His words were sweet, and as you began to fall for them, your quest of figuring out who sent them only grew.
Word Count: 4.1k+
Masterlist
note: trying something new! basically I dont wanna spoil who her secret admirer is, so I’m gonna call it slytherin boys x reader hehe guess you’ll have to read til the end to see who sent her the letters ;)
✰  ✰  ✰
“Theodore Nott, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass!” You shouted. 
You reached across the table in the great hall where Theo sat directly in front of you. He had stolen all of the bacon off of your breakfast plate and refused to give it up. Mornings were always quite hectic at the slytherin table, but this was downright unacceptable.
“Nope,” he smirked as he popped a piece into his mouth, “they were all out when I went up for breakfast. This bacon is mine now, sweetheart.”
You huffed, and sat back down in your seat. “You’re ridiculous. If you weren’t so damn late all the time, maybe you would have had some bacon of your own.”
“Here (Y/N),” Enzo smiled from his seat right next to you. “You can have some of my bacon.” He picked the best looking pieces and put them on your plate. 
“Aw, Enzo!” You grinned as you picked a piece up and ate it happily. “This is why you're my best friend.”
“Hey!” Pansy shouted from the other side of you. “Thought I was your best friend.”
“You didn’t give up a piece of bacon for her,” Draco smirked, “you’ve been demoted.”
Mattheo gruffed. “Enzo, you’re kind of mean, you know that? (Y/N) complains she’s all out of bacon and you jump to give her a piece, but when I say I need someone to do my charms homework for me, you don’t even try to lift a finger.”
“Mattheo, how many times do I have to tell you,” Enzo said, “I’m never gonna do your homework. And it’s not fair to compare that to giving up a piece of bacon! I don't even like bacon all that much!”
“Dude!” Blaise gasped from next to Draco, “if you don’t like bacon you should have passed that down this way a long time ago.”
Pansy scoffed and shook her head. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”
“Hey,” you whined as you ate another piece of bacon, “I’m the least idiot of the bunch, right Pans?”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, (Y/N/N).”
You grinned, about to rebuttal when the morning owl dropped an envelope in front of you.
“What’s this?” You questioned as you picked it up. 
“Uh, I think it’s quite obviously a letter, (Y/N/N).” Mattheo said as he stuffed his mouth full of bacon. “And, to think, you were trying to say you’re the least idiot of us.” He laughed.
“Oi,” Theo knocked his shoulder against Mattheo’s. “Leave her be. I’ve never seen her get a letter before, I’m curious.”
Draco shifted slightly in his seat. “Who’s it from, (Y/N/N)?”
“Nevermind who it’s from,” Blaise chuckled, “I wanna know what it says.”
“Why would you wanna know what it says and not know who it’s from?” Enzo asked, “That's like half the fun.”
You shrugged as you tore open the envelope. Opening the folds of the letter, your cheeks started to warm as you read what was inside. 
“What is it?” Pansy asked as she leaned closer, trying to catch a glimpse. 
“It says, uh,” you cleared your throat, a little bit flustered. “It says ‘people love to stare up at the stars, glimmering as they might in the night sky, yet everyone is too scared to enjoy the beauty that is the sun. you are my sun, and I would willingly go blind to catch even just a glimpse of you each day.’”
You friends all stared at you in shock. Draco, Blaise and Mattheo had their mouths hung open in shock. Enzo blushed a little bit, Theo had his eyebrows raised like he appreciated the words written on the page, and Pansy all but squealed as you read the letter. 
“Oh my god, I think I’m going to combust,” Pansy swooned. 
“Who’s it from?” Theo asked.
You shrugged, “I don’t know.” You flipped the letter to the back to see if it was signed at all. “It’s only signed with a heart.”
“That is so romantic!” Pansy squealed as she clasped her hands around your arm. “Our sweet (Y/N) has a secret admirer!”
“Wonder who it could be,” Draco said as he flicked his fingers in motion to hand him the letter. 
You complied, and passed the note to him. 
“I don’t know,” he said as he flipped it all around. “The handwriting sort of looks familiar.”
“Maybe it’s someone you know?” Theo suggested as he grabbed the letter from Draco’s hands. He took it upon himself to check it out a time or two before passing it to Mattheo’s eager grasp.
“I think it’s kind of funny,” Mattheo chuckled. “What if it’s some first year trying to make their move on you?”
You shuttered. “Merlin, I sure hope not. I honestly don’t think a first year would be able to write something so beautiful.”
“Yeah, no way,” Pansy shook her head. “Mattheo, you’re just jealous you weren’t the one who sent (Y/N) this letter. Maybe she’d give you a chance if you did something romantic, or just not annoying for once.”
“First,” Mattheo said, “ouch. Second, who says I’m not the one who wrote (Y/N) this love letter?”
“Mattheo, you wouldn’t know romance if it hit you with a ten foot pole.” Pansy said. 
“Hey!” Mattheo complained. “Someone tell her I’m romantic.”
“Hell no,” Draco scoffed. “You’re ‘bout as romantic as bloody boil, mate.” 
You laughed as Mattheo scrunched his face up. The bells chimed signaling the end of breakfast and the start of first class. 
“I’m not too worried about it,” you said as you stood and started packing your stuff up. “It’s just a little letter. No harm in it.”
“But you don’t want to know who sent it?” Pansy asked as she grabbed her belongings as well. 
You shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I’m not silly enough to expect something to come from this; it’s just a note. It could be a prank for all we know.” 
“No one who writes like that is doing it as a prank,” Theo remarked. 
“Well, still, whatever the reason may be, I’m not gonna go out looking for this person. No matter how sweet the words are.” You smiled, “I’m gonna head to class, bye guys.”
On your way to class, you couldn’t help but recite the words written in the letter. They had made your heart flutter, as stupid as that sounds. You slightly resented the way it made you feel as it was only a few measly words on paper, but the romantic part of you couldn’t help but want to know who was behind them. 
✰  ✰  ✰
In your last class of the day, you finally were able to see your good friend Luna Lovegood. You had been waiting all morning to have class with her so you can inform her of the letter you received that morning. 
“And it was just so poetic, Luna. No one has ever said anything like that about me before.”
She smiled at you as you mindlessly drew on your assignment. “I think it sounds quite lovely. Do you have any idea who it may be from?”
You shook your head. “No idea. I don’t even think I know anyone who writes, well, anything.” 
“What about that boy Enzo you always hang out with?” Luna suggested. “I’ve got him in my literature class, he’s very talented.”
You thought to yourself for a second. Could it be possible Enzo was your secret admirer? You’d been friends for so long, and he’d always be especially kind to you.
Well, he’s especially kind to everyone, now that you think about it. 
“I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “I guess I just never would have expected it to be one of my friends, let alone Enzo.”
“I wouldn’t rule out your group of friends,” Luna said with a smile, “it could really be any one of them.” 
“You think so?” 
“Well, maybe not all of them, but I think it could be a good place to start if you were wanting to figure out who it is.”
As you pondered over Luna’s words, Slughorn made it a point to reiterate there was no talking allowed during the assignment. 
You rolled your eyes and got back to work, waiting for this class to be over so you could finally figure out who wrote you the letter. 
✰  ✰  ✰
Back in the common room you saw Pansy, Draco, and Enzo sitting on the couches. 
“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” Pansy smiled as she scooted over and patted the spot next to her. “Find out anything new about your secret admirer?”
You smiled with a roll of your eyes as you sat with her. You kicked your shoes off and folded your legs under your body. “No, but I think I’ve got an idea brewing of how to find them.”
“Oh,” Draco smirked from the couch across from you. He folded his arms over his chest, “do tell, (Y/N), I’m very curious to see who it could be.” 
You shook your head, teasingly, “not a chance, Malfoy. I’m not giving up my secrets til I get to the bottom of this thing.” 
Draco raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, doll, if you wanna be secretive about your already secret admirer, I respect it.”
Enzo shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably. “It’s kind of strange though that they went out of their way to write something to you but kept it a secret. It just makes me a little apprehensive.”
“Oh, chill out, scaredy cat,” Pansy said. “(Y/N) will be fine, and if it’s someone weird at least she’s got us to look out for her.”
You grinned and wrapped your arms around Pansy’s neck. “Quit getting all sweet on me, Pans.”
She chuckled and playfully pushed you away. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not getting sweet, don’t get it twisted.”
You chuckled. “I think I’m gonna head up, got lots of scheming to get to,” you teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 
You stood up from the couch and Pansy stood with you. “Farewell, boys, it’s been awful as usual.” She said with a smirk. 
“Thank Salazar you’re leaving,” Draco said to her. “Your presence was such a nuisance.” 
Pansy snarled at him and dramatically turned away to head up the stairs. You and Enzo shared a short laugh before you followed her up the stairs to your shared bedroom. 
✰  ✰  ✰
The next morning, you were last to the dining hall for breakfast. 
“Finally, she makes it,” Mattheo called out before taking a swig of his orange juice. 
You huff and settle into your seat between Enzo and Pansy. “I know, I overslept something horrible this morning.”
Since you were so late, the kitchen staff had already stopped serving breakfast meaning you were going without this morning. 
Theo glanced at you from across the table and pushed his plate towards you. “Here,” he said, “take anything you want.”
You looked down at saw scrambled eggs, french toast, and sausage links on his plate. 
“Really?” You grinned as you grabbed a sausage link from his plate. 
Theo nodded, “yeah, can’t have you go without eating. Lord only knows what a monster you can be without food.” He teased with a small smirk. 
You crinkled your nose up at his and grabbed a piece of french toast as well. “I’m gonna let that slide since you were nice enough to give up your breakfast. Don’t make me regret my kindness.”
Theo chuckled and pulled his plate back to him, glancing up at you before delving back into his plate. 
Mattheo tried to reach his hand over to Theo’s plate but was met with a slap on the wrist. 
“Ow!” Mattheo said as he cradled his wrist in fake hurt. “Theo, how could you? I thought we had something special.”
Theo rolled his eyes. “You got more food on your plate then the rest of us combined. I think you’ll be alright.”
You chuckled, but a thought crept into your mind. “Hey, guys, uh, did the post come today?” You asked. 
Draco raised his eyebrow with a smirk. “Waiting for another letter, are we?”
Your face burned as you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna get to the bottom of who it is.” 
“You’ll find ‘em, (Y/N/N),” Pansy said, “even if I have to interrogate everyone we know. We’ll get down to the bottom of it.” 
Just as she said that, the morning owl came swooping down towards you and dropped a small slip of paper in front of you. 
Draco smirked, “Looks like someone really wants your attention, (Y/N/N).”
You tried to hold back your smile as you unfolded the small post it note. 
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read out to them, “'I love to see you smile, especially when you’re smiling at me.’ Aw, that’s kind of sweet, actually.”
“Don’t tell me you’re starting to get sweet for this mystery man,” Blaise interrupts. 
You shrug as you fold the note back up. “I don’t know, it is pretty sweet, no? And this must mean it’s someone I know personally because they said I smile at them.”
“Oh Godric,” Mattheo grinned, “you’ve fallen for a mystery man.”
“No I haven’t!” You protest. “I just think it’s sweet and now I know it’s someone I’m friends with and not some creepy first year.” 
“Wait,” Theo said, “how do you know it’s someone you’re friends with?”
“Because it says I smile at them,” you said obviously. “Who else do I smile at?”
“(Y/N), I hate to break it to you,” Pansy said as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “but you’re the most smiley slytherin I’ve ever met.”
You shrugged off her hand with a fake glare. “Hey! Give me some credit, I can be bad sometimes.”
Enzo chuckled, this is the first time he spoke all conversation. “You’re too sweet to be bad, (Y/N/N).”
You grinned and playfully bumped your shoulder against his. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just know it’s someone I know. I can feel it. It’s not some random person, it can’t be.” 
The bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. You and your friends stood up to leave. You couldn’t help but think about the notes you received, pondering on who it could possibly be. 
✰  ✰  ✰
“Post is running late this morning,” Draco noted as the clock struck 8:26 with no sight of the morning owl. 
You were a tad disappointed. You had pondered all day yesterday about who it could be. You’ve narrowed it down quite a bit, and you think Luna may be on to something. While you don’t exactly think for sure that it’s Enzo, you do think you’ve narrowed it down to your group of close friends. 
You really just can’t see anyone else knowing you well enough to be this fascinated with you. The only one out of your friend group that you completely had ruled out is Blaise. 
Blaise was definitely out because out of the whole friend group, he was the least close with you. Frankly, you guys just don’t talk nearly as much as you talk to the rest of them. 
“Great,” Mattheo gruffed, “how will I be entertained this morning without (Y/N)‘s secret stalker and his confession of love.”
Okay, maybe Mattheo was out too. 
“Oi,” Theo piped up. “Don’t knock it too hard, (Y/N) seems to be enjoying herself with the letters.” 
You blushed a little as you shrugged. “I don’t want to seem weird by how invested I am in it, but I just think it’s sweet. No one’s ever really expressed this kind of feeling for me, so… you know,” you shrugged awkwardly, your face definitely beet red by now. 
“Well I for one am extremely invested in this,” Pansy said. “I’m lowkey jealous that I’m not the one with a secret admirer. What I wouldn’t give for someone to think of me that way.” 
“Maybe someday someone will like you, Pansy,” Enzo said reassuringly. 
“We might all be dead by the time that happens, but who knows, it might happen,” Mattheo said. 
Pansy gasped with a glare. “Wow what crawled up your ass this morning?”
Mattheo shrugged and focused his attention back to his breakfast plate. 
“Anyway,” Draco said, “I’m intrigued as well. I think I’ve got an idea who it could be, but I'm not quite positive.” 
You parked up at that. “Really? Who’s your guess?”
Draco smirked, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He teased. 
You glared at him, “Malfoy, if you know who it is you better spill.”
“I’m not saying I know who it is, I’m just saying I have a hunch at who it may be.”
“Oh!” Enzo exclaims as he points up in the air, “here comes the owl.”
You grin in anticipation as the owl drops a little note down in front of you. It was a larger note than yesterday, but this time it didn’t have something sweet written on it. 
It had a clue. 
“It just says ‘being your friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, though I’d be lying if I said i didn’t want to be more.’” You read. 
“So it is one of you!” Pansy shouted as she pointed her finger towards everyone at the table. 
Draco smirked, “that was my hunch. ‘Had a feeling it was one of these blokes.”
“And who says it’s not you, Malfoy?” Mattheo questioned with a raise of his brow. 
“Please,” Draco scoffed, “if I wanted to woo (Y/N) she’d be mine by now.” 
“Oh big talk from down that end,” Pansy rolled her eyes. 
“I could get anyone I want,” Draco puffed his chest. “I don’t need to be anonymous to do so.” 
“Hey, don’t hate on my letters, Draco.” You complained. “Least they got the balls to say something.” 
“Barely counts as having balls when they won’t even say who they are.” Mattheo countered. 
You huffed as your table fell into somewhat of a silence. Conversations picked up without you as your thoughts trailed off. 
Theo had been extremely quiet this entire time. While he was never the chatter bug, it was odd having gone almost the entire breakfast without hearing from him. 
As everyone else was engaged in conversation, you stared at the boy sitting across from you. His head was down as he played with his breakfast, pushing it around with his fork. 
You lightly kicked his leg under the table. 
Theo’s head perked up. His eyes stared into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t remember what you wanted to say to the boy. 
His eyebrow raised in question as a small smirk glazed his lips. 
You blushed a little. “I-uh just wanted to see if you were alright. You didn’t really say too much the whole time we’ve been here.”
Theo shrugged as his smile dropped. “yeah, just don’t got too much input.” 
Your heart swelled. You really had turned each morning to revolve around you and your secret pen pal. 
“Sorry, Theo. I didn't mean to annoy you with all my talk of the letters.”
He shook his head. “You could never annoy me, doll.” 
Your heart beat like crazy. 
“Still, though, I feel bad about how much I’ve put into this. Let’s talk about something else.” You offered, “how’s class going?”
Theo chuckled and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Shit. I’m drowning in assignments and got two quizzes coming up that I’m just not ready for.” 
The bell rang. 
Theo groaned. “Got one next class. I think I might skip, though. Give myself some more time to prepare for it.”
As everyone started walking out of the dining hall, you grabbed Theo’s arm and pulled him back. 
His eyes widened slightly, but quickly reverted back to normal. 
“Maybe I‘ll skip with you,” you said, “if you’ll have me, that is. I can help you study. What class is it?”
Theo hesitated. “It’s, uh, herbology. ‘m not very good with plants and all that.”
You grinned, “I can help! I’m not too bad with flowers and plants.”
Theo nodded, “yeah, I could really use the help.”
“Okay, you wanna go to the library then?”
Theo shook his head. “I’ve got a good spot. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. 
You followed him all the way out to the courtyard towards the opposite end of the school. You walked until you reach a large bench with intricate designs on the backing and arm rests. 
Theo took a seat. “Figured this would be good as any. Least now we can look at some plants up close, eh?”
You chuckled and took a seat next to him. “Yeah, sounds great, Theo. You got your textbook?”
He nodded and dug through his bag to pull it out. Once he handed it to you, you started flipping through the pages to get to the important material. 
“I’ve got the herbology exam 4th period, so I can help you study and it’ll help me study too! Win, win.”
Theo grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Sounds good, doll.”
Your cheeks blushed. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. “I like when you call me doll.”
Your smile dropped. “Oh, geez, I did not mean to say that out loud.”
Theo’s face remained blank. That just made you more nervous. 
“Great, now I’ve weirded you out.” You exasperated. “I’m really sorry, Theo, I didn’t mean to-“
“I’m not weirded out, doll.” He cut you off. “Was just a little stunned is all. Didn’t expect you to say something like that.”
You thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than it already was, but somehow it did. 
“Well, still,” you mumbled as you looked down at the textbook again, “sorry.”
Theo sat for a minute, watching as you flipped through the book. Your eyebrows furrowed a little in aggravation. You were annoyed at yourself for how stupid you were being. It was Theo for Salazar sake. 
Though, you couldn’t help but admire the boy. He was gorgeous, for one, but he was also charming and witty. He was sweet and generous. You couldn’t deny you were attracted to him, but you had never thought he would see you in the same light. 
“(Y/N)?” Theo called. 
You looked up into his eyes. 
Theo stared at you, taking in each one of your features. Your eyes, your lips, your nose. You shifted a little, way too aware of his gaze on you. 
“Theo?” You called back. His gaze shifted back to your eyes. 
Before you could say anything, he softly spoke, “I’m the one sending you those letters, (Y/N/N).” 
You stared at him in shock. 
No way. 
“Y-you’re the one who wrote me the letters?” 
He slowly nodded his head. Theo’s lip was drawn in between his teeth. “Is, uh, are you disappointed?”
“What?” you exclaimed. 
He shrugged, “I mean, you just really seemed to like the letters, and I know you wanted to know who it was, so I just hope I haven’t disappointed you in the revelation.”
You shook your head. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite.”
Theo’s head shot up to look at you. “Really?”
You smiled and nodded. “Mhm, I like you Theo. I have for a while now, actually, I just thought you’d never give a chance.”
He laughed. “You thought I’d never give you a chance? I thought you’d never give me a chance.”
You laughed loudly together. When it finally subsided to quiet chuckles, you said,  “I really like you, Theo.”
Theo’s smile grew. In a quick moment, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. 
You gasped against his lips, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. His textbook fell off your lap as he pulled you closer by the waist. 
You kissed him until you couldn’t kiss anymore. Finally pulling back, Theo’s grin was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, even with his lips a little puffy from your kiss. 
“I really like you, Theodore.”
He grinned, “I really like you, more (Y/N).”
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sushiyuzu · 21 days ago
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cute yapper
warning: fluff + comfort — soft!sylus admiring you while you yap. like, a lot 🗣🤍
a/n: tysm for the cute request, dear anon! i apologize if it’s short for you but i hope you like it as much as i do <3
anon’s request / link: click here
you’re talking, and, well, it’s a lot.
words just keep coming out, one after another, and you can’t help it. you’re talking about everything—how your day went, a cute cat you saw on the way here, some new recipe you want to try, or that funny story from when you were little. it all feels so exciting to you, like you just have to tell someone.
and, of course, that someone is sylus.
he’s sitting there with his usual calm, cool look, his red eyes watching you. he doesn’t say much, just a soft nod here and there, maybe a small smile if you’re lucky.
it’s hard to tell sometimes if he’s really listening or if he’s just being polite. he’s so quiet, and it makes you wonder if you’re being too much, if he’s just letting you talk because he doesn’t want to be rude.
you pause for a moment, glancing at him. he’s looking at you, but his face doesn’t give much away. that only makes you more nervous. “...and, well, maybe i’m just boring you,” you mumble, voice getting softer as you look down at your hands. “sorry, i guess i’ve just been talking too much...”
you stop talking completely, a little embarrassed now. your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt, and the silence between you feels heavy, like maybe he’s relieved you finally stopped.
then, after a moment, he moves closer, and you can feel his warmth next to you. his voice is low, soft, and it catches you off guard. “why did you stop?”
you look up, eyes wide, surprised by the question. “oh... um, i just thought maybe you weren’t really listening. i didn’t want to bother you.”
he lets out a small chuckle, like he finds something you said a little funny but in a nice way. “i was listening,” he says, his tone serious but also gentle. “i was listening to every word.”
you can’t help but blink in surprise. “really? but... i thought...”
he reaches over, his fingers brushing a strand of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. his touch is soft, and you can feel a warmth spreading across your cheeks. “yes, really,” he murmurs. “i think it’s cute. you’re just so... so pretty when you talk. your face lights up, and your eyes sparkle. i could listen to you talk all day.”
he says it so calmly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but his gaze is warm and deep, like he means every word. you feel your heart start to race, a mix of joy and shyness making you fidget in your seat.
“so... you really don’t mind? you actually like it?” you ask, just to be sure, your voice coming out a little softer than before.
he nods, and his hand moves to rest on yours, his thumb gently tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “of course i like it. i love it, actually. you’re so full of life when you talk about the things you care about. it’s... beautiful.”
oh, the man that you are.
his words make your cheeks feel even warmer, and you feel a shy smile tugging at your lips. you take a deep breath, feeling a rush of happiness that’s hard to put into words. “thank you, sylus,” you whisper, your heart feeling full.
and then, before you know it, you’re talking again. your words are coming out even faster, even happier than before. you tell him all the little details, even the silliest ones that you used to hold back. it’s like a flood of everything you’ve wanted to share, and for the first time, you don’t worry about holding back.
sylus just watches you, his eyes soft and his expression calm, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips, and he’s nodding along, letting you know he’s right there with you. every now and then, he’ll lean closer, his hand still warm on yours, or he’ll give a soft chuckle when you say something funny. it’s like he’s completely focused on you, and only you.
then, as you keep talking, he leans forward even more, so close that you can feel his breath on your shoulder. before you can even process it, he presses a gentle peck there, playful but soft, then followed by a slow, open-mouth warm kiss. the sensation sends a small shiver through you, and you pause, surprised.
you feel his arms slide around you, holding you close as he murmurs, “don’t stop, okay? keep talking. i love hearing your voice.”
you nod, feeling a mix of excitement and comfort as you settle into his hold. you keep talking, feeling safe, warm, and wanted. for the first time, you don’t feel like you’re too much, or that your words are a burden. instead, you feel like every word matters, like every story you share with him is special, and he’s there to hear it all.
and you absolutely love him for that.
always.
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spectorgram · 1 year ago
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the letter
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theodore nott x f! reader summary: you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased. notes: jealous! theodore nott >>> word count: 1.4k
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You would think for a magical school, Hogwarts would have better heating or some heating spell, but the Slytherin dorms are frigid as usual as winter creeps up. You fasten your robe clasps and draw it tighter around you, simultaneously trying to tug your skirt down in a futile way to heat yourself up more. Your knee-high socks only do so much and you pretty much give up on the endeavor as you climb up the stairs and head for the Great Hall. 
You’re immediately greeted by the cozy warmth of the hall, spotting your friends, all swathed in green and silver robes and knits. Theo spots you first, sliding over and nearly knocking Blaise off the bench. “Blood hell, mate,” Blaise grumbles as you approach, kicking Theo’s leg lightly. 
You slip into the space created for you, right in between Theo and Enzo. You stifle a yawn and ask, “Can someone pass the eggs and bacon?”
As Enzo reaches for both platters, Theo’s eyes zero in on your legs. “How are you not cold?”
You frown. “I am,” you reply, piling your breakfast onto your plate, “but Pansy’s demon cat apparently thought my winter tights were toys and decided to scratch them all up.”
Pansy sighs, “I’ve ordered you new ones, calm down.” 
Theo drapes his robe over your legs and you smile gratefully at him. He smiles back and your heart flips. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how beautiful he is — all dark caramel curls and long lashes that frame those devastatingly blue eyes. He’s been your best friend since you started Hogwarts and you knew you loved him at first sight. The longer you’ve known him, the more you’ve fallen for him. 
It’s a tale as old as the world itself: you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend but you value your friendship far too much to do anything to jeopardize it.
“Mail’s here,” you hear someone say down the table. You look up to the ceiling, which has been enchanted to look like a sky that’s about to break open and drop snowflakes from its clouds. Owls soar in through the openings at the top of the walls, diving down towards their intended recipients. 
“Maybe your new tights are here,” Enzo says. 
Pansy adds, “I hope so. Then you’ll stop complaining about it.”
You snort, reaching up to grab a letter dropped by your family owl. You feed her a piece of scrambled egg as she takes off back towards the owlery. You tuck your parents’ letter into the inner pocket of your robe just as another owl swoops overhead, dropping a pale blue envelope on your lap. 
“Who’s that from?” asks Pansy. 
You shrug, using your butter knife to open it up. As you do, Draco grumbles at Mattheo: “For the love of Salazar, stop hogging the pastry basket.”
You skim over the letter addressed to you. You tilt your head in confusion and Blaise asks, “What’s it say?”
Enzo peeks over your shoulder and his face breaks into a smirk. “‘Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight tonight. Signed, Your Secret Admirer.’” he reads.
“What?” Theo suddenly snatches the letter from your hand. You watch in confusion as his eyes dart back and forth. His shoulders tense and his mouth purses into a thin, hard line. 
“You doing okay there, Nott?” Matthew asks, shooting a simpering smile at his friend. Theo sends a glare back but doesn’t say anything, the letter’s paper crinkling under his grip. 
Pansy asks, “Are you going to go?”
You hesitate, surreptitiously glancing at Theo, startled to find that he’s gazing at you with an intensity you’ve never experienced. You pluck the letter from him and fold it neatly. “I think so,” you say. “I’m interested to see who it is.”
“Be sure to bring your wand,” Draco says. “Just in case.”
“Obviously,” you deadpan. The conversation shifts into whether anyone was prepared for midterms coming up. 
You fiddle with the letter in your lap. Theo’s silent for the whole conversation. 
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You chew on your bottom lip as you reread the same sentence in your textbook for what feels like the hundredth time. The letter has stuck in your head the whole day. It crosses your mind that it could be a prank or a set-up — it’s not a secret that Slytherin isn’t the most popular House among your classmates — but you know you can handle yourself. You’re more worried about how Theo was acting at breakfast. He didn’t say a word the rest of the meal, not even when Enzo and Mattheo tried looping him into the conversation. He just sat there, sullen and gloomy, and his mood seemed to worsen more when you handed him his robe back and said you had to get to class.
You sigh heavily, trying to play out every possible scenario that could happen between you and the letter writer. You check the clock in the library: 11:45; you need to head over to the Astronomy Tower. 
You groan, gathering your things, sliding them into your bag, and making your way back to the Slytherin common room to drop off your things in your dorm. “Cacophony,” you supply to the portrait, which swings open to let you in.
The common room is blissfully silent when you enter, a welcome contrast to the mess of thoughts in your head. You’re about to head down the hall to your dorm when you collide against someone. You huff an apology but when you feel their hand on your shoulder, you look up to see Theo. He looks intense, eyes wide and glinting with sharp determination and his mouth still set in that frown from earlier. “Sorry, Theo,” you say. “Didn’t see you there. Where are you going at this hour?”
“I was going to find you,” he replies. 
“Oh,” you say. “Well, here I am. Sorry, I’ve got to drop this stuff off and then—”
“Head to the Astronomy Tower,” he finishes for you, “to meet your ‘secret admirer.’” 
You don’t like the way he sneers at the last part of his sentence or the way he uses air quotations. You’re about to respond when he says, “Don’t go.”
“What?”
“Don’t go,” he repeats.
“Why not?”
He pauses before saying, “What if it’s someone just having a laugh?”
You bristle, hurt, and you feel your temper flare. “Is it so damn hard to believe that someone might actually have a crush on me?”
Theo laughs, razor-sharp and incredulous, as if he can’t believe that you’re saying something so outrageous, “No, it’s not.”
“Then why shouldn’t I go?”
“Because I don’t want you to!”
“For Salazar’s sake, Theo, you can’t tell me what to do!”
“I know that!”
“Then are you trying to tell me not to go?”
“Because I bloody like you!”
Your heart stutters to a stop. You can only hear the sounds of both of your labored breathing and you suddenly can’t meet his eyes, trying your best to wrap your head around the fact that your feelings are reciprocated. “How long?’ you ask softly, holding your breath.
“Since first year.”
You blink. “Really?”
He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs heavily, “Mattheo’s right; you’re so oblivious.” There’s another beat of silence and he asks, a little shyly, “How do you feel?”
You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “I like you too, Theo. I’ve liked you since first year as well.”
He echoes your “Really?” and it makes you giggle, “I guess we’re both oblivious.”
He joins your laughter and you let your forehead rest on his chest as your shoulders shake. When it dies down, Theo shifts you off him and lifts your chin with his forefinger, any semblance of coyness gone. You gaze into his ocean blue eyes. Salazar, you could drown in them. He offers a charming smile and he leans close, just a few centimeters away, and says, “Can I kiss you?”
Your eyelashes flutter and your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Your lips meet, fervent and desperate, years of yearning releasing like water through a broken dam. Theo hooks his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. You wind your arms around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at his nape. He walks you backward, slipping his tongue into mouth as he crushes you up against the wall. He deepens the kiss and your knees go weak. 
Theo moves your bag off your shoulder and drops it on the floor. The letter that rested at the top of the pile of possessions falls out, laying forgotten on the ground.
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gojoest · 2 months ago
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BURDEN and REVERENCE — gojo satoru
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MDNI, pregnancy freak!satoru, f!reader, established relationship (married + reader is expecting), pregnancy, lots of pet names (love, pretty one, baby, sweetness, my beautiful wife), fingering, humping, cumming in pants (<- hinted), wc: 1.5k, not proofread, dividers by @/cafekitsune
what your fingers can’t, your husband’s will ;)
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“Stupid Satoru”, with a shaky breath you mumble under your nose. “It’s all because of you—", you whine to yourself.
Grabbing onto the sink in the bathroom with one hand to support yourself, you desperately try to make the other one work its way (and magic) between your legs, albeit ineffectively.
You can’t properly reach down and take care of yourself now — courtesy of the swollen belly that your very husband brought upon you. No matter how much you bend and shift, your baby bump is still in the way. Your fingers alone prove unable to make it to the spots in you that are itching to be touched right now.
“Stupid, idiot, bastard— “
“I love you too”, a familiar voice reaches your ears — the words are spoken with a smile that’s imbued itself in the timbre of it. “You look beautiful”
A sigh breaks past your lips. “In distress? — Sure”
Your husband — and the father of your unborn child, Gojo Satoru — stands tall at the bathroom entrance, looking at you with lovesick eyes, admiring your naked body with reverence. “I’m sorry”, he breathes.
It is not an apology for being late though.
Times like this one are the raw example of the changes he had forced on your body.
There are certain things you can no longer do by yourself now that your belly’s grown quite a bit, or you can — but at the cost of great discomfort, you must admit. Tying your shoelaces, reaching certain parts of your body when you shower that require you to bend down, or when you try to get off on your own — all those innocuous activities have suddenly become quite the challenge now with his baby growing inside you.
At times like this, you need him — and he is more than happy to help and serve you.
Truth be told, he bears a little bit of guilt for burdening you like this, but it is a guilt that he likes to let plague his conscience…
…because he’s completely enamored with this state of you — pregnant, swollen with his seed that is blooming in your womb like a flower, the you that is reliant on him to wash your feet, to rub your ankles, to paint your toenails, to fuck your depths your fingers can’t reach — now those are the parts of your body only he has access to; not even you.
You need him, and he loves that.
Slowly rolling his sleeves up, he inches closer to you. “Let me take care of you, my love”
To him, you look so beautiful in your naked glory on display. Leaned against the sink with a hand between your thighs, your swollen breasts like two open hands awaiting to be grasped by him, your round belly sticking out towards him — the view alone makes his cock stiffen in a heartbeat. Fuck, he mouths the word. The pressure in his groin is festering, really fast.
You free your hand now, knowing that he’s here to take charge of things, and once before you he takes a hold of it and brings it to his lips. Starting from the knuckles he paints your fingers with tender kisses, licking the remnants of your slick on them. “You should’ve waited for me”, he hums into your hand. “You know I love joining you — don’t keep this from me”, he pouts a little.
“I know, but…”, you knit your brows. “I don’t want to be a burden to you like this, all the time”
Maybe, you’re just having another hormonal episode. Maybe it’s just that, you think, because Satoru’s never given you a reason to feel like you are weighing on him.
Eyes squinting, Satoru tilts his head in confusion. His hips push forward, causing the erection under his slacks to rub against your belly — on purpose, to prove a point. “Do I look burdened to you, pretty one?”
You chuckle. A-ha— point proven, you see. “That looks like a huge burden if you ask me” — your remark drags a short laugh out of him.
“Mind if I share some of it with you then?”, he grins smugly.
“You say some of it, but you really give all of it to me”
“It’s ‘cause you take it so well, baby”
You slap his chest — Ah, what a dickhead — and smile at him.
His lips charge towards you and peck you softly on the forehead. “You are never a burden to me”, he whispers against you before he slowly starts to drag his body down — on his knees, in front of you. Kissing every inch of you along the way — the tip of your nose, your lips, your chin, the length of your neck, your breasts, your beautiful belly... “Sometimes I fear that I am the one burdening you — with my freakish desire of you, all the time”
“So you admit to being a freak”, you ruffle his hair softly as his cheek remains pressed against your baby bump. “You flatter me too much”
“No — I revere you”, he gazes up at you, his lips longingly kissing the skin on your belly as he takes both of your hands into his and places them on his shoulders. “Here — hold on, and relax your thighs”, his hands travel down between the plush of your legs and slide them open like they’re curtains. Your nails dig into his clothed flesh, earning a low hiss from him.
“Stay like this for me, love — stay open for me to reach you” — soft pecks on the flesh that separates his lips from his unborn follow each word that seeps from his mouth, as if to ease you into his finger prodding at your slit along with his thumb rubbing tender circles on your sensitive clit. His other hand rested against the bottom of your belly.
“Satoru”, you moan softly — but demandingly — at his touch. Clenching your cunt to try and suck him in — and you do, although not entirely. You force just about the tip of his finger into you. “I am ready”
…and you’re impatient, he smiles.
His middle finger tardily inches into you, urging his cock to twitch under his pants at your warmth and at the wetness soaking into his skin. Fuck, he curses quietly under his breath — his hips involuntarily buck forward with need, his clothed bulge pressing itself on the lower of your limb; he is humping your leg like a dog.
Fuck, he must be a sorry sight for you right now — he thinks. And here you are, being groundlessly anxious about burdening him… With what exactly? Have you ever seen a dog burdened by its owner? Isn’t it the other way around? — he ponders, while his finger sinks deeper into you.
“More, ‘Toru…”, you whimper. “Want m-more..”
Grunting at the way your muscles contract around his finger, Satoru slides it in further — repeatedly reaching in as far as possible, curling and drawing back. “More what, baby?”, he coos. “More depth—“, he rams his finger in, causing you to jolt and squeeze your hands harder around his shoulders, mouth hung open, voiceless and unable to even gasp. “Or more fingers?” — he pulls away, only to push back two of them in.
You gasp, barely able to draw in a breath of air, thighs squeezing around his hand. His fingers are thick, and they are long. Two of them almost feel like a cock inside you.
“Tell me, love — which one is it?”, innocently he asks, while his fingers maneuver inside you, not so innocently. A self-satisfied look on his face that you want to wipe off with the back of your hand, but all you can muster is a whimper of pleasure washing over you.
“Oh? Is it both, baby?”, he continues coaxing you smugly. “Is this how you were trying to fuck yourself? Is that it, baby? Am I doing it right for you, sweetness?”
“Fuck, S-satoru—“, you cry. Moving your hips in sync with his fingers, your round belly hits his face with each motion, clawing low grunts from his throat and desperate humps around your leg as he slides his throbbing bulge up and down on it. He was soaking his pants by now, but you were his sole focus. He’d clean his mess later, with you in the shower — but still, by grinding on you like a dog he wanted to let you know the effect you were having on him.
“I am, baby — I am fucking you”, he croons like a sweet addition to the squelching noises of your sopping pussy. “Cum on my fingers, my love. My beautiful wife — cum on your husband’s fingers”, his glazed digits pumping harder, hammering into you fast and filling the bathroom with echoes of labored breathing and loud smacks of his hand against your soaked cunt.
“C-cuming” — you manage to utter through rapid breaths, pussy pulsing and your walls grabbing more at his fingers as the wave of pleasure washes over you.
Your hands relax their grip and hug around his neck as you look at him with weary eyes, lips panting heavily still. “What a good girl”, he speaks to you. “Now come—”, his hand retreats from your folds, causing you to slightly flinch as he pulls away from your sore, sensitive cunt, “Let me clean you up, and maybe — burden you a little”
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surftrips · 10 months ago
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ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭
word count: 1.6k
a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍
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You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 
But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 
So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 
One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.
“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 
“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 
“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 
Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 
“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 
Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 
“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 
“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.
“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.
“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.
The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 
“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 
“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 
“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 
He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 
“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.
“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.
“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 
“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 
Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 
Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 
“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 
“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 
“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 
“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”
Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 
“Thank you!” Luke cut in.
“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 
That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 
Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 
Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  
In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.
You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 
“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 
Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.
After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 
Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 
“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 
“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 
“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 
“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 
Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 
“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.
“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 
By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 
As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 
Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 
“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 
Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 
“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”
He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 
“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 4 months ago
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Stability
subby!emo!Wanda Maximoff x AMAB!Super soldier!reader
Summary: You are a member of the Avengers, a super soldier, and when Wanda Maximoff joins after losing her brother in Sokovia you see the broken girl before you and vow to pick up the pieces and keep her together.
Word Count: 1.5K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R has a penis, first time s*x, nipple play, R keeps W on a schedule.
A/N: I wrote this sleep deprived at 7am with the help of @vcdanvers
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You provide a stability to Wanda's life that she's never had before. You help keep her in a routine. Wake up, brush teeth, get dressed for training, have breakfast, train, shower, lunch, studying, dinner, down time, brush teeth, meds, bed time. 
You keep her to that routine most days and when she starts having an off day you dim the lights, make a comfy nest in the bed with blankets, pillows, snacks, and drinks. You watch her favorite shows and movies. 
You don't think much about the responsibility you've taken on until you have to leave for a mission and Wanda spirals from the lack of support from you. Though she knows the routine and goes through it, it doesn't feel right without you by her side. Your phone is blown up by her texts and calls and you'd wish this mission would end quickly. 
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“How’s she doing?” Nat asks as she makes her way beside you on the bed. The small shitty motel room you two were hiding out in for the mission was stuffy. 
“I think she’s spiraling a bit.” You show Nat your phone, her eyebrows raising. 
“Think? She basically fully relies on you for everything during her days now. She’s a lost puppy. You bring stability to her life and now you aren’t there. I’m surprised she’s actually doing everything.” You bite your bottom lip, letting it fall between your teeth. 
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about her lying about doing everything. If I don’t remind her of her meds and help her with her makeup she usually forgets.” Nat knew just how important the meds were that Wanda had been prescribed. 
“She relies on you, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. Few more days and we’ll be back home. A few days isn’t going to kill her.” You nodded in agreement as you sunk down into the rough mattress and not fluffed pillows. 
=======
When the quintet lands at the compound you don't even make it off ramp when she tackles into you, knocking you down, but you don't mind a few more bruises. You go to speak, but you're cut off when her lips crash into yours. Instinctively you're pulling her closer, flush against you.
As Nat walks by out of the jet she chuckles, shaking her head, “Tony owes me $1,000.” 
You break the kiss, laughing a bit at the comment from your best friend. Looking at Wanda, a flush on her face and neck makes you smile softly. A hand cupping her cheek that she leans into. You smile softly, leaning in to give her another kiss before lifting the two of you up. “Come on, let's talk about this in our room.” 
Wanda simply nods letting you lead the way. On the way you ask what she's done today, knowing what should have been done and she tells you like she had everyday with her constant updates. She had told you already, seven texts letting you know she had gone through her routine. She would have been studying now if not for your sudden arrival.
Walking into your room smelled distinctly of Wanda, you'd been gone long enough that it was noticeable as soon as you walked in, cherry blossoms. You closed the door, locking it. “Friday. Soundproof the room please and do not disturb mode on.” You called out to the AI of the compound. 
Once you got confirmation your attention was on the brunette. Admiring the face you'd missed so much. Taking in the little details her smudged eyeliner made her look more like a raccoon and you knew she'd fallen asleep with it on more than once without you here. Her lips slightly darkened by the tinted chapstick she uses. Her green eyes sparkling like sea glass under the summer sun. 
You took notice of her nervous habits, pulling at the sleeves of her (your) sweatshirt to pull over her hands, fiddling her fingers back and forth, the very subtle lip bite, and how she was too nervous to look you in the eyes. 
You take a step forward, softly smiling as you cup her cheeks and pick her head up to meet your gaze. “I've wanted that for a long time. I just never wanted to push you or make you uncomfortable.” You knew her wounds were still fresh from Sokovia and you didn't want to take advantage of that. You only ever wanted to be here for her. 
“I didn't realize just what you meant to me until you weren't here…it felt like I lost you while you were away and I know I shouldn't need you, but I do. I crave what you provide everyday and I–I need you Y/N. I don't know what I'd do without you. I felt like a zombie without you here.” You took in each word and the inflection in her voice pitched up with each passing second. You could hear the cracking in her words that cracked your heart. 
You held her tightly, pulling her against you. She fit like a puzzle piece. Her arms wrapping around your waist. You kissed the top of her head. “All I want is you, Wands. I want to care for you, I want to love you, I want to be with you.” You could feel your heart flutter at your own words  but even more so at her response.
“That's all I want. Just want you. Want to just be yours.” You felt her pull back, looking up at you. A smile forming on your lips as you lean down for a proper kiss, soft, slow. Your lips moved against one another and you could feel the heat of her magic against your skin. You smile into the kiss, pulling back just enough to whisper, “Someone's excited.” 
Her face burying against your neck as the heat dissipates. She mumbles something and you chuckle, picking her up like you've a hundred times before and she clings onto you. 
She'd only ever clung like this when she'd fallen asleep during team movie nights. You'd carry her back to bed just like this, legs wrapped around your waist, arms around your shoulders, and face buried against your neck. 
You take her to your shared bed and sit at the edge. You aren't expecting it but she grinds her hips against you. A moan crawling up your throat and you feel yourself twitch. Wanda knew already, how could she not? You sleep in your boxer briefs and a sports bra. Most mornings you wake up at half mast. 
She moves faster against you, it's still slow, but you can tell just how needy she is. You're hyper aware even of her. Every roll of her hips and the growing bulge straining against your sweats you had changed into on the jet. 
A soft needy moan comes out of her and that's when you feel it, she's soaking you entirely. A wet spot forming right on your bulge. A deep groan makes its way out of you. 
You can't stand it anymore and flip her onto her back in one single motion. You pull your hard cock out of its confines. You don't bother taking anything off her at this moment. You push her soaked panties to the side. Pushing into her, both of you moaning out at the feeling as you slowly sink inside of her. She takes you beautifully as you bottom out in her. You breathe deeply as you look at her face completely red as you lean down kissing her before starting to pull the sweatshirt and then her shirt. 
You take in her pale skin and the light dusting of freckles, leaning down to take her breast in your mouth, the other with your hand as you slowly move your hips. Your actions elicit soft moans, breathy pleas falling from her lips, and mumbles of Sokovian words. It only eggs you on as you move faster, flicking your tongue against her hard nipple, the other getting twisted gently between your thumb and forefinger. 
You feel her nails claw down your back and sides. You know her nail polish must be ruined from it. You're sure her marks will look lovely with the array of bruises on your back. 
“Ah…feels s'good feels– Ah–” you feel her tighten up around you, finally letting her breast go. Moving yourself up to capture her lips and swallow her moans. You know she won't last much longer as you speed up, setting a brutal pace. Feeling your own orgasm build up. 
“Fuck..I'm gonna cum.” You whisper against her. She tightens at your words.
“Me too–Ah please please need this!” Her pleas were more than enough as you thrust deep, filling her up as she vice grips around you, practically screaming as she cups and you are so thankful for telling Friday to soundproof.
A few hours and a few rounds later you've cleaned Wanda up, showered with her and now lay on the bed, soft kisses as a sitcom plays in the background. You couldn't think of a more perfect place to be than right here with her. 
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pastryfication · 5 months ago
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fan interactions | oscar piastri
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pairing: oscar piastri x shy!reader
summary: you tend to shy away from all interactions and oscar has never had a problem with that. he can’t deny that seeing you interact with his fans isn’t a sight he enjoys, though.
warnings: none!!
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every race weekend you are able to attend follows a familiar pattern for you: you arrive at the track with oscar, your heart pounding with excitement and anxiety as the noise, the crowds and the high energy overwhelming you. sticking close to your boyfriend’s side, holding onto his arms or hand is the best comfort you can get. oscar’s presence beside you acts as your shield, your safe haven in the whirlwind of it all.
today is no different. as you walk through the bustling paddock, you stick close to oscar, basically hiding behind him. he holds your hand reassuringly, his touch grounding you in the chaos and you enjoy being able to cling to him. you know he understands how you feel, always making sure you’re comfortable, never pushing you to interact more than you’re ready for, and you appreciate it so much. all of your life, people have tried to force you into becoming more social, but it never helped you, only made you more uncomfortable, so oscar’s understanding means the world.
today, though, something unexpected happens. as you pass by a group of fans, one of them, a young girl with a friendly smile, catches your eye. she steps forward, her excitement palpable.
“hi!” she exclaims. “you’re oscar’s girlfriend, right?” her are eyes wide with admiration as she questions you.
you nod shyly, trying to force your voice above a whisper. “yes, i am.”
the fan beams at you, reaching into her bag. “i made this for you. it’s a bracelet with oscar’s racing colours and his number! i hope you like it.”
she hands you a beautiful bracelet woven with intricate patterns in orange and gold. your heart swells with warmth at the kind gesture. “thank you so much, it’s lovely,” you say softly, your fingers trembling slightly as you take the bracelet and slips it around your wrist.
“can i take a picture of you wearing it?” the fan asks, her eyes sparkling with hope.
overwhelmed by the attention, you try your best to seem calm and confident, but your hands are shaking slightly as you nod your head.
the fan takes a quick photo while you muster up your best smile. her gratitude is evident in her eyes as she thanks you. “thank you so so much! you’re so sweet.”
you manage a small genuine smile in return, feeling a mix of nerves and happiness. as the fan takes a step back, you turn to catch up with your boyfriend. when he feels your presence besides him, oscar turns to you, his eyes full of pride.
“you handled that so well,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “i know it’s not easy for you, but you were amazing.”
you blush, looking down at the bracelet. “i was so nervous,” you laugh awkwardly. “but she was really nice.”
oscar chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “you were adorable. i think it’s cute how shy you get. and i love seeing you smile like that.”
your heart flutters at his words, butterflies forming in your stomach. being with oscar made you feel so special. something about his intense attention and affection makes you feel like the most important person in the world. moments like these only work to further remind you just how deeply he understands and appreciates you. you lean into him, wrapping your hands around his bicep as you continue walking into the paddock.
“thank you,” you whisper, grateful for his constant support. “i really don’t know what i’d do without you.”
he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you don’t have to do anything alone. i’m always gonna be here for you.”
his promise makes a brighter, even more beautiful smile appear on your face. walking towards the mclaren hospitality, feeling his soft skin beneath your fingers reminds you just how lucky you are. the luckiest girl in the world perhaps.
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2neaky · 24 days ago
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🎧Thank U 4 The Dono!🖥️
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You have gifted BlissDa_Bunni $7,000 – Now make ya shit rain..
You have gifted BlissDa_Bunni $3,000 – And then some.
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𝑹𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓𝑶𝒏𝒚! ♡ 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝑶𝑪! | 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 -> 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: mutual masturbation (fem. & masc.), use of a s*x toy, major overst*mulation, squ*rting, tricking/“paying for p*ssy,” dr*g use (w*ed), controlled org*sm (through commands), dom & sub dynamics, “secret admirer” trope
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As if the stars have aligned, her eyes fall right on his comment. There’s only a single second that delays the bright smile on her lips.
Her gasp is gentle. “Oh my gosh, yes!” She glances back at her speaker for a quick second. “I love this song. Literally—“ she presses clean fingers to her lips and surveys the chat for a moment.
“Oh my gosh, I hope no one, like … leaks this.” She giggles. “But … I love Onyankopon. Honestly—this is so embarrassing to say.” She only laughs harder, completely breaking character. “I’m sorry, guys. I’m sorry, it’s just—”
With a sigh, she shakes her head and looks elsewhere.
“He’s so fine.” When she looks back at the comments, a shy smile stretches her lips. “Definitely one of my favorite artists right now—I even follow him on Instagram.”
She releases a breath, her chest deflating and she tries to calm down.
“Maybe one day he’ll complete the mutual.”
Her giggle is a poor attempt at trying to signal that this is a joke. He knows she’s serious about that wish.
And he just might grant it.
“But, yeah,” she sighs out. “Is it, like … bad to say that sometimes I … think of him when I touch myself?”
He’s paused any and all movement, stopping to listen carefully.
And here her fans go, as usual, telling her “no” and not to worry. Some even dare to say that she can do better than the mainstream rapper.
She ignores them regardless.
“Like, he’s just … so fucking hot.” She’d cringe at her choice of words if she weren’t so horny.
And speaking of, she’s got a hand hidden between her thighs, absentmindedly pressing against her folds.
It doesn’t miss him.
“I just … I don’t know, I feel like … “ She swallows. Her eyes glaze over as she seems to start zoning out. “Like it’s big.”
She holds her breath, trying to stop the moan when she had pressed too hard.
“Big, and … and thick…”
Her eyes fall closed, her fingers rubbing steady and slow between glossy lips. She’s getting wetter.
“Fuck,” she shivers. “S-sometimes, I … I use my really big toy and … and pretend it’s him—“
A soft whimper cuts her off. With too much ease, her fingers glided in. The wet squelch was picked up by the mic.
“I think he fucks rough, l-like he says in his songs.” A broken moan.
The chat watches her gently fuck herself with four skinny fingers. Her strokes are easy and shallow, definitely not enough to bring her to a release.
But the slick sounds of her touching herself definitely get the chat off.
And him, too.
Before she can let them have too much fun, though, Bliss pulls her hand from between her lips to show the camera.
A toffee colored hand dripping with glaze and cream. When she pulls her fingers apart, her own slick stretches between each one, webbing them all together.
“I-I think I’m ready for it,” she giggles.
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COMING SOON
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pucksandpower · 6 months ago
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Disturbing the Peace
Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics
Max Verstappen x Vettel!Reader
Summary: an environmental activist disturbs the carefully constructed peace of Max’s life and turns his whole world on its head (or in which environmentalism and being a menace both run in the Vettel family)
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Max strides across the tarmac towards his sleek private jet, ready to head up to the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes after a weekend of relaxation back home in Monaco. But he stops short as his eyes land on a cluster of protesters glued to the ground around his jet’s landing gear.
A gruff security guard approaches Max. “Sorry sir, we’ve got a bit of a situation here with these Greenpeace loons. They snuck past the perimeter and glued themselves down before we could stop them.”
Max scowls as he reads the words Fossil Fuels = Destruction scrawled across one of the protester’s shirts. He storms over, fists clenched at his sides.
“What the hell do you people think you’re doing?” he fumes, glaring at the seated activists. “You realize you’re costing me tens of thousands just by delaying my flight?”
“That’s kind of the point, bro,” one long-haired guy shoots back with a snide grin. “You’re one of the worst celebrity polluters on the planet.”
But Max’s gaze is drawn irresistibly to you — a beautiful young woman with fierce eyes and hair whipping around your face in the coastal wind. There’s an intensity and passion burning behind your stare that Max finds himself unexpectedly captivated by.
You rise gracefully to your feet, the only one not glued down, and take a step towards the fuming Formula 1 star. “Max Verstappen. Out of all celebrities last year, you were the 20th highest personal polluter. Even higher than Taylor Swift.”
There’s an unmistakable blend of reproach and attraction in your tone that throws Max off balance. He scoffs, trying to regain his bravado.
“What, are you stalking me or something? And I’m supposed to care what some random activist chick thinks?”
You level him with a pointed look. “Not some random chick. Y/N Vettel. Sebastian’s sister. And yes, you should care, because this is your planet too.”
Max blinks in surprise at the familiar surname, now recognizing the resemblance to his former competitor.
Oh fuck, not this girl.
He can’t resist giving you another once-over, taking in your lithe frame, the jut of your chin as you stare him down defiantly.
An amused smirk tugs at his lips despite himself. “Vettel, huh? I should’ve known. You two do have a thing for causing drama wherever you go.”
The dig lands but you don’t rise to the bait, shaking your head minutely. “This has nothing to do with drama, Max. It’s about doing what’s right for the environment before it’s too late to save it.”
“Oh, spare me the self-righteous preaching,” Max scoffs, reflexively going on the defensive even as a small part of him admires the conviction in your voice. “Like your jet-setting around to protest events is really doing the planet any favors.”
You raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Jet-setting? I take public transit everywhere. Planes are the exception for international events, and I always buy carbon offsets.”
Max feels a flicker of grudging respect at that before quickly stamping it down. He folds his arms across his chest, fixing you with a challenging stare. “Yeah? Well what about your clothes? I’m guessing that shirt was made from petroleum-based synthetic fabrics.”
A look of surprise crosses your face before you recover with a small shake of your head. “It’s actually bamboo. Petroleum-free and sustainably sourced.”
“Your shoes then,” Max presses, gaze dropping to the canvas flats on your feet.
You lift one demonstratively. “Recycled rubber.”
His eyes narrow as he struggles to find another example to poke holes in your lifestyle. You watch him search with ill-disguised amusement, finally taking pity.
“Listen Max, I’m not saying I’m perfect. Nobody is. The point is to keep trying to do better where we can.” Your eyes hold sincerity and — though Max is loath to admit it — wisdom beyond your years. “But you’re in a position of power. With all your money and influence, just think what you could do for sustainability initiatives. How many trees you could plant or clean energy projects you could fund with just a fraction of what you spend on private flights and gas-guzzling supercars every year.”
Max shifts, discomfited by the practicality of your words. It’s harder to be glib and dismissive when you’re not ranting incoherently about the planet dying, but making reasoned arguments. Especially with that intense, scrutinizing gaze fixed so squarely on him.
He clears his throat, resorting to sarcasm as a defense mechanism. “Yeah, that’s cute and all. But then who would keep all those gas station attendants employed? I’m doing them a public service, really.”
The ghost of a smirk curves your lips in a way that makes Max’s chest tighten unexpectedly. “How very philanthropic of you.”
He has to look away from the spark of challenge and — yes, flirtation — in your expression. Max isn’t sure when this stopped being a confrontation and turned into some sort of tense back-and-forth bristling with inexplicable chemistry, but it’s rapidly becoming unnerving.
Seeming to sense you’ve flustered him, you lean in conspiratorially. “You know Max, for someone who acts like such an edgy bad boy, you’re not so tough. I think deep down you know I’m right.”
Max’s jaw ticks stubbornly even as his cheeks burn at your proximity, at the sweet floral scent of your shampoo drifting across the scant distance between you. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
In a daring move, you reach out and lay a hand on his arm. His breath hitches just slightly at the contact as you hold his gaze intently. “Then help me understand. Join me for dinner sometime and we can talk more about this over something other than just shouting at each other.”
The gentle touch, combined with the sincerity shining warmly through those big widened eyes, takes Max completely off guard. He opens his mouth, then closes it, abruptly unsure how to respond to such an olive branch extended from his vehement critic just moments ago.
Before he can formulate a reply, the wail of sirens pierces the air. A police cruiser pulls up as four officers jump out, advancing menacingly towards your compatriots still glued to the pavement.
“Alright, that’s enough here,” the barrel-chested sergeant barks gruffly. “You’re all under arrest for criminal trespassing and failure to obey airport security.”
You hurriedly step between the officers and your fellow protesters, palms raised placatingly. “Please officers, don’t arrest them! I was the one who orchestrated this, I’ll go quietly. Just let them go.”
Max’s heart does a strange little flutter at the selfless gesture, at the protective way you shield your group from the aggression of the snarling police officers.
Before he can think better of it, he’s striding forward and planting himself at your side, a steadying hand on your arm. “Actually officers, I’m afraid I can’t let you detain this woman.”
You blink up at him in surprise. The lead sergeant looks far from impressed, folding his beefy arms across his chest.
“And just who the hell are you to make that call?”
Max lifts his chin defiantly. “Max Verstappen. I’m sure your supervisors would love to hear how the biggest name in racing got falsely arrested on the tarmac because one of their officers couldn’t exercise some restraint.”
The sergeant’s eyes widen almost comically and he takes an unconscious step back, disarmed by Max’s threat to leverage his fame and money. “Oh. Er … Mr. Verstappen, sir. I’m sure, um, we can sort this out ...”
Max cuts him off with an imperious wave, turning his attention fully to you. Your expression is a mixture of shock, curiosity, and — though Max certainly doesn’t dare name it — just maybe a tiny flicker of attraction in return.
“You asked me to try and understand your perspective. Fine, I’ll take you up on that dinner.” He looks you squarely in the eye, expression unreadable. “But you have to promise to hear me out too. No judgements, no protests. Just two people trying to figure out how to make the world better in their own ways.”
You stare searchingly at him for a prolonged moment. Then a slow, wondering smile spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes in the most disarmingly beautiful way. You give a small nod.
“Deal. I’ll keep an open mind if you do.”
Max finds himself returning the smile before he can stop himself. “Deal.”
He doesn’t know why this odd, passionate woman has gotten under his skin so quickly. Or why he suddenly cares what some environmental activist thinks of his choices. But as you take his proffered hand and he helps you step carefully away from the cluster of protestors, Max feels an unfamiliar stirring of hope. Maybe there’s more to this situation — and to you — than meets the eye.
The sergeant looks between you two skeptically, but seems to think better of pressing the issue further with Max’s steely gaze trained on him. With a resigned sigh, he waves his officers back.
“Alright, we’re going to let this one go. But I better not catch you trespassing and causing problems again, you hear?” He jabs a meaty finger at you in warning.
You just smile serenely, still not releasing Max’s hand. “No worries, officer. I have a dinner to get ready for.”
As the police pull away, you turn that brilliant grin on Max again. He finds himself returning it almost against his will, captivated by the fire that dances behind your eyes. For the first time, he wonders if going toe-to-toe with an idealistic environmental warrior might actually be worth momentarily putting his own deeply-held beliefs aside.
Stepping in close, you surprise him by leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “Thanks for playing along back there. I owe you one, Max Verstappen.”
The warm breath tickling his neck sends an unexpected shiver down his spine. You pull back with a mischievous wink before turning and rejoining your fellow activists, hips swaying in a tantalizing way that has Max’s gaze lingering perhaps a moment too long.
As he watches you go, Max can’t shake the strangest sense that he’s suddenly entered uncharted territory. And that this is only the beginning of you continually barging into his life and turning everything deliciously upside down.
***
Max lets out a grunt as he heaves the heavy barbell up over his head, sweat beading on his brow from the intense weight training session. After securing the bar back on its rack, he straightens and grabs a towel to wipe his face.
His phone starts ringing from across the room, an unknown number flashing on the screen. Max debates letting it go to voicemail but finally relents with a resigned sigh, scooping up the device.
“Yeah, hello?”
There’s a brief silence before an automated voice responds. “This is a call from a corrections facility. To accept charges and connect this call, press 1.”
Max frowns, caught off guard. He presses 1 warily, curiosity getting the better of him. The line clicks and then a new, very familiar voice comes through.
“Max! Oh thank god you picked up.” It’s you, sounding mildly frazzled but still unmistakably your unique blend of passion and composure.
A surprised laugh escapes Max’s lips before he can stop it. “You? Calling me from jail? This I’ve got to hear.”
“Don’t sound so delighted,” you chide, though he can hear the smile in your voice. “Yes, I’m in a bit of a situation here. You remember the big event we had been planning to protest that oil baron’s ridiculous superyacht docking in Monaco?”
Max raises an eyebrow even though you can’t see it. “The one where you said, and I quote, ‘No Max, you can’t come. Your pouty little rich boy face is just going to distract everyone from the real injustice we’re protesting here.’“
“... Yes, that one.” You don’t miss a beat. “Well, we may have taken things a step too far. The police showed up and arrested all of us for trespassing and disturbing the peace.”
“You don’t say?” Max leans back against the weight bench, a teasing lilt to his voice. “So let me get this straight — you got yourself chucked in the slammer for causing your signature environmentalist dramatics, and now you’re calling me to help get you out?”
There’s a slight pause before you respond, tone turning softer. “I didn’t want to call Seb. You know how he gets — he’ll just give me that disappointed head shake and lecture about being more responsible. Acting like I’m still a reckless teenager instead of a grown woman fighting for a noble cause.”
Max feels a small pang at the uncharacteristic wistfulness in your voice. For all your sparring back and forth, he knows how much your activist work means to you. And how tirelessly you dedicate yourself to it, often at the expense of other aspects of life.
Chewing his lip, he considers his next words carefully. “I may give you endless shit about being a tree-hugging rebel without a cause, but you know I actually respect what you’re doing, right? Even if your methods are … shall we say, dramatic.”
You let out a small surprised huff of laughter at that. “Did Max Verstappen just pay me something resembling a genuine compliment? Aww, you really do care.”
Max rolls his eyes at the teasing, though his lips quirk in a reluctant smile. Something about your back-and-forth banter has a way of putting him at ease in a way he doesn’t quite understand.
“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m still holding out hope this is just a pesky phase before you eventually come to your senses and realize the error of your ways.”
“Fat chance, hot shot.” The warm amusement in your tone is impossible to miss. “But anyway, since you’re in such a generous mood — think you can do me a favor and come bail me out?”
Max hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, bringing you home with me seems like a surefire way to get your activist cooties all over my ridiculously expensive non-vegan furniture.”
“Max ...” You let out an exaggerated whine that has him fighting back another grin. “Come on, I’m begging you here! I’ll be a model prisoner, I swear.”
Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Max pushes off from the bench and starts grabbing his shoes and keys. “Fine, fine. Twist my arm, why don’t you? I’ll be there in twenty minutes to ply your jailers with my generous pile of my money and spring you from the clink.”
You let out a squeal of delight that has his heart doing an odd little flip despite himself. “You’re the best, Max! Seriously, I owe you huge after this.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to make a habit of it. This is a one-time kind of deal.”
The two of you say your brief goodbyes and Max hangs up, head shaking in bemusement. He’s not sure when his friendship with the passionate eco-warrior became so effortlessly comfortable, bantering back and forth like a long-married couple.
But he also can’t deny the way his pulse kicks up just slightly at the thought of seeing you again — windswept hair, fiery eyes, and that bright smile that still catches him off guard every time it’s directed his way.
As Max jogs out to the garage to grab his Ferrari for the short drive to the station, he vehemently tells himself it’s merely because he’s intrigued by the novelty of your clashing personalities. That your relentless conviction is a fascinating change of pace from the empty glamor that usually surrounds him.
But a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispers that he’s lying to himself. That there’s something magnetically addictive about you and your tireless ability to see the world through a different lens than his own. Something that challenges him, stimulates him, reels him in over and over again no matter how much he pretends to resist.
He quickly banishes the thought, jaw setting in stubborn determination. Max Verstappen isn’t the type to get pulled into a girl’s orbit, no matter how intriguing she might seem on the surface. He’ll bail your reckless ass out of jail, have another enjoyable round of opposition-attracts banter, and then carry on with his usual life of racing and living by his own well-established rules.
Right?
The sleek crimson SF90 Stradale tears through the winding Monaco streets, wind whipping through Max’s hair as he pushes the pedal towards the floor. The adrenaline pumping through his veins feels vaguely familiar to the thrill of a heated race — though he refuses to dwell too deeply on why bailing out an eco-terrorist gives him that same edge-of-the-seat excitement.
He pulls up to the modest local jail in record time, the guard at the entrance giving him a skeptical once-over before waving him through. No doubt recognizing the signature Ferrari and flashy persona of the championship-winning driver.
Max swaggers up to the front desk where a bored-looking officer sits shuffling through paperwork. The young man startles at his approach, shooting to attention with widened eyes.
“Oh! Mr. Verstappen, sir! How can I help you today?”
Puffing out his chest just slightly, Max gives the officer his most imposing stare. “Yeah, I’m here to post bail for one of your … residents. Y/N Vettel.”
The cop’s brow furrows as he scans the intake files. “Ah yes, here she is. Environmental activist, part of that big protest at the marina. Disturbing the peace, trespassing, and a few of them even got hit with property damage charges from graffiti.”
Max scowls, that damned protective streak rearing its ugly head again before he can stop it. “I’m only posting bail for Y/N Vettel. The hell did she get charged with?”
“Just peaceful trespassing and disturbing the peace.” The cop frowns contemplatively. “Well, and resisting arrest when she tried to stop us cuffing one of her friends. But that’s about it.”
Rubbing his temples with a pained sigh, Max can’t resist a rueful grin. “Yeah, that tracks. Listen, what’s it gonna cost me to grab her so I can get out of here?”
“For those charges? €1500 bond should cover it.”
Max scoffs at the paltry sum, already pulling out his monogrammed money clip and peeling off a stack of euros. “Whatever, here’s double. Keep the change for your trouble.”
The cop’s eyes widen almost comically, but he knows better than to question Max freaking Verstappen. Hurriedly taking the bills, he produces some paperwork for Max to sign and process the transaction.
“Alright Mr. Verstappen, just need your signature here and here. And if you’ll allow me to get your fingerprints as well for the release forms ...”
Max begrudgingly complies, wanting to get this circus over with as quickly as possible. He taps his foot impatiently as the officer takes his prints and finalizes everything in the computer system.
“Okay, all set. I’ll have one of the guards bring Miss Vettel around to the release lobby. Might be a few minutes.”
“Yeah, yeah, just hurry it up,” Max mutters distractedly.
He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall, letting his eyes drift shut for a brief moment as he tries to compose himself. Your voice rings in his ears, that unmistakable mixture of sheepishness and determination that seems to sum up your entire persona.
Goddamn it, why did you have to call him? Why couldn’t you have just phoned up your doting big brother like a normal person instead of dragging Max into this? Part of him wants to be annoyed at how easily you’re able to play him, batting those big eyes and pleading for his help like you knew he would give in.
But the thought of leaving you to stew in a dingy jail cell somehow makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Almost like he’d be letting you down in some weird, convoluted way. Ridiculous as the notion is, Max can’t deny this increasing pull you seem to have over him.
His eyes fly open as the door to the cellblocks finally opens, heavy footsteps approaching. Max takes an automatic step forward, pulse kicking up in anticipation despite himself.
And then you’re there. Hair tousled, t-shirt and jeans covered in smears of dirt and grass stains from the protest scuffle. But those defiant eyes are still ablaze, jaw set stubbornly as the guard leads you out in handcuffs.
“Max! You’re actually here!” Your face splits into a bright, surprised grin at the sight of him.
He tries and fails to suppress his own answering smile, raking an admittedly appreciative gaze over you from head to toe. “What, you didn’t think I’d show up for my favorite little jailbird?”
Shrugging nonchalantly, you flash him a sly look from under your lashes. “I don’t know, I had my doubts Mr. Bigshot Racer would sully his palms rescuing little old me.”
“Well, you know what they say.” Max steps in close, dropping his voice to a faux-seductive murmur as he leans towards you. Your eyes widen infinitesimally but you hold his gaze, seemingly transfixed. “I just can’t seem to quit you.”
You bite your lip in a badly suppressed grin at his corny line. “Did you seriously just incorrectly quote Brokeback Mountain at me right now?”
“Maybe.” He rocks back on his heels with a shameless wink. “Doesn’t make it any less true, does it?”
A delicate blush blooms across your cheeks in a way that has Max’s heart stuttering unexpectedly. The guard clears his throat loudly, shattering the moment between you.
“Erm, right. If you’ll just sign here for Miss Vettel’s release ...” He offers a clipboard to Max.
Tearing his eyes away from you with concentrated effort, Max scrawls his signature across the form. You watch him intently, an unreadable look flickering across your features for just a moment before the guard undoes your cuffs with a loud click.
You immediately bring your newly freed hands together, rubbing at the chafed skin of your wrists gingerly. Max’s jaw tightens at the sight.
“You good?” His tone is gruff with concern despite himself.
Glancing up, you give him a reassuring smile and nod. “All good, just a little tender. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
Something about your easy dismissal of the discomfort rankles Max in a way he can’t fully explain. Like he wants to grab your hands, bring them to his lips to inspect the damage more closely. The sudden urge catches him off guard and he quickly tamps it down, fists clenching at his sides.
The guard seems oblivious to the undercurrent between you, simply giving a curt nod and motioning towards the exit. “Right then, off you go. And try to stay out of trouble from now on, Miss Vettel.”
You shoot the cop your signature wry grin. “No promises, officer.”
Rolling his eyes skyward, Max grabs your elbow lightly and ushers you towards the doors before you can cause any more scenes. You fall into step beside him easily, shoulders brushing in a way that has his skin tingling with awareness.
As the two of you step out into the late afternoon sunlight, you turn to him with those warm eyes that never fail to set his heart racing just a little faster.
“I really do owe you one, Max. Thank you for coming to my rescue, even after everything“
He gives an exaggerated huff, fighting a smile. “Well, it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta bail out all the reckless idiots who can’t stay out of handcuffs for five minutes.”
You laugh brightly, punching his arm in playful admonishment. A spark of electricity seems to jolt between you at the contact and Max freezes almost imperceptibly, mesmerized by the radiant smile you’re beaming up at him.
In that moment, with the sunlight catching in your hair and reflecting those fierce, captivating eyes, Max is struck by how breathtakingly beautiful you are. Not just physically, though that’s certainly undeniable. But the whole intoxicating aura of your idealism, your passion, your relentless fighting spirit that leaves him in a constant state of incredulous attraction no matter how much he rails against it.
You cock your head slightly, drawing him out of his reverie. “Max? You still in there?”
“Huh?” He blinks dazedly before recovering with a shake of his head, shoving his hands into his pockets in what he desperately hopes is a casual gesture. “Yeah, no, I’m good. Just thinking.”
Your brow furrows in concern as you study his face intently. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” Max clears his throat, avoiding your piercing gaze. He nods jerkily towards the car glinting fetchingly in the sun. “Come on, let’s get out of here before they decide to re-arrest your ass for loitering.”
As the two of you make your way across the parking lot, Max resolutely ignores the persistent voice whispering that he’s in deeper than he’s willing to admit this time. That you might just be addictive enough to become something he can’t simply shake off when he’s had his fill.
But rather than finding the notion disconcerting like it should be, he finds himself fighting the strangest flicker of excitement at the prospect instead.
***
The Monaco paddock is a dizzying whirlwind of activity as teams and personnel rush about in their usual pre-race frenzy. Max weaves through the chaos towards his driver room, helmet tucked under his arm.
He pauses as a familiar voice reaches his ears — that unmistakable passionate cadence that always has a way of stopping him in his tracks these days. Max turns to see you holding court in the middle of a cluster of wide-eyed engineers and PR reps, gesticulating emphatically.
“... and that’s just the start! We also need to look into renewable energy sources to power the entire paddock operations. Sustainable cooking practices in the hospitality suites. Comprehensive recycling and composting initiatives. Not to mention overhauling the travel logistics for a lower carbon footprint when we’re shipping this whole circus around the globe every other week.”
One of the hapless reps looks shellshocked, struggling to keep up as he scribbles notes furiously. “I … yes, of course, Miss Vettel. We’ll look into all of that right away. Anything else?”
You fix the poor man with one of your signature intense stares, full lower lip catching between your teeth as you consider. Max feels his heart skip at the seemingly insignificant gesture, cursing under his breath.
“Well, we haven’t even touched on sustainable sourcing for uniforms and merchandising yet. Or the complete overhaul needed for fuel compositions and racing technology to align with a realistic net-zero roadmap.” Your eyes spark with renewed fervor. “But we can circle back on those aspects later. For now I want you to-”
Sensing an opening, the bewildered rep seizes his chance to politely extricate himself. “You know what, Miss Vettel? Why don’t I go gather all my notes on your suggestions so far and we can regroup for a more structured meeting on next steps? I’ll, uh, be in touch!”
He scampers off before you can protest, leaving the rest of the staffers gaping at you with a combination of terror and admiration. You just shake your head bemusedly, rolling your eyes skyward as you catch sight of Max watching from across the way.
“What?” You shrug innocently at his raised eyebrow, the very picture of angelic nonchalance. “Someone’s got to light a fire under these people if we want to actually get some sustainability practices in place.”
Max bites back a grin, sauntering over with exaggerated slowness. “Is that what you call demolishing that poor rep’s entire understanding of the world? Just lighting a fire?”
“Hey, we’re not being paid to settle for complacency and half-measures,” you shoot back without a shred of remorse. “I got hired to shake this whole damn organization to its core until it goes fully carbon neutral. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Your unapologetic defiance never fails to send a peculiar thrill zinging through Max’s veins. He rakes an admittedly assessing gaze over your crisp pantsuit and loosely swept updo — quite a change from the scruffy activist’s getup he’s so used to seeing you in.
“You clean up nice, I’ll give you that,” he muses teasingly. “Who knew you could look so respectable in professional garb?”
Rather than rise to the bait, you simply flash him a wink and smoothing your hands over the fitted blazer, drawing his gaze helplessly to the enticing curves beneath the tailored lines. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”
Heat prickles at the base of Max’s neck at the unexpected flirtiness, his tongue suddenly thick and useless in his mouth. He quickly masks the moment of flustered silence with a dismissive scoff.
“Great, so in addition to harassing race staff you’re assaulting my senses too? Good to know where your priorities lie, Vettel.”
You laugh easily, canting a hip as you fix him with those dancing eyes that never fail to set his heart racing. “If you can’t handle a little playful banter, Verstappen, you’d better get used to keeping your distance now that we’re colleagues for the foreseeable future.”
The words slam into Max with surprising force, hitting a little too close to the bone. Unconsciously, his gaze darts over you in a way that feels far too intimate for mere colleagues. Lingering on the delicate curve of your neck as you tip your head back, the lush pout of your lips, the swaying tendrils of hair escaping your updo which he inexplicably longs to brush back into place.
All at once the reality of your new role truly sinks in — that he’ll be seeing you at every single race from now until god knows when. The thought fills Max with a dizzying blend of elation and trepidation.
On one hand, the prospect of having you perpetually woven through his life in this shiny new professional capacity is enough to make his pulse kick up in giddy anticipation.
But on the other, it terrifies him to his core. You have an uncanny ability to constantly keep him off-balance, as endlessly fascinating as you are maddening. This casual flirtation between you has taken on undercurrents he’s no longer certain he wants to shy away from acknowledging. At least, not when the thought of shutting it down fills Max with a hollow ache he can’t put words to.
He’s pulled from his spiraling reflections as an impeccably dressed older man in a crisp suit materializes at your side, placing a wizened hand on your shoulder.
“Ah, there you are, Miss Vettel! I was just coming to fetch you for our preliminary sustainability council meeting with the rest of the advisory board.” The man’s eyes twinkle with unmistakable approval as he regards you. “Although from the looks of it you’ve already started getting the lay of the land around here and, ah, asserting your new directives shall we say?”
You shoot him a conspiratorial grin, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “Let’s just say I’ve had a productive first day on the job so far, Mr. Haywood. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”
Max recognizes the man as Stephen Haywood, one of the senior F1 board members and the person primarily responsible for bringing you on in this ground-breaking new eco initiative. He chuckles indulgently at your quip.
“That’s exactly what we’re counting on from you, my dear. Ruffling some feathers and dragging this whole operation into the future, come hell or high water. I have the utmost confidence you’re going to revolutionize Formula 1 in ways we can’t even conceive yet.”
You beam at the praise, visibly swelling with determination. Haywood gives your shoulder another squeeze before gesturing down the paddock. “Shall we? We’ve got a long agenda ahead to tackle your big plans.”
“Absolutely,” you say eagerly, turning to follow him. But not before pausing to shoot Max one last heated look from over your shoulder, dropping your voice to a sultry murmur. “Don’t go too far, Verstappen. I’ve still got plenty more to say to you later.”
And with a tantalizing wink, you sashay away after Haywood in that maddeningly hypnotic way that you know reduces Max to an incoherent mess every time. All he can do is gape after your retreating figure, the sway of those hips in that perfectly tailored skirt rendering him utterly useless.
As you disappear around the corner, Max feels the dam inside him finally burst in a torrential flood of overwhelming emotion. Everything suddenly clicks into startling clarity in one shuddering epiphany that leaves him unmoored:
He’s in love with you.
Desperately, all-consumingly, recklessly in love in a way he never saw coming and is wholly unprepared to process. All those months pretending you were just an amusing diversion, a source of intrigue and refreshing friction in his otherwise orderly life. All the times he battled against the obvious chemistry simmering between you, tried to downplay it as mere physical attraction between opposing forces.
But now it washes over Max in one shattering wave of truth — the way his world tilts off-axis whenever you’re around, the gravity of your presence drawing him in against his will. How thoroughly and irrevocably you’ve embedded yourself under his skin without him ever truly realizing it was happening until now.
He grips the wall for support, legs feeling abruptly unsteady as his head spins. How is he supposed to reconcile this revelation? That his heart now lies so completely in the hands of this fierce, untamable woman utterly hellbent on dismantling and revolutionizing his entire life’s work in the name of environmentalism.
The delicious contradictions of having fallen for someone whose core values and purpose seem to exist in such direct opposition to his own are enough to make Max’s head throb dizzily. You are his antithesis in so many ways — that headstrong passion a perpetual thorn in his side, continually pushing and prodding him out of his self-imposed boundaries.
And yet … he couldn’t be more completely enthralled.
It’s that relentless challenging of his beliefs, that refusal to settle for complacency, that has drawn Max in and held him captivated against his will from the very beginning. In you he’s found a riveting counterpoint to the blinkered single-mindedness of his existence, a refreshing perspective that somehow makes him want to be a bigger, better version of himself.
Even now, just the phantom echo of your parting words has him straightening unconsciously, feeling almost chastened and bereft in the wake of your absence. Max has never been one to dwell on his emotions, preferring to analyze and compartmentalize until they’re boxed away into neat, manageable parcels.
But this all-encompassing feeling storming through him in your wake is anything but neat or manageable. It’s wild and catastrophic, crackling with the dangerous intensity of a lightning strike clawing its way across the horizon in slow motion.
Just the thought of looking into those blazing eyes and owning the truth of his feelings for you sends Max into a panic, chest squeezing with anxious breath. You have always seen through his feigned nonchalance, cut straight through to the bone with that penetrating stare. He has no idea how to even begin existing openly in the same space as you without his heart shining through brazenly for the entire world to witness.
His fist clenches against the cold metal of the garage wall as an irrational surge of bitterness lances through him. How dare you just sweep into his rigidly controlled life with all that blistering confidence and conviction, making him feel things he never wanted to feel? Upending his carefully maintained reality without a second thought, all in the name of your damned causes?
You weren’t supposed to get this far under his skin. He was just supposed to have a bit of fun, indulge in your company as a momentary diversion at most. And now Max is in so disastrously deep that he has no idea how to drag himself back out.
He doesn’t know how long he stands there warring with himself, torn between exhilarated possibility and vehement denial. What he does know is that his entire world has been turned upside down. And despite the terror rattling his bones, despite the desperate urge to somehow ignore the sheer enormity of this jolt to his system … he can’t muster the will to try and wrestle back control.
Not when the thrill of finally surrendering to you sends such intoxicating electricity crackling through every fiber of his being.
Max peels himself from the wall with renewed resolve, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He needs to steel himself, because avoiding you is clearly no longer an option. Not when your irresistible pull is only amplified now that you’ll be a near-permanent fixture in his life.
He has to face this head-on, confront the exhilarating chaos you’ve wrought in his carefully cultivated existence. Which means pushing down the churning jumble of emotions rattling around in his ribcage before they become too overwhelming.
“Get a grip, man,” Max mutters sternly to himself, knocking the heel of his palm against his temple as if to physically dislodge his internal storm. “It’s just Vettel. You’ve dealt with her shit-stirring antics a million times before. You can handle this new ... development.”
His words carry neither confidence nor conviction, but Max forges on anyway, straightening his shoulders as he plunges back into the fray of the paddock. If he can just maintain some semblance of outward equilibrium, he can get through this.
One foot in front of the other, he winds past the crowd towards his driver’s room as if in a trance. Any minute now, you’ll saunter back through in that mouthwateringly crisp ensemble, eyes bright with hard-won strategy and single minded intent.
And Max will just … what? Calmly confront you as if his entire understanding of your dynamic hasn’t undergone a seismic fucking shift in the last five minutes?
He barks out a mirthless laugh at the impossibility of such a scenario. Any pretense of indifference has surely been shattered between you now. All his meager attempts at deflecting through banter and heated bickering ring hollow to his own ears after this shattering realization.
No, for better or worse, Max has finally tumbled over that precipice he’d been teetering on for so long when it comes to you. Now more than ever before, he dreads and craves the prospect of your next meeting in equal, searing measure.
Because whether he’s ready or not … whether he thinks he can handle the fallout or not … you’ll be able to read every devastating truth written across his face this time.
When your paths inevitably cross again, Max knows there will be no more hiding from you the shift of feelings you’ve unleashed within him.
This time, he’ll be entirely and terrifyingly laid bare.
***
Three Years Later
The crisp mountain air fills Max’s lungs as he straightens up, wiping a trickle of sweat from his brow with a satisfied smile. The freshly tilled soil stretches before him in neat rows, ready and waiting to nurture the seeds you meticulously selected.
“Nice work, Mein Löwe,” you call approvingly from across the yard, one hand resting on the swell of your pregnant belly. “That plot is going to be perfect for all our veggies.”
Max’s chest warms at the undisguised pride in your voice as you survey his handiwork. Just a few years ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of voluntarily getting his hands dirty like this. But ever since that fateful day at the airport … everything has changed.
“Yeah, well, be sure to put me to work weeding and watering too,” he shoots back with an easy grin. “Gotta earn my keep as the cabana boy around here.”
You roll your eyes in playful exasperation even as an affectionate smile tugs at your lips. “I’ll be sure to get you a tiny little outfit.”
The teasing remark might have once pricked Max’s fragile ego. But now he simply shakes his head with a low chuckle, marveling at how natural, how right it feels to be the subject of your gentle ribbing. In the years since that first charged encounter, your barbs have sanded down his prickly edges until only his core of wry tenderness remains.
You cross the yard toward him, sunlight glinting off the tousled tendrils of hair that frame your face. Up close, Max can make out the dark crescent smudges under your eyes from many sleepless nights spent mapping out plans for this property — from the aerogel insulation in the walls to the extensive geothermal heating system to the solar panels spanning the roof.
Most people would have long ago surrendered in exhaustion when presented with building the world’s most environmentally sustainable home from the ground up. But not you. You had steadfastly urged him onward, determined to make this place a paragon of renewable living for your growing family.
His growing family, Max mentally corrects himself with a jolt of surprise that still hasn’t faded, even after all this time.
As if reading his mind, you pause before him, gently taking his calloused hands in yours. “Think you can handle planting all those seedlings tomorrow without me? The back pains are really kicking my ass lately.”
Max’s lips quirk upwards at the feisty lilt to your voice. “Getting a little too old to be bending over in the dirt for hours, liefje?”
“Hey, watch it!” You protest with a laugh, playfully batting at his chest. “I’m literally growing an entire human here. Maybe have some sympathy for your poor wife?”
“Alright, alright,” Max chuckles, sliding his hands reverently over the swollen curve of your belly. A sense of awe washes over him, just as it does each time he’s reminded of the incredible miracle blooming inside you — a tiny life that is half him, half this fierce, passionate woman he once couldn’t stand.
He leans in to press his forehead tenderly to yours. “I’ve got it all covered tomorrow. Why don’t you take it easy for once?”
You let out a derisive snort at the suggestion. “Yeah, like that’ll happen. Maybe if you massage my back tonight, though ...”
“Deal,” Max murmurs without hesitation, tilting his head to steal a lingering kiss.
Your lips are soft and pliant against his, still electrifying even after all this time. Max marvels yet again at this strange, thrilling new world you’ve ushered him into — one of quiet moments and domesticity and fulfillment. A world that his former self, obsessed with roaring engines and adrenaline, could have never envisioned.
But even as your mouths move in that timeless, familiar dance, Max’s mind drifts back to that fateful first encounter outside his jet all those years ago. The sheer force of your convictions had rocked him to his core then, cracking open the crusty shell around his heart. And before he could blink, you had blossomed into so much more than an impassioned activist — a friend, a confidante, a lover … and now the mother of his unborn child.
At last, you pull away with a contented sigh, cradling Max’s face in your tender palms. “Have I told you lately how grateful I am for you?”
“Once or twice,” he teases gruffly, though his chest clenches with an all too familiar ardor. “But you know I never get tired of hearing it, schatje.”
You beam up at him with utter adoration shining in your eyes. A look that never fails to disarm Max straight to his core. How had it taken so many years of chasing empty accolades for him to finally find this all-encompassing serenity?
“I just ...” You pause, worrying your full lower lip between your teeth. A sure sign you’re struggling to untangle an emotion webbed with complexity. “I never imagined I could be this … content.”
Your gaze drifts wistfully across the sweeping valley before your mountainside property, the majestic peaks dusted with snow on the horizon. For a beat, Max envisions it all through your eyes — the staggering beauty of this utopia you’ve carved out for your budding family, its self-sustaining existence treading as lightly on the earth as possible.
“After so many years fighting and railing against the system, to find this pocket of peace ...” You shake your head slowly, almost deliriously. “It’s more than I could have dreamed.”
Inexplicably, Max feels his eyes prickling with a sudden thickness at your reverent murmur. A lump forms in his throat, welling with all the indescribable gratitude and tenderness that still threatens to overwhelm him at times like this.
“You know,” he rasps out at last, tracing his thumb reverently over the sharp line of your jaw. “After that day at the airport in Nice … I tried so hard to shake the way you made me feel.”
A wistful smile plays across your lips at the memory as your eyes meet his in silent invitation. You’re hanging on his every word now — a state Max still struggles to wrap his mind around at times.
“No matter what I did, or where I traveled, part of me couldn’t escape your voice in my head,” Max continues, pushing through the lump in his throat. “Demanding that I question my way of life, open my eyes to how careless I had been.”
You nod slowly in recognition, lacing your fingers through his. The remembered combativeness from that long ago confrontation has faded now, giving way only to understanding between the two people who recognize each other most profoundly.
“At first, I just tried blocking you out,” Max admits with a rueful chuckle. He dips his head until your foreheads are brushing again as his voice lowers to an intimate rasp. “But the more I pushed you away, the deeper you burrowed inside me. Until I finally stopped fighting it and just … listened.”
He feels your sharp inhale as his words skate warmth down your skin. Slowly, almost unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his in solidarity.
“And look at us now,” you murmur at last, awestruck and achingly tender all at once.
In your eyes, Max glimpses the past, present and future stretching out in dizzying symmetry — those first fierce sparks of passion blossoming into the steadfast love that shelters your growing family. He sees the painstaking nurturing required to transform a confrontation into a partnership over years of effort and understanding.
Most of all, he sees the promise of new dawns yet to come, with each one awakening to your cherished, reverent teachings about the earth’s splendor and fragility.
His heart clenches fit to burst as Max drinks in your beauty — flushed and glowing with new life, still beaming with that incandescent fire that had first seared into his soul. Only now, it burns only for him, a flame stoking devotion and passion and sanctuary.
Just as Max leans in to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, the shrill chime of the doorbell shatters the moment. You spring apart with a breathless laugh.
“Fuck, I forgot Seb was supposed to be coming over today!” You give Max’s chest one last pat before turning toward the house, waddling slightly with the added weight of your pregnant belly.
Max grins fondly, trailing after you at a more leisurely pace. He can’t resist one last admiring glance over his shoulder at the pristine vegetable garden stretching behind the cottage — an oasis of sustainable beauty, just like the life you’ve created here.
As you reach the front door, pulling it open eagerly, Sebastian’s familiar lopsided grin greets you both from the other side. Your brother’s eyes immediately zero in on your rounded midsection, his expression melting into one of pure adoration.
“Oh, Bärchen, you’re positively glowing!” He exclaims, sweeping you into a gentle hug. “How’s my little niece or nephew treating their mom?”
You let out a dramatic groan, leaning back to shoot Max an exaggerated look of suffering. “This kid’s already high maintenance, just like their father. I’ve got swollen ankles, back pains, you name it.”
“Hey now,” Max interjects with a chuckle, sidling up to join the familiar banter. He claps Sebastian’s shoulder affectionately. “If they end up being anything like you in the baby stage, we’re in for a whole new world of sleep deprivation.”
Sebastian returns the grin, unfazed. “Like you aren’t an even bigger handful than me.”
You snort indelicately, looping your arm through Max’s as you shuffle back to allow Sebastian inside. “Are you kidding? With my influence, this baby will be an expert environmentalist before they’re out of diapers.”
“You wish,” Max shoots back with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. He knows better than anyone the depth of your convictions — and appreciates them more than he can put words to.
As the three of you bicker playfully, Max’s chest fills with an overwhelming sense of contentment. Just a few years ago, he could have scarcely imagined this scenario — the love of his life heavy with his child, her doting brother at their side, their sprawling eco-paradise as the idyllic backdrop.
But now, as he guides you both into the spacious, sunlit living room, Max knows without a doubt that this is exactly where he belongs.
Here, sheltered in the passionate wake of your ceaseless quest to better the world. Here, in the eye of the storm you had first raged into his life, upending everything until his soul had no choice but to still and listen.
You shoot him a private smile, reading his thoughts as easily as breathing. In your bright eyes, Max sees the future stretching out blissfully — a path paved by your determined heart that he will gladly tread in partnership forever.
All because on one fateful day, you had dared to make him question everything. And in doing so, unveiled the peace and purpose he never knew he craved.
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neo-novaa · 2 years ago
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pretty boy
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*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ethan landry x reader
*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drinking/drunk characters, slightly very suggestive ending, no spoilers :)
*ੈ✩ 𝐚/𝐧: he is so babygirl
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you’re on his lap, hands lost in his hair, his twitching around your waist.  your teeth clash as you’re desperately pulling at each other to get as much contact as possible. his lips still taste like cheap vodka, and you’re sure yours tastes the same; through all his noise, you can still hear the party raging on only a few floors down. 
you pull away to catch your breath, and your fingers are gently tracing the edges of ethans face. he’s nearly panting, his breathing always gets so husky when he’s making out with you.
ethan moved to bring your lips to his, but you’re gently pushing on his shoulders. 
“no, no—stop,” you whisper, cradling his face in your hands. “lemme just…look at you.”
you’re drunk. you’re really drunk. and as much as you want to kiss him, an even greater part of you just wants to look at him. 
you trace his features; the soft wrinkles on his forehead, his prominent brow bone, the slight bags beneath his eyes and the almost invisible freckles just below them. you obsess over them. 
“what are you doing?” ethan slurs, trying to escape your grasp. 
“you’re pretty…” you’re mumbling to yourself. even through ethan’s silent protests you’re worship every detail of his face. 
“you’re drunk.” he retaliates while you gently thumb his cheekbones. 
“yeah, but i’m also right.” you scoff, grabbing ethans chin and yanking him towards you, rewarding him with a soft kiss on his cheek. 
but you quickly return to mapping his skin, murmuring soft praise that even you weren’t aware of. 
but ethan was. he was very, very aware of it. 
“s’pretty,” your words slur together, coming out as soon as you’re able to think them. 
“did you know that? y’so pretty ethan…” you’re gently running your thumbs along his lips, and ethan’s eyes are locked on yours. 
“pretty boy…my pretty boy…” your fingers reach his neck and you trace the edges of ethans adams apple. you admire the way it hitches when you compliment him. 
“you’re not too bad yourself,” he replies, nervously, and after nearly a minute of silence on your part. if you were only half as drunk as you were now, you might’ve been able to catch that gap, and pieced together that ethan almost definitely had to hype himself up to say something like that. 
“oh yeah?” you straighten your back and your hands finally stop: one palm pressing into his chest, the other resting at the crook of his neck. you finally meet ethan’s gaze through glassy and half-lidded eyes.
you can feel his heart pounding beneath your fingertips. 
you pull his lips to yours and ethan melts in the kiss. it’s nothing like the tooth and tongue from mere moments ago. it’s soft, languid, as if you have all the time in the world. 
but unfortunately, and rather obviously, you don’t. 
ethan had just finally worked up the courage to slide a hand under the hem of your shirt when the door swings open. 
ah. it’s chad. and he’s so clearly, visibly, ostensibly drunk. 
“yo someone just brought, like, three fucking keggers. i don’t give a shit about what you guys are doing you have got to get down here!”
at least he has the common courtesy to close the door behind him.  
you look back to ethan, his warm hands firm on your waist, those dilated puppy dog eyes looking up at you. 
“you’re not going anywhere.” he murmurs firmly, pressing his lips to your skin. “especially not after calling me all those names.”
and yeah, maybe you’ll miss out on the best kegger this university will ever have, but at least you could say you were fucking your boyfriend instead. 
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uluvjay · 1 month ago
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Oh Bunny- S. Vettel & J. Button
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Sebastian Vettel x younger! Fem reader x Jenson Button
In which the boys have to teach their little bunny another lesson
Warnings?; age gap(reader is in her 20’s), reader is the daughter of a retired driver but no names are specified, unprotected sex(a big no no!), spanking, oral (m receiving), p in v, slight manipulation.., penetrative sex, basically porn without a plot! Sorry for any errors!
Day 2 of my Kinktober special!
A sort of part two to this fic!
“Dad?” You called out as you entered the large kitchen, oblivious to the two men that were stood against the counter due to your face being shoved in your phone.
“Well I don’t know about you mate but that’s not what I’m used to hearing her call us.”
The sound of a thick English accent had your head snapping up, standing at the counter nursing two glasses of whiskey were Jenson and Sebastian.
Suddenly your cheeks were hot and you felt exposed, your tight corset and little skirt not leaving much to the imagination.
The slutty knee high socks with the little bows didn’t help, you didn’t know why you felt so shy in front of the two men, they’d seen it all before.
“W-where’s my dad?” You questioned, cursing in your head at the way it came out shaky.
“In his office, had an important call to take.” Sebastian spoke up this time, his sharp eyes running all along your body.
You groaned inwardly, knowing that if he took a call while two of his closest friends were here then it really was important and he more than likely wouldn’t be returning for a while.
“Will you tell him I left when he comes back?” You asked the two men, sliding on your bunny ears and tucking your phone in your clutch.
“Where are you going?” The Brit asked, his eyes strong as his brows furrowed slightly.
“To a party with my friends from uni.” You replied with a shrug.
Sebastian’s hand that was moving his glass of whiskey to his lips stilled, blue eyes growing dark as he heard your words.
“Dressed like that?”
You felt yourself shrink at his tone, the confidence that filled your body just a few minutes ago completely gone.
“W-what’s wrong with it?” You mumbled, looking yourself over.
“Oh bunny, nothings wrong with it. You look absolutely ravishing.” Jenson chuckled, the evident boner in his pants fully backing his claims.
“It’s just don’t you think it’s a little revealing?” He continued, making his way around the counter to stand over you.
Jenson felt his cock twitch at the way your doe eyes looked up at him, full of innocence and confusion.
“It’s just a costume.” You shrugged, not sure what their point was.
You heard Sebastian scoff from where he stood, his blue eyes rolling as he spoke up, “Yeah, a slutty one.”
Your eyes dropped at his words, fingers playing anxiously with your skirt as you racked your brain for some kind of reply, you were about to open your mouth when a strop hand gripped your jaw.
Feeling your head being moved you now found Sebastian standing beside Jenson, both men towering over you with hunger in their eyes.
“I Think you should take it off honey, nobody needs to see you like that.” Jenson cooed, playing the good cop causing Sebastian to grumble under his breath.
“I guess you’re right..it is a little revealing.” You spoke.
Both men nodded in reply however as you went to move towards the staircase you felt a strong hand grip your wrist and pull you back to them.
“What are you doing? I have to change before my friends get here.” You spoke, eyes switching back and forth between the two men.
“Why don’t we take you? I drive past your university on my way home anyways, save your friends the trip.” Sebastian spoke up, his blue eyes locked on yours.
You agreed reluctantly, missing the smirk the two men shared when your turned your back to them and traveled up the stairs, both of them admiring the way your body looked in that damn costume.
You returned a few minutes later swapping your skirt and corset for a little white dress, the same knee high socks and white shoes on.
“Ready?” Jenson asked seeing you appear in front of them.
You nodded and soon the three of you were spilling out of your fathers large home and into Sebastian’s sleek white Mercedes, thankfully this one had a back seat and you wouldn’t be riding shot gun on Jensons lap again.
The two men talked for the whole ride, not once acknowledging you as they rambled on about life and what was going on in with the current formula one grid.
Seeing bodies and bodies of dressed up people flood sidewalks you realized you were close to your university and with the entrance right in view you perked up.
Moving to unbuckle your seatbelt you felt your heart speed up as the car sped past the entrance, looking back down the road and towards the front seat you spoke up.
“Uh Seb, you missed the entrance..”
“I know.”
You shivered at his deep voice, accent thick as his dark eyes met yours in the mirror.
There was a sinister smirk sitting on his face, drumming his thick fingers against the steering wheel as if everything happening was completely normal.
“What do you mean you know? Seb why didn’t you drop me off?” You asked.
“I mean I did it on purpose bunny, i think you need to be taught a lesson for trying to leave the house dressed how you were. Trying to show off what belongs to us.” He replied, his tone showing no sign of remorse or hesitation.
You opened your mouth to issue a complaint and argue back but the look he shot you in the mirror quickly shut you up. Your heart no longer being the only thing beating as you felt a dull thud begin between your thighs.
The rest of the car ride was silent, the only sound filling the car was the soft sound of the radio and your shares breathing.
Pulling into Sebastian’s large estate he parked the car in the driveway before getting out, hearing your door open you looked up to find Jenson.
You took his extended hand as he helped you out of the car. shutting the door behind you, you went to move past him but the Brit had other plans.
Pushing you against the side of the car he wasted no time before connecting your lips in a hot kiss, you squeaked in surprise but quickly returned his kiss after a second.
His large hands ran along your thighs for a moment before he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his middle, carrying you into the house without disconcerting your lips once.
He dropped you into Sebastian’s lush couch as you made it inside, your body bouncing from the drop.
Both men came to stand in front of you, large bodies towering over your smaller one as they stared down at you.
“What do you reckon we do with her?” Jenson asked.
“Well first, I’m putting her over my knee.” Sebastian smirked back, both men going on to talk about you as if you weren’t even there.
Sebastian moved to sit next to you, patting his lap as a signal for you to climb into his lap-which you did.
Laying across his strong thighs you hated the way the pulse between your legs sped up, your panties soaking wet with arousal.
“Ready bunny?” Seb questioned, flipping up the skirt of your dress, his hands running up and down the back of your thighs.
“Mhm” you nodded.
The first smack was sharp and quick, right on the lower part of your ass.
Jenson kneeled in front of you gripping your chin you turn your head towards him.
“Feeling good baby?” He smirked at the sound of your small moans that we’re breaking through despite your best attempt to stop them.
“You like when he smacks your ass don’t you pretty girl?” He questioned again.
“Yes! Feels good.” You whined.
After ten smacks Sebastian rubbed your ass in an attempt to soothe the marks before he pushed you to stand up on shaky legs.
Both men watched as you stumbled slightly, bumping into Jensons now standing form. The Brit grabbed you steadying your body as Sebastian trapped you between their strong bodies.
You breathing picked up as you watched jensons hands move to the top of your dress, pushing down the strapless material they both admired your bare body.
“Awe, looks like someone made a mess.” Sebastian cooed, eyes locked on the wetness that was smeared between your thighs.
They didn’t like when you dropped your head in embarrassment, Jenson quick to pick your head back up with a grip on your throat.
“Don’t be embarrassed baby, we love seeing how wet you get for us.” He whispered in your ear, dropping his hard facade for a moment as he kissed the side of your head softly.
Butterflies filled your stomach as his hands moved up and down your bare sides, fingers tickling your skin lightly.
“Come on bunny, let us get you into bed and show you who you belong to.” He breathed, eyes locking with Sebastian’s as they shared a smirk.
Sebastian picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom similar to how Jenson had just brought you into the house.
You let your lips move along the skin of his throat, kissing a trail from the column of his throat to his sweet spot just below his ear before nipping it slightly.
You squealed when his hand came down against your ass, a sign to tell you to knock it off.
Making it into the bedroom he dropped you on the bed before keeping his position between your legs, tugging down your cotton panties he tossed them towards Jenson who was sitting against the headboard.
You whimpered as you watched him bring the material to his nose, a deep groan escaping him as he took in your intoxicating scent.
“Smell so fucking good bunny” he grunted, keeping his eyes locked with yours.
You didn’t look away until you felt Sebastian’s fingers between your legs, his fingers running between your dripping folds bringing soft moans from your throat.
You watched as he pulled away, moving back to remove all his clothes he grabbed your ankles and flipped your body, positioning you onto your hands and knees.
You moaned as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, shared moans filling the room as he slid into your welcoming walls.
He gave you a second to adjust before he picked up his pace, hands gripping your hips as he pulled you back onto his cock to meet his strong thrusts.
“So tight for us bunny, all for us.” He groaned watching the way his cock glistened as it came out of you.
Your eyes were clenched shut as the pleasure flowed through your body, the build up from your earlier spanking pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm.
Feeling a soft hand grip your chin your eyes snapped open, looking up your eyes met with the tip of Jenson’s cock.
Licking your lips at the sight of the precum dripping from the swollen tip you dropped your mouth open without even having to be asked.
The older man smirked, sliding his cock into your warm mouthed groaned loudly at the feeling. Pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail he thrusted into your mouth.
He loved the way you gagged around him, reminding you to relax your throat he pushed his cock in as far as he could.
You moaned around him, the vibrations flowing through his body he swore he was gonna come right then and there.
They continued to share you Jenson only pulling out when you needed a break to breathe, your moans immediately filling the room as Sebastian hit the sensitive spot deep inside you.
“Im close! Can i please come?”
“Such a good girl bunny, go ahead. Come for us baby.” Sebastian groaned.
Jenson moved to pump his cock as he watched your orgasm rack through your body, your mouth opening in a silent scream, hands gripping Sebastian’s soft sheets in a death grip.
Even in your lusty haze you recognized the sound of Jenson’s hitching breath, knowing he was getting close you did your best to push up your exhausted body to take him back into your mouth.
“Fuck!” He moaned at the feeling of your wet tongue, body shaking as he reached his own climax, his warm cum filling your mouth.
He swore he felt his heart hiccup when you opened your mouth for him, showing him that you’d swallowed it like a good girl knowing that he loved it.
Behind you Sebastian was going crazy at the sight of the two of you mixed with the way your tight cunt hugged him so tight as you came all over him.
The slight ring your orgasm made at the base of his cock driving him wild, he felt himself getting closer and closer.
It wasn’t long before his hips were stuttering and a deep groan mixed with some cursing in German was coming from his throat as he came deep inside you.
The second he let go of your hips you feel flat on the mattress, you spent body sinking into his soft bed.
Both men admired you, the way your and Sebastian’s mixed cum trailed down your thigh, the slutty socks they’d forgotten to take off of you rolled at different lengths, your once perfect hair now tangled and messy.
You must’ve dozed off because the next thing you knew your body was submerged in hot water with a solid chest behind you.
Blinking your eyes open you found Sebastian sat in front of you caressing your leg as Jenson’s hands run up and down your bare stomach.
“Welcome back little one.” Sebastian smiled at the sight of your opening eyes.
“Hi” you smiled back.
“Have a good power nap.” Jenson’s softly chuckled behind you.
“Mhm.” You nodded, turning slightly to curl into his chest.
“How long was I out?”
“Maybe fifteen minutes, we figured you’d come back once we got you in the bath.” Jenson replied.
“You did so good for us tonight bunny.” Sebastian spoke up, the soft look of love in his eyes much different from his lusty gaze earlier.
“Thank you, I’m sorry if I upset you with my costume..” you replied.
“Nobody was upset honey, we loved it honestly. Just no other man needed to see you like that.” Jenson shrugged.
“You’re all ours bunny.” Sebastian smirked moving forward to kiss you lightly before settling back on his side.
You three stayed in there a bit longer before they got you out and ready for bed, they dressed you in a mix of their clothing before tucking you into freshly changed sheets and cuddling on each side of you.
These may have not have been your original plans for the evening, but you truly wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.
-
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