#and this man looks me in the eyes. says ''you can just have that you didn't have to wait in line''. hands me a large cup.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
You and Kento bustled through the kitchen, and with your arms full of plates, you couldn't resist giving the top of Yuuji's head a nuzzle and a kiss as you passed.
Yuuji smiled at you both, full and warm for the first time in years. You and Kento felt his eyes on you as you weaved past each other, in a practiced after-dinner-clean-up Tango.
"Ah...hey, Nanamin, I-- I've got, uh...I've got a, uhm..."
Kento's interest was piqued. He stopped washing up and, with one raised fine eyebrow, turned to regard Yuuji while he dried the suds off his forearms.
"What is is, Yuuji?"
Yuuji looked awkward. Eventually, he stuttered out through a sheepish grin.
"I've uh...I've got a date tomorrow, so I won't be home for dinner."
A gasp. A smash!clinkclinkclink as you dropped a mug to the floor, and Kento closed his eyes in wounded resignation for the death of his favourite mug. You stepped across him, pressing your palms to the counter, wild-eyed at Yuuji.
"A date?"
"Uh...y-yea--"
"A date date?"
"...I...Nanamin, I'm scared--"
"--she can't hurt you, Yuuji--"
"A date!"
You could barely contain your excitement; Kento huffed, plucking pieces of porcelain from the floor, while you squished Yuuji's cheeks and cooed.
Yuuji barely escaped in one piece that evening before bed, grilled for any piece of information you could get your hands on. Eventually, he escaped, the lock clicking behind him as he shut his bedroom door.
Flopping onto your back into bed beside Kento, with enough force to make his reading glasses bounce on his nose, you sighed with one dramatic arm across your forehead.
"I'm just so happy for him, Kento."
A warm little smile; a folding of the book. "Yeah. Yeah, me too. Did he say who it was?"
"You know, of all the things I asked him, I didn't ask him that."
A chuckle, a hum...a silence. A rustle of pages. A gentle removal of reading glasses, and Kento looked over you with quiet scrutiny, as if your state of undress in a t-shirt and nothing more stirred memories for him.
You blinked up at him, "...what's wrong?"
Kento's nose flared, and he laid down beside you, switching the light off. You could hear him blushing in the dark.
"Do you think Yuuji's a virgin?"
You felt a thud of realisation, and answered, "I...should think he probably is. I...what should we..."
"Don't worry," Kento answered, clipped and looping an arm over your waist, "I can handle that."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
"Yuuji. If you have a moment, could you come and speak to me, please?"
You felt an alarm bell in your soul. The sun was setting, on the evening of Yuuji's date, but Kento was still fully dressed. He'd even buttoned his suit jacket up and redone his tie. His pocket rustled. You could have sworn you saw a droplet of sweat drip down his temple.
You paused your murder documentary...and watched, for this would surely be more horrifying. Yuuji leaned round the bathroom door, innocently curious, and padded over with his hands in his pockets. He pulled out his phone.
"Ah...y-yeah, I think they'll be here in a minu--"
"Sit down. Please. Yuuji."
You could have sworn Kento left dents in the top of the chair that he grasped. Yuuji sat slowly, wary, looking between you and Kento. From your place on the sofa, you shrugged. Kento spoke.
"You're...a young man now, Yuuji."
"Ah...yeah. I-I guess I am. Thank--"
"--and sometimes young men have...urges."
You wished for death, but would take the entertainment before you expired. Yuuji's blush started at his chin, and climbed slowly upwards, a sun-ripening peach.
"...Nanamin. Please, you-- you don't have to do--"
"--and it's important to understand the difference between lust, and love."
"Oh god, Nanamin, I'm begging you--"
"--and while it's only natural to follow your urges, it's important to do so responsibly--"
"--Mrs.Nanamin, I'm scared--"
"--he can't hurt you, Yuuji--"
Kento pulled the rustling packet from his pocket, and placed it before Yuuji on the table. The room was thick with silence. Yuuji spoke, his voice breaking and his soul sweating.
"...Nanamin, please say that's candy--"
"I've bought you these condoms--"
"--please just let me die, Nanamin--"
"--ribbed, dots, big, small, strawberry I think--"
"--please-- I have to go--"
"--and I only ask that you're sensible and treat your partner with the respect and dignity they deserve--"
"--please treat me with the respect and dignity I deserve and just kill me Nanamin--"
"...and be home by midnight."
Silence. You had held your breath through the whole thing, and held one hand over your mouth. You studiously avoided Yuuji's gaze. Yuuji's mouth puckered, staring up at Nanami, who looked as serious as a car crash.
Yuuji's phone rang. He snatched it up, and made for the door. Kento called after him, mild, "Your condoms, Yuuji--"
"--oh well shit yeah can't forget those, fuck--"
"--language, Yuuji--"
Yuuji stood at the door, considering answering back. He took a single deep breath. He swallowed hard, and stopped himself from scarpering immediately, and turned back to Kento.
"Hey, uh...was that, erm...was that difficult for you, Nanamin?"
"It was the worst thing I've ever done in my life."
"Yeah, it--it felt it, uhm..." Yuuji waggled the bag of condoms with a smirk, pocketing them, "Thanks, dad. Nobara and Megumi are waiting. We'll go for a date, and the other idiot's our chaperone apparently."
As the door clicked closed, Kento released one great heaving breath, and arched back with his hands over his face, releasing an enormous, animalistic groan of agony.
You bubbled over, snickering, and traced one toe up Kento's thigh from behind.
"...oh hey, Mr.Nanami, sir, can you teach me about the birds and the bees--"
"Quiet."
#pseudowho#pseudowho answers you#haitch#kento nanami#jjk#nanami kento#jjk nanami#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#Papamin by Haitch#Papamin by pseudowho#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami x y/n#nanami#kento nanami smut#nanami fanart#nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x you#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#nanamin#yuji itadori#jjk itadori#jujutsu itadori
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Fanboy
Pairing: Law x Reader
NSFW
Summary: You get a little more than you bargained for when you decide to clean your Captain's office for him and stumble upon his smutty fanfiction. Warnings: Very Mild Angst, Smut, Fem!Reader, Roleplay, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Edging, Minor Dacryphilia, Petnames (use of sweetheart and good girl) Word Count: 7.6k Notes: This was originally supposed to be a sub 2000 word silly one shot about Law writing Sora smut. As you can see, it very quickly got out of hand. I hope you all enjoy it!
You have come to terms with the fact your Captain does not and will never want you how you want him.
It was hard, at first, to hear his silky voice and see his strong hands and not imagine him saying what you want to hear as he holds you against the wall, fingers slipping slowly up your thighs to where you need him most. It got even harder a few years in, after he started wearing perpetually open shirts and coats, showing off the tattoos you so desperately want to trace your tongue across. But you’re finally starting to accept that he simply doesn’t feel the same. His eyes don’t linger on you when you’re around. He doesn’t show you any leniency (not that you would expect any, of course, but it’s hard not to notice his favoritism for Bepo when he forgives him in an instant for a transgression he had you swab the deck for). He doesn’t accept your help when you offer it, no matter how badly he needs it.
He just doesn’t really want anything to do with you, or at least no more to do with you than anyone else on the ship. Penguin and Shachi, who unfortunately clocked your affection for your Captain years ago, have come up with a long list of excuses as to why he hasn’t shown any signs of affection.
“He’s shy.”
“He gets embarrassed easily.”
“He’s worried about the power gap.”
“He only looks at you when you aren’t looking.”
“Yelling is how he shows his affection.”
And of course, your personal favorite.
“He’s just a nerd. He doesn’t know how to act around women.”
Shachi has repeated this one a lot, and as always you immediately dispute it. “That cannot possibly be true, Shachi.”
“Why not?”
“Look at him!”
“I know what he looks like. Doesn’t change the fact he gets nervous.”
“Captain has never, for even a single moment, shown any sort of hesitation or shyness in front of me. And he’s a grown man, a handsome one, not to mention a wanted pirate. You honestly expect me to believe he’s some shy little nerd who can’t bring himself to talk to me? He just doesn’t like me, Shachi. And that’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”
“Handle what?” Penguin’s voice echoes in the small room he and Shachi share, which you’ve decided to invade for the day.
“Her pining for Captain.”
“Ah.”
You huff. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it’s like…a fact of life. Something so easy to brush past.”
Shachi narrows his eyes in confusion. “I thought you said that’s what you wanted to do. Be casual about it, and all.”
“Yeah, I want to. It feels different when you do it.” You’re pouting. You hate that you’re pouting.
Penguin gives you a pitying smile, dripping with good natured sympathy that makes you clench your jaw. “It’s tough, isn’t it?” He sits on the edge of his bed, careful not to shift you too much. He pats your shoulder, tutting quietly. “It’s hard to get over somebody you don’t really want to get over.”
“Yeah,” you mutter. You finally lift your head, and once you make eye contact, his smile turns a little more teasing.
“I know a great guy you could use as a rebound.”
You sigh. “Is it you?”
He laughs. “Who’s to say? You don’t need him yet.” His smile softens again, something more genuine. “But know that if you really do give up, there will be other guys. Other chances. Give this one a good shot, a real one, and if it doesn’t work out? Come talk to us, and it’ll all be alright.”
Shachi pipes up as well. “It will work out, really. But if it doesn’t…” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you can’t help but finally give them the laugh they were clearly aiming for. Which becomes a full on giggle fit once they light up and give each other a massive high five at their victory. The room is warm, and you finally forget your worries for a moment.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Law’s voice cuts through you like ice, and your laughter stops in an instant. Shachi and Penguin are unphased, of course, still smiling freely.
“I just got off of my shift, Captain. I was going to take a nap, but…” Penguin pokes your side, and you let out a soft squeak as you curl in on yourself. You don’t miss the way Law’s eyes narrow slightly at the contact, the way he seems to focus in on the noise. He must be annoyed with you, with how you’re taking up space somewhere you don’t belong.
“I’m also off shift.” Your voice is small, embarrassingly so.
“I wasn’t talking to you two.” Law’s voice is just as flat and authoritative as always. He’s nothing if not born to command. You’d love to hear what commands he might give you, if–
No. Bad. Evil. Your mind betrays you, as it always does. You sit up so you can hide yourself behind Penguin, make yourself small and inconspicuous and hope that Law will stop looking at you with those beautiful piercing eyes. You don’t know how long you can be normal under such an intense gaze.
“I’m on break,” Shachi defends, causing Law’s eyes to shift over to him. You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as you feel the pressure of his gaze leave you, and you wrap your arms lightly around Penguin, allowing your forehead to fall forward and press into his back. You can feel the rumble of a laugh working its way through his chest, though you can’t figure out why.
Law’s voice is significantly harsher than before. “Well, end it.” You flinch, unused to him snapping quite so cruelly. Law may have a shorter temper than he would admit, but he never sounds quite so furious, especially not with Shachi and Penguin. He seems to realize this as well, because the next time he speaks is much gentler. “I–Just get back to work. I need everyone at their best right now.”
“Aye aye, Captain!” There’s a hint of chuckle in Shachi’s voice, for some reason. He stands, bed creaking as he does. “You can use my bed if you want to nap in here. Let Peng have his.”
You let out a soft whine, but peel yourself off of Penguin anyway. “No, it’s fine, I should get back to my room anyway. I need a nap before I do anything else.” You think you see Law nodding in approval out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look at him, his eyes are firmly on Shachi, glaring at his back as he leaves. Just wishful thinking on your part, as always.
Penguin softly pats your back as you walk past. “Chin up. It’ll all work out.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“What’ll work out?” Law is staring at Penguin’s hand on your back.
“Nothing!” You try not to sound panicked. You fail, of course.
His eyes narrow.
“Sorry, Captain. This is a secret just for us lowly crew members. No captains allowed!” Penguin’s smile is relaxed and easy, and it almost manages to calm you down. You would love to play along, make a little joke out of it, but the idea of him finding out petrifies you. What if he’s disgusted by the idea? Horrified enough to kick you out of the crew, your home, your family? He wouldn’t, you know that, but the image in your head is so clear. Your chest feels tight, your head fuzzy, and you think at some point you started holding your breath.
Law makes a noncommittal grunt, scowl still clear on his face, but he leaves. A small mercy.
“Hey, take a breath, please. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”
“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”
“Are you gonna be alright to get back to your room? Do you need me to walk you?” Penguin’s hand rests gently on your elbow, and he looks ready to jump to your aid at any moment.
You give him a shaky smile. “I’ll be alright. Anxiety’s never killed anyone. Probably.” You take care to walk as steadily as you can out of the room, avoiding eye contact with your Captain, who’s waiting directly outside.
“You okay?” His voice stops you in your tracks.
“Yeah, I’m–” You see the disbelief on his face. “I’ve been better. But it’s okay. I’ll get there.”
“Are Penguin and Shachi giving you trouble? They mean well, but sometimes their jokes can go a little far. I–” He clears his throat, eyes glancing away for a moment. “I could talk to them. If you need me to.”
You chuckle. This means he really has no idea he’s the source of your anguish. Good. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. They’re actually helping me through something.”
He purses his lips. You imagine how soft they’d feel on yours. “Helping you through something?”
“Yeah. I’ve been struggling with it lately, and talking to them has really helped.” You stare intensely at the wall behind him, worrying that you’ll come undone and say something you can’t take back if you stare into his eyes for too long. Something about him just makes you want to melt under his gaze, and you can’t afford to give in to the impulse.
He hums, eyes briefly fluttering closed. “I see. Well, I’m glad you have their support.” Is it just you, or is his voice a bit colder than it was before? “I’ll leave you be. Have a nice nap.”
“Thanks, Captain.” You try not to run back to your room until you’re sure he can’t hear your footsteps anymore. You change out of your boiler suit, desperate to be in something more comfortable than this, and throw yourself into your bed face first. You press your face into your pillow, trying to ground yourself. You aren’t allowed to imagine what it would feel like to lay on Law’s chest instead, his hands on your back, tracing meaningless patterns into your skin. You aren’t allowed to imagine the warmth of the blankets as his, or the comfort of your weighted blanket as his arm around your back. You certainly aren’t allowed to cry about the fact that it isn’t him, and that it never will be. Because that would mean you weren’t getting over him, instead getting lost in a fantasy of what can never and will never be. And you have no time for fantasy, despite what your heart keeps trying to tell you.
You dream of him, as you always seem to.
You could cope with it, if it were simply sex. If it were about nothing more than his cock and his hands and the way his voice penetrates deep into your bones whenever you hear it, turning you pliable and needy. But today’s dream is one you’ve had before, and one you always dread.
I love you. His hands are gentle as they wrap around your waist, pulling you close. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. His nose nuzzles against your neck, tickling you and making you giggle.
I love you too, Law. I think I always have. Your hands rest on his chest, and you can feel his heart beating below your fingers, quick and thundering. You smile. Nervous?
Of course I am. Look at you. His eyes bore into yours, and you can see the affection flooding them. His nose brushes against yours, his lips growing closer, and his eyes flutter shut.
Yours shoot open.
No matter how many dreams you have about Law, you can never kiss him. How sad, that your brain can imagine a hundred ways he can fuck you and not one in which gives you the one thing you’ve been craving most.
You throw off your covers and throw on a bra, not bothering to get fully dressed. You need some air, which is unfortunate, considering the Tang won’t surface for at least another day or two. You can at least go downstairs and find a window, press yourself against the glass and pretend you’re out in the cold of the ocean, at peace with the world around you. You can avoid passing Law’s office, and hopefully that means you’ll avoid the man himself. You don’t want to burst into tears the moment you see him, and you feel too soft and fragile right now, like your edges are crumbling. Half of you is still in the dream, melting into fantasy, and being snapped into reality with a single look might shatter you.
You pad quietly out into the hallway, unsure of what time it is, not wanting to wake anyone. It’s impossible to tell what time of day it is on the Tang when you’re underwater, lit only by harsh fluorescents that constantly buzz. It’s peaceful, feeling the cold metal of the floors seep through your socks and hearing the quiet thunk of your footsteps muffled by the fabric.
“Are you heading downstairs?”
You turn to see Bepo, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, papers in hand. “Yeah, I am. Why? Do you need something?”
“Can you run these to Captain for me? I would, but–”
You see him wince as he speaks, and you immediately know what the problem is. Before you can even think about it, you’re swiping the papers from his hands easily. “Yeah, of course, big guy. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you so much!” He’s off in an instant.
You stare at the papers, willing yourself into reality. You’re going to bring something to your captain. The man you have no other relationship with. Just doing your job. And afterwards you can go back to your room and cry all you want, if you really feel like you need to.
Law should be in his office right now, buried up to his neck in paperwork. It doesn’t feel great to add to that pile, or to let him see you so underdressed, but Bepo needed help. You can’t let him suffer just to avoid some embarrassment. You make your way down, knocking lightly against his office door.
No voice calls you inside.
Strange. He should be here. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk again. You’ve heard the others scold him for that dozens of times, and you’ve caught him yourself once or twice. He’s going to ruin his back if he keeps doing that. You crack open the door, ready to shift him into a more comfortable position, but you find your Captain isn’t actually there at all. His desk is a mess, papers everywhere, a sharp contrast from the neatly organized shelves and minimalist look of the rest of the room.
“Maybe I should tidy up for him,” you mutter to yourself. Law hates asking for help with things he believes he should be able to handle on his own, but clearly this is getting away from him. And even if he wasn’t grateful for the intrusion, at least it might lighten his load a little. You’d do nearly anything to ease your Captain’s burdens, if he’d just let you.
Before you realize it, your hands are on the papers, your former fragility forgotten as you get lost in the calm that such a mundane task brings you. You start by simply organizing the papers into stacks based on their titles and a quick skim of their opening paragraphs. You don’t read any further, not wanting to read anything not meant for your eyes, and you quickly find you’re able to organize everything into three neat stacks: medical papers, ship logs, and a third stack of anything that doesn’t fit into the previous two. You’re nearly finished when you find a title that makes you pause.
You can’t figure out what What You Can’t Have could mean, or what this bundle of papers is doing in Law’s office. Skimming the first few paragraphs doesn’t give you any explanation, until you start reading more closely and see a name: Sora.
Everyone in the North Blue knows about Sora, Warrior of the Sea, and everyone on this ship knows it more intimately than most. Your Captain’s fondness for the series and your fondness for him means you know it very well, well enough to know this is not one of the noncanonical (but still official) spinoff novels, or a novel adaptation of one of the comics. There’s a character you’ve never heard of before in this, one that, if you were a more paranoid person, you would suspect is based on you. She can’t be, of course. That would be ridiculous. But as you read her introductory paragraph, you can’t help but notice she bears a striking physical resemblance to you. Same hair and eye color, same height, same build. But she can’t be you. She’s described as seductive, enchanting, and many other things you know nobody would ever say about you.
You should put this down. But the writing style is so familiar, and so are the handwritten edits in the margins. Your captain wrote this. You had no idea this was what he did in what little spare time he has. You keep telling yourself to stop reading, to tuck it away and pretend you didn’t see it, because really, you know he wouldn’t want you to have seen it, easily embarrassed as he is. But there’s so much passion in the words, so much care, and frankly? It’s good. Really good. You think he has some real talent, in something you would have never expected him to even try. His care for the series oozes from every word, and he’s really good at building tension, and–
Oh.
Your captain hasn’t just been writing fanfiction about his favorite hero.
He’s been writing smut.
Really good smut, honestly.
You lean against the desk, completely enraptured by his work. The tension between Sora and this unnamed woman is astonishing, every single word winding you up tighter as you wait for the dam to break. Before you know it, you’re fully bent over the desk, clutching the page in your hands, trying not to rub your thighs together at the very graphic descriptions of what Sora is doing with his hands. You imagine Law’s hands, lithe and long, sliding under your shirt like Sora’s do under this mystery woman’s. You imagine his breath puffing against your ear as he instructs, be good for me, now, and maybe you can finally get what you want, just like Sora does. You imagine him moving impossibly closer, feeling his hardness press into your thigh as–
“What are you doing in here?”
You freeze. Your captain is standing in the door, papers in hand and scowl severe. If you didn’t know better, you would think for a moment his eyes lingered on the cleavage you’re showing by leaning over this far. But you do know better, so you tell yourself he’s simply observing the papers in your hands, even if his gaze seems aimed too high for that. You shoot up, papers still in hand, shirt riding up in the process, and god does it look like his eyes dip down to your exposed midriff in the process. But they don’t. You have more pressing matters than your delusions, anyway.
“Hi Captain!”
“...Hi.”
“I–Um. I was organizing your desk for you.”
His eyes linger on the three stacks of papers, humming quietly. “I see that. …Why?”
“Bepo had me run papers down to you, but you weren’t here, and–and your desk was so messy, so much messier than usual, and I was worried maybe you were overwhelmed and I thought it might help.” You’re speaking a mile a minute, clutching the papers close to your chest in some desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the sound of the papers wrinkling causes him to glance down and now you’re sure that just for a moment he was looking at your boobs and you’re far more flustered than you were when you began.
And even worse, he smiles. It’s a soft, gentle thing, which sneaks so slowly onto his face you don’t even know if he realizes it’s there. But it is. And it’s beautiful. “Thank you, then. I appreciate the thought.”
Your grip eases on the papers for a second, and the crinkling brings his attention back to them. You don’t know what gives it away, but with the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his lips part, you know that he knows what you have in your hands. The way he whispers your name, the fear in it, makes your heart clench.
“Captain–”
“Did you–I–” He takes a breath, gathers himself. “Did you read anything you weren’t supposed to?”
God, you did. You’re halfway through a sex scene, flushed and flustered and thinking about your captain in ways that are wholly and completely inappropriate. You’re panicking. You can’t let Law see how flustered you are, can’t let him realize that you were fantasizing about him, lusting after him in his office while he’s out like some kind of pervert. So, trying to turn this around on him, throw him off his rhythm, you decide to make a deeply out of character choice.
You open your mouth, taking a dramatic breath as though you're going to start reading aloud, and you can see the panic in Law's eyes. Before you can decide between reading and handing it over to spare him the embarrassment, you hear “Shambles!” as the papers in your hand are swapped with the ones he walked in with. You're momentarily disappointed, before you look down and are struck with intense and all consuming delight.
In trying to get the fanfiction out of your hands, Law has, in fact, given you more of his fanfiction to read.
You gasp quietly, cheshire cat grin widening. Law looks at you with confusion, clearly still so thrown he hasn't realized what's just transpired. In your current state, you can only think of one way to inform him.
"Her hands were soft and gentle, so small compared to his-"
"STOP." He lunges forward around the desk, powers forgotten as he decides to bullrush you to get the papers out of your hands. His hands wrap around your wrists, and before you know it you’re pinned against the desk, chests pressed together, his leg pressed between your thighs. You flush, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hard body against yours, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Do you think this is funny?”
You open your mouth to respond, but his lips are so close, and you feel something else pressing into your midriff. You make a small choked noise, and his glare doesn’t dampen.
“Are you trying to embarrass your captain?”
“I–uh–Captain–” You can barely squeak out anything, and he presses closer.
“Answer me.”
“You’re so close.”
He pauses.
He blinks.
And suddenly your captain is across the room, face bright red, holding his papers in front of his chest like a shield. “I–um.” He stares at you a moment, his eyes moving from your face to your chest to your hips and back up, and suddenly the papers shifts down in front of his crotch.
He couldn’t…
Could he?
Before you can process this, he’s speaking again, his tone far less authoritative than it was before. “How far did you read?”
“Uh–pretty far.”
You could swear his voice cracks a little as he whispers, “Oh god. This is–you were never supposed to see that.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep reading, it was just–it was really good.”
He stares at you a moment, mouth agape. “What?”
“It was–I liked it a lot. I didn’t even mean to start it, I just couldn’t figure out what pile to put it in, and then I got really invested, and–I’m really, really sorry, Captain.”
“You liked it?” His eyes are narrowed, looking at you like something dangerous, like if he shows a moment of weakness you’ll pounce. He approaches you slowly, inching closer and closer.
“...Yeah. I did. I was really impressed, actually. I didn’t know you were a writer.”
He scoffs. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”
“Why?”
“I just…don’t know if I’m good at it.” He sounds small in a way you’ve never heard him. You’ve never seen Law less than confident before. He absolutely radiates it, a constant smug grin and twinkle in his eyes. It suits him far better than slumped shoulders and wringing hands.
“Are you kidding? It was amazing. What I was able to read, anyway. I couldn’t bear to put it down.” You reach for him for just a moment, your hand ready to touch his shoulder, but something in you pulls it back. You can’t bring yourself to touch him, not as you are.
He won’t look at you. You can feel his regret in sharing, in allowing his mask to crack slightly. There’s a bitterness to his tone as he snaps at you like a wounded animal. “You expect me to believe that? That you didn’t just read it to laugh at me?”
You can’t keep the pity off of your face. His first instinct is always to believe he’ll be hurt, that an open hand is a sign of a slap, and not a kind touch. “Why on earth would I do that, Captain?”
His shoulders unknot a bit as he thinks it over. You have never done anything to hurt him, and to tease in such a cruel way is not in your nature. He’s not relaxed, not quite, but he isn’t ready to run anymore. He leans against a nearby table, parking himself at a distance but assuring you he won’t go further. “I suppose you wouldn’t. …So you really liked it?”
The way he’s looking at you is so fragile, so soft. You feel your heart clench at the sight of such a guarded man looking so adorable, though you know he would hate to be called such a thing. You can’t help the affection that leaks into your gentle smile as you look at him. “I really did.”
He huffs, trying to bring back up his walls, but he can’t hide his relief, and his continued interest. “What did you like about it?”
“I thought the descriptions were very vivid. It was…” It feels like crossing a line you can’t uncross to call it hot, but he’s looking at you so expectantly. “Very stimulating.”
Something akin to a smirk grows on his face, offset by the dust of a blush on his cheeks. His voice is an octave deeper when he speaks. “Simulating?”
You shiver. “I–uh–yes. The leads had really good chemistry. I never imagined Sora would be so…charming. And I liked the woman too, though I have to admit I didn’t recognize her name.”
He nods. “You wouldn’t. She’s an original character.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I wanted to try my hand at something new, and I didn’t like pairing him with any of the canon characters so I just…made one up.”
You shift nervously on your feet, thinking about how remarkably familiar her description was. “So you made her just for this? Didn’t even give her a name?”
“I haven’t decided her name yet, but I’m working on it. And yeah, she’s just for this. Why?”
You want to be subtle, ease your way in, but your mind is running a mile a minute and frankly subtlety has never been your strong suit anyway. “So…is she supposed to be me?”
He shoots up so quickly he nearly falls over. “What? No! No, why would you think that?” He looks absolutely mortified, like he’s praying the floor swallows him whole. He looks about two seconds away from shambling himself out of the sub and letting the ocean take him away.
“Well in her intro, when you describe her…she looks a lot like me.”
“...She does?” He seems genuinely surprised, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Why are you asking? You’re the writer! You didn’t realize?”
“No, I…” He’s blushing to the tips of his ears. “She was just supposed to be a beautiful woman. I didn’t think that hard about what she looked like beyond that.”
“She has the same hair color and eye color as me, you describe her as around my height, and the dress she’s wearing in her intro is my favorite color.”
His shoulders are so tense they’re practically up over his ears. If his voice cracks when he yells, you’re kind enough not to acknowledge it. “I didn’t think that much about it! I just thought of a beautiful woman and I described her.”
“So when you think of a beautiful woman in your head, you see me?”
He doesn’t answer.
You try to hide your giddy smile. “That’s sweet, Captain.”
He avoids eye contact so aggressively you swear it must be hurting him at this point. “It wasn’t–I–I didn’t notice. You don’t think it’s…creepy?”
“That you think I’m beautiful?”
“That I wrote porn about a woman who looks exactly like you.”
“Oh. When you put it like that I guess it doesn’t sound great.” He tenses again, so you rush to reassure him. “But no, I don’t think it’s creepy. It’s not like you meant to, or anything. Or that you wrote about me and like, another member of the crew or something. Why would I be mad that I just happen to be exactly your type?” Your heart is beating out of your chest as you try to portray a confidence you certainly don’t feel.
“Right. Yeah. I–There’s nothing wrong with that.”
He didn’t deny it.
“And it’s…great porn, honestly.”
Your delivery is so awkward the tension finally breaks as he laughs at you. “I appreciate that. I worked hard on it. But I’m not sure on some of the descriptions.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure it reads as true to life.”
“Does it need to?”
“No, not really, fantasies don’t have to be realistic. But…I can’t help but think about it anyway. What if part of it is so unrealistic it takes you out of it entirely, and I just didn’t notice? Or didn’t know because I’ve never tried that specific thing? Do you know what I mean?”
You do. You know insecurity in your work, the way it whispers in your ear. You know that words are not enough reassurance to silence those whispers. You want to help him, even if you don’t know how you could.
“What if we…tested it? To see if it’s realistic?” You can’t believe the words that just left your mouth. From the look on his face, Law can’t either.
“What?” A beautiful crimson streaks across his face and up to his ears, heat radiating off of him.
“Oh my god. Forget I said that, that was so inappropriate, I’ll just go–”
“No!” He’s so loud you both flinch, and he seems surprised by his own objection. His long fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you can feel his calluses brush against your skin. God, what you wouldn’t give for those fingers to be somewhere else. “No, don’t–don’t leave. I think–I would–um. I’d like that.”
You blink. “You would?”
“Just to…test it. To make sure my writing is accurate. I’m a perfectionist.”
“Right.”
“Yeah.” His eyes flicker down to where he’s holding you, and to your surprise, he doesn’t release his grip. He tugs you closer, pressing your chests together, and you can feel his warm breath in his ear. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Law.”
“What?”
The deep rumble of his voice is commanding in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together. “I want to hear you say my name. Call me Law.”
“Yes, Law.”
You can feel his smirk as he whispers the next words in your ear. “Good girl.”
Heat rushes to your face, and you bite your lip to keep from making any deeply embarrassing noises. He chuckles as he pulls away, and you see no trace of his earlier apprehension or nerves. You suppose Law has always been a good liar, always putting up the front of the proud, confident, and unshakable Surgeon of Death. What is this but another part for him to play?
“How did it start again?” He places his hands on your hips, leading you away from the desk and toward the wall. “She and Sora meet up in the club, strike up a conversation–”
“Can we skip to the good part?” You hate how needy and breathless you sound. You’re already worked up from reading, from hearing him speak, from being so close, that you think if you spend another minute without some kind of release you might explode.
He chuckles. “I guess we can skip forward a bit.” He presses you against the wall, hand sliding to your thigh. You shiver, but he stops right before his fingers slide under your shorts. “But have you been good enough to earn it?”
You whine, a pathetic, wounded sound that comes from deep within you. For a moment, you see his facade slip as he swallows, trying not to give away how much the sound turned him on. But after a moment his mask settles back firmly in place, and you’re both ready to continue the game. “Please, Law. I’ve been good. I’ll be good.”
His smile is all teeth as his fingers find their place inside of you. First one, pumping slowly and deliberately, curling to hit your sweet spot just right. He moans quietly in your ear at the feeling of it. You know his line before he says it. “Do you feel that? The way you’re pulling me in? You need me bad, sweetheart, don’t you?”
He inserts a second finger right as you open your mouth to answer. “Ahh–Yes! I need you!”
He pumps harder, faster, and his other hand starts to wander towards your chest. His lips find your neck, nipping at the point where it meets your jaw, making you gasp again. His hand gently squeezes your breast through your shirt, and he can feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. He chuckles. “Yes, you do. Nobody else can make you feel as good as I can. You know it. That’s why you’re here, that’s why you’re so drawn to me. On some level you know: it’s just you and me. We’re all there is, all that matters. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Law! Yes!”
His free hand effortlessly removes your shirt, and you gasp as you’re exposed to the air, your back pressing into the cold wall. He removes your bra next, letting out a soft hiss of appreciation when he finally sees them fully exposed. “As beautiful as I imagined,” he whispers, seemingly to himself. You don’t remember that line.
His mouth finds your nipple easily, sucking and nipping as you threaten to come undone under his attention. His fingers are still moving, his thumb on your clit, building the tension in your body until you feel like you’re going to explode. You’re so very close to the edge, close enough that in your pleasure you forget the next part of the story for a moment.
Until his fingers leave you.
“No!” Your head slams back into the wall as you wail, tears welling up in your eyes. Law seems unaffected, pulling back from you as he slowly inserts his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste. The only sign that you’ve shaken him is the clear strain of his cock under his jeans, desperate to be free.
His fingers leave his mouth with a pop, and he smiles at you, eyes half-lidded. “Did you think it was going to be that easy? That you would just get what you want, no questions asked?”
You whine, the sound filled with genuine despair. The room is silent for a moment as he stares at you, waiting for your next line, and you try to remember the part you’re supposed to play here. You just barely manage to grasp it, breathlessly saying, “I thought you were a better man than to leave a lady wanting.”
He slides off his tank top, revealing his beautiful tattoos to you. “Oh, honey, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need. And how wonderful it’ll be, once you’re so on edge you can barely stand it, and I finally give in to you. Can you imagine it?” He pops the button of his pants next, sensually sliding them and his boxers down to expose his bare hips. “What it’ll feel like, when I’m finally inside of you?”
His cock is finally free, bobbing in the air as it leaks with precum. He looks painfully hard, and you swallow as you briefly imagine it in your mouth. You’d give almost anything to taste him right now, but that isn’t a part of the scene.
“You’ll feel so full, honey. Imagine how good it’ll feel to cum on my cock. Isn’t that worth the wait?”
“God, yes.”
“Good girl. So agreeable.” One hand finds your hips as he uses the other to line himself up. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, god, please.”
He slowly slides in, feeling the drag of every inch of his dick against your walls. He makes a strangled noise at the feeling, burying his face into your neck as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He stops once he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you both a moment to adjust.
And then another.
And another.
“Law?”
You can hear him chuckle against you. “What, darling?”
“Please, Law.”
He pretends to ponder whether or not to give in for a moment, keeping you in suspense, before he relents. He pulls away from your neck, revealing his extremely red face. His voice may be calm, but the rest of him cannot hide the effects you’re having. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”
You know the line you’re supposed to say next. She tells Sora she wants relief, wants him to move, wants anything that she can have. But you’re soft, and weak, filled with want. You cannot help but think of your dream this morning, what you were denied and what you’ve always wanted. So you speak the honest truth. “I want you to kiss me.”
He stares at you for a moment, eyes searching yours. You see your own want reflected in him, an affection that makes your chest ache. Then a smile blooms across his face, one gentler than you deserve. The line he says next is Sora’s, but what comes after is all Law. “Whatever the lady wants,” he murmurs, before his lips meet yours.
The kiss isn’t fireworks, or an all consuming flame, or any other way you’d ever heard such a thing described. It was tender, it was kind, and most importantly, it was Law. You’d never wanted anything else. It finally confirms to you that this isn’t a dream, that he’s really here, pressing you against this wall, a desire burning in him that only you can satiate. The lust is still here, the heat of your bodies intertwined, but there’s something tender and real beneath it.
Once you both pull back, panting, you look into his eyes and know the scene is well and truly over. Now it’s just you and Law, breaths mingling and hearts pounding. He smiles at you, a nervous, delicate thing, his confidence left behind with the script. He’s breathless as he whispers, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”
You let out a soft, unsure laugh. “Is that Law talking, or Sora?”
He brushes his nose against yours. “It’s all me. It always has been.”
You can’t help your lovesick smile, dripping with a saccharine fondness you couldn’t hide if you tried. You meet his lips again, a kiss with a little more fire, a little more desperation. You try to convey everything you can’t say aloud: the years of yearning, the pain of thinking this moment would never come, the euphoria of learning you were wrong. Your hands press against his chest, his pulse fluttering under your fingers in unison with your own. You wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him ever closer. He lets out a soft sound, almost a whimper, at the feeling of your lips against his as you clench around him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and once again the air around you grows ever hotter.
“Can I move?” There’s a whine to his voice. “Please.”
“Please do,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chests together.
He needs no further instruction, thrusting harshly, hips rutting against yours. You can feel him struggle to hold himself back from pounding into you at a bruising pace. His hands grip your hips, his nails digging in as he clenches his teeth.
“You don’t have to hold back, Law. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”
He struggles to speak through his self control. “I want to enjoy this. I want to take my time.” Another deliberate thrust has you dragging your nails down his back, making him moan in your ear. “I want this to be as good as it can be for you.”
“This is–ahh!–already better than I’d ever dreamed, Law.”
One of his hands moves to your clit, his fingers starting a steady motion. “Not good enough,” he mutters. His lips find your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along its length, his teeth grazing your skin. You feel yourself coming close to cumming again, your voice growing louder, echoing through the room as you babble. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, the words please and more and Law are all you can say, all you can think. There is nothing in the world beyond the feeling of him against you, inside of you, his soft lips and callused hands.
You expect him to rip away your pleasure again, but when he briefly stills, your babbles turn to sobs anyway. He pulls back to look you in the eye, take in the sight of the tears running down your face, and you can see him soften once again. His hands and hips start moving again immediately as he presses soft kisses against your cheeks, clearing away your tears.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s alright. You’re doing great. I won’t take it from you again, I promise.” His voice is filled with pity. “You’ve been so good, you can take what you want now.” He builds you back up quickly, his hips pressing into yours even faster than before. You can feel yourself about to burst, and you slam your lips into his, moaning into his mouth. The dam finally bursts, and the pleasure nearly blinds you as you clench around him, his hips struggling to keep moving with how tightly your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your orgasm is what finally makes him break, filling you to the brim as his movements stutter.
You bask in the feeling for a moment, both panting and dripping with sweat, his cock rapidly softening inside of you. Your head lolls forward, pressing into his shoulder, and you press a kiss against his sticky skin.
“Was it worth the wait?” He tries to ask the question in a teasing tone, but you can hear the insecurity underneath it.
“It was worth everything and more.” You shift to wrap your arms tighter around him and nuzzle your face into his neck.
You can feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckles, gathering you up as he slips out of you. “Agreed.” He kisses the side of your head, an action so filled with care it nearly makes you burst into tears again. He tries to lower you onto something, making you pull him closer and whine. “I just need to set you down for a second, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”
“No.” You sound like a pouting child, making you cringe, but he laughs fondly anyway.
“Alright. A few more minutes. But I have to clean you up eventually, and then we need to find a place a bit more private to settle in, don’t you think? Or at least somewhere more comfortable.”
You hum quietly, pressing your nose further into him. You can worry about logistics in a few minutes. Right now you just want to bask in his warmth, in this dream turned reality, in the absolute joy of your feelings being reciprocated. “I really didn’t think you liked me,” you mutter sleepily. “I’m glad I was wrong.”
“I could say the same,” he murmurs into your hair.
You laugh. “Shachi and Peng are going to be so smug about this.”
“They are?”
“They’ve been trying to tell me for years, and they don’t get to tell me I told you so very often.”
“They were telling you too?” He laughs. “We could have done this months ago if we’d just believed them.”
“Yeah,” you whisper, your eyes starting to slip shut. “You’re worth the wait, though.”
You can hear the smile in his voice as his hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, luring you further into sleep. “Yeah. So are you.”
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay
#law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#one piece x reader#law x you#law x y/n#trafalgar law#one piece#one piece law#op#one piece smut
556 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere! Mr. Crawling
Content: SFW hcs + Established relationship + Overprotection + Manipulation + Baby trapping + clingy! Mr. Crawling + Gaslighting + Somnophilia + Stalking + Death + Breeding kink + Slight size difference.
Summary: Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to keep his deep love secret from you
Note: I hope all of you are having a good day!! I'm trying to do my essays but they're so boring... Let me know if you have any suggestions/things you want to say to me, I love answering to people!!
SFW:
Human! Mr. Crawling who falls in love as soon as he sees your face.
Human! Mr. Crawling who decides to try and keep you safe and protect you from all possible dangers. This ranges from leaving small gifts for you, buying you something to eat when he hears a rumble close to him, or buying you a drink if he has seen you working so hard on keeping up with all the classes, to sometimes intimidating the other guys that kept trying to get closer to you.
Human! Mr. Crawling who tries his hardest to speak to you, even if it's just a few words to make sure you know he's listening to you. Nodding his head and keeping his eyes completely focused on your face.
Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to make himself look smaller, crunching a bit and walking with his back a bit arched, not something that can be easily noticeable for others, but just enough to reduce the height difference between the two of you.
Human! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to make you feel safe with him, allowing him to get into your bedroom, even to the point of making a sleepover. He just had to try his hardest not to act in any weird manner.
Human! Mr. Crawling who keeps following you like a lost puppy. You can almost see two ears and a tail appear when he acts like a small puppy, being easily excited when you compliment him, even if it's for the smallest things.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who begins to feel how his pure love becomes something more twisted the moment he realises more people keep getitng interested in you. He looks so kind when you look at him, but as soon as you turn your head, his gaze becomes much darker, his expression is always serious, his brows slightly furrowed as he tries to keep himself restrained.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of you great "friendship" and starts to try and get rid of your friends. He keeps on interrupting when you meet with your other friends, creating different reasons why he just couldn't wait to meet you, as he truly needed you.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of his sickly aspect to make you worry about him, calling you to ask you for small gestures, making sure that they are small enough to avoid you from refusing him.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to ask you out. He made sure to get rid of each and all your friends who could get in the way of your relationships, after all, he is everything you need, right?
NSFW:
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who had already seen you way before both of you met each other in class, his phone filled to the brim with pictures of you. The fact that most of them involve you in embarrasing positions while the rest are of your sleeping face. They definitely have no effect on him, hell no (just ignore the raging bulge he gets from seeing your lips slightly parted, totally normal reaction).
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who put a small chip on your phone while you were sleeping. How was he supposed to keep you safe if he didn't know where you were the whole day? Don't be so dramatic, he was just doing it for your sake :((
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who killed someone in front of you. He was stalking you around town when he saw that strange man grabbing you by your wrist and taking you to the closest dark alley. Before he could think, his hands were already gripping his throat, his face turning blue as his grasp got even stronger. When he finally was sure that man was no longer alive, he turned around, a happy smile on his lips as he waited for your compliments. He was now on his real height, allowing you to notice how he was over one head and a half taller than you, despite that, he made you pet his hair, forcing you to smile as the body of the strange man got colder.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling whose obsession only increases the moment the two of you decide to date. His arms are now always around your waist, his hands always touching you, no matter if you are alone or in front of other people. He just loves hugging you from behind, his dick rubbing against your ass, grinding against you as soon as he saw you do something he didn't like.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who forces his cock inside you, filling you load after load just to prove that you're truly his one and only. He doesn't stop until he sees his seed dripping from your hole, your eyes rolling to your skull with fat tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who keeps blabbering about impregnating you during sex, he doesn't even care about your gender, he WILL impregnate you. He will defy Mother Nature for you, filling you one after the other and not pulling out until the next morning.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates with your clothes the moment he misses you, he doesn't care if you have been away for barely a few hours, he just misses his sweet darling so much :(( Not his fault that your clothes are filled with your sweet scent...
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates to your sleeping face while the both of you sleep together. He loves feeling you close to him, all relaxed as your expressions sometimes change to one of pure bliss... He hugs you from behind, beginning to grind against your ass as an attempt to keep himself in check. This of course doesn't work, which forces him to use his own hand to masturbate, slowly getting on top of you so he can get an extremely detailed view of your sleeping face.
#fanfiction#x reader#smut#homicipher headcanons#homicipher smut#homicipher#mr crawling#mr crawling x reader#mr crawling headcanons#yandere smut#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#male yandere
898 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!
Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader
Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3
Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
》VI
"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.
Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.
"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.
"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."
Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.
》EKKO
He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.
It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.
"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.
"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.
The festival was going to be great, to say the least.
》JINX
You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.
Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.
And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x genderneutral reader#arcane x y/n#arcane vi#arcane vi x reader#vi x reader#vi#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx x reader#arcane ekko#arcane ekko x reader#ekko x reader#ekko
645 notes
·
View notes
Text
₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | PROLOGUE
a pogue!sweetheart!reader series by rafesangelita ©
SUMMARY: nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the handsome kook that came crashing into your life.. quite literally. it’s hard to think that at one point you and rafe didn’t know one another, especially since you two have spent every passing day together for the last four months.
WARNINGS: drug use, driving under the influence, reckless driving, rafe arguing with ward, descriptions of a mild injury, mentions of addiction and sobriety, blood, reader tends to rafe’s wounds, fluff, opposite of slowburn, forced proximity (?), time skip (from four months ago to the current day), slight angst
AUTHOR’S NOTE: ahhhhh!! it’s finally here, and i couldn’t be more excited to share this with all of you!! all feedback is deeply appreciated <3 feel free to ask to be added to the taglist if you’d like!
LINKS: series masterlist | next chapter
WORD COUNT: 2.8k
rafe set a new record for himself tonight, and he wasn’t proud of it. not only did he lose count of the lines he snorted off of topper’s coffee table, he also had ward blowing up his phone. “aye, man, i don’t think you should be driving.” topper slurred, downing the alcohol in his glass. cleaning the residue from his nose, rafe shook him off, stumbling through the crowd of people in the living room before hopping in his truck and peeling out of the packed street.
jaw ticking, rafe cursed to himself when his phone started ringing, ward’s contact lighting up the screen. “i’m going home already, alright? yes— yes, dad! i know we have a meeting with some investors in the morning.. what? no i’m not fuckin’ high!” he rambled on, feigning offense when his father called his bluff. “just stop— i know, okay? i’ll be there in a minute—” before rafe could finish his sentence, he took a sharp turn, swerving onto the curb before hitting a light pole.
you were locking up the icecream parlor when you heard the high pitched squeal of tires against the pavement, a loud crash making you jump from your spot in front of the door. spinning on your heels, your eyes widened when you saw a black truck just feet away from the main street, smoke billowing from under the hood. unsure of what to do, you looked around to see if anyone was nearby, but of course, the strip was always empty at this time of the night.
“son of a bitch!” you heard someone groan before they tumbled out of the front seat, falling face down against the concrete. you gasped, dropping your purse before running across the street. “are you okay?!” you helped the stranger sit up, wincing when you saw blood dripping from his nose. he stared at you wide eyed, his pupils blown as you kneeled in front of him. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.
“it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” you reassured him, slipping off your cardigan before holding it against his nose. you noticed the open gash on his brow, your heart sinking when you saw his eyes soften. “we really need to get you to the emergency, do you have a phone?” rafe shook his head, leaning back against the tire of his truck. “no. well, yes, i have a phone.. somewhere.. but i can’t go to the emergency, not like this.” just then, rafe felt a sharp pain shoot up to his temple from his neck.
“yes, like this! you’re all scraped up.” you said incredulously. “no, i mean i’m not sober.” as if he was waiting for you to judge him, rafe watched as your expression didn’t falter. “i promise you, going to the emergency and getting help from a professional is a lot more better than not going at all. your truck can always be replaced; you can’t.” your words lit a fire in his chest, the sincerity in your tone making him crack a pained smile.
“i’ll go to jail for this, and i just can’t do that right now. i have to be somewhere in the morning, my dad will kill me if he finds out..” remembering that he was on the phone with ward before he crashed, he scrambled up to find the device, only to groan and plop back down on the street. still holding the pink cardigan to his head, you guided his hand to hold it for you. “what are you looking for? i can try to find it.” rafe let out a shaky breath, mumbling “my phone.” before you got up and spotted it near the tire.
turning it over, you held it up for him to see. it was completely shattered. “i don’t think it’s going to work..” you handed it to him, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “what the fuck?” he breathed out, holding his head in his hands. you’ve never seen someone look so defeated before, your feet moving on their own before you could think. “do you think you can walk? my place is only five minutes away.” rafe looked up like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth.
“your place?” he repeated, half shocked and half confused as to why you’d offer him help. “yes,” you nodded, taking his hand in yours, “i don’t have a phone there, but i can at least get you cleaned up..” rafe tried to weigh out his options, only to realize he didn’t have any. “are you sure?” he was truly at your mercy. “yes. here— just keep holding this to your head, let me go get my purse and we can be on our way.” you left him with your cardigan, running across the street and grabbing your bag before getting him up.
“i’m a lot stronger than i thought.” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood as you wrapped one of rafe’s arms around your shoulders. “fuck, what about my truck?” rafe leaned his weight on you, nearly making you topple over before you took a step. “someone will find it and call a tow, you could call the towing company tomorrow,” you explained to him, “do you have anything valuable in there?” rafe laughed, shaking his head. “just my piece of shit phone that has no value now.” he grunted, walking with a slight limp.
“hey, uhm, what’s your name?” rafe looked down at you, both of you sharing a glance before he looked away. despite him not being in the right state of mind, there was no doubting how insanely pretty you were. “y/n.. and yours?” why on earth were you getting butterflies right now? “rafe.” was all he replied before he started asking you an abundant amount of questions. rafe learned a lot about you in the short five minute walk to your camper. what you did for a living, where you currently worked for some extra money, what your hobbies consisted of.. along with being a pogue.
“so.. you live all alone in this pink camper in the middle of the woods? aren’t you scared some psycho will come across it and want to know who’s inside?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “a psycho?” you flashed him a playful smile, “like you?” rafe watched as you unlocked the small screen door, a chuckle threatening to slip from his throat. “i would laugh if it didn’t feel like i had a thousand needles stabbing me in my brain right now.” he swallowed thickly, accepting the hand you offered him to step in.
he was immediately hit with the smell of freshly baked cake and vanilla frosting. he loved it. “i know it’s really small in here, but you could just take a seat right there on that little couch and i’ll go get my first aid kit.” rafe did as you said, eyes darting around your space. pink florals, white lace trim, usually he’d be irked by this kind of decor, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, he didn’t mind it this time. rafe leaned back on the soft sofa, settling into the cushions while you scrambled for the little first aid kit somewhere in your bathroom.
spotting the small box on your little shelf, you grabbed it before making your way back to where rafe was sitting. he opened his eyes momentarily, finding you even more pretty now that darkness didn’t surround you two. he kept his gaze on you, watching as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. “sorry about this..” rafe took the pink cardigan away from his head, the fabric now stained with blood. “oh, don’t worry about it,” you smiled, “you needed it more than i did.”
pressing a damp cloth to his nose, rafe groaned when you applied the slightest bit of pressure. “i’m sorry!” you pouted, taking a seat next to him. rafe reassured you he was alright, a groan leaving his lips as he clutched his stomach. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you lifted his shirt, your eyes widening at the sight. he was scraped and bruised, a small wound adorning his lower abdomen. “here, lets get this off.” you pulled rafe’s t-shirt over his head, both of your cheeks heating at the compromising position.
“we could stop if this is too weird for you—” you shook your head, taking an ice pack out of your freezer. “no, it’s okay.” you pressed the cold bag to his skin, still wiping away the dried blood on his face. “i’m not sure how far you live, but i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to walk anywhere.” your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound of it soothing rafe more than any kind of medicine he could take right now. “don’t worry about me, i’ll be fine.” rafe watched your fingers dance across his stomach, your nails sparkling underneath the dim lighting of your camper.
you thought for a moment. “i guess what i’m trying to say is; i think you’re better off staying the night here..” you trailed off, meeting his gaze, “you’ll be able to get to a phone in the morning and call whoever you need to. you should just get some rest right now.” rafe was stunned. you wanted him to stay? “i don’t know..” he sounded uneasy, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t help but feel like he was imposing. “it’s okay, i swear! you could take my bed since there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep on this little thing.”
“no, no way, i’m fine with sleeping on the floor.” you smiled at him, eyes flickering down to his lips. “no, really, it’s okay…?” you trailed off, unsure of what to call him since you didn’t know his name. “rafe.” he answered. “rafe,” he liked the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue, “i’ve fallen asleep plenty of times over here, i’ll be fine on the couch.” you got up, wringing out the towel you were using to clean him up. “i just have one rule, though,” rafe held the ice pack to his stomach, humming as you grabbed some ointment and a couple of bandages.
“you can only lay in my bed if you’re clean.. and you need a shower.” the corner of rafe’s lips quirked. “if you want to see me naked all you have to do is ask.” you blinked, pushing his chest softly. “that’s not what i meant.” you giggled. “i’ll get you a change of clothes, just get in there for right now.” rafe was already too far in to look back. getting up with your assistance, you guided rafe to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. “there’s clean towels and wash rags on the shelf!” you called from the kitchen, yawning as all of tonight’s events started to catch up with you.
rafe didn’t know what to make of all of this. one minute he was high out of his mind, crashing into a light pole with his dad on the phone, and the next he was inside some gorgeous girl’s camper getting tended to before using a strawberry scented body wash in her shower. what the fuck was his luck? taking his time in the shower, rafe thought about how he’d explain everything to ward tomorrow, from the towed truck to the cuts and bruises.
he wondered if ward would even care.
by the time rafe was done, he was stepping out of the bathroom smelling like a slice of strawberry cake with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. he glanced over at the couch, your back facing him as you slept soundlessly. moving aside the pink curtain that concealed the doorway to your room, rafe slipped into the sweatpants you left out for him, settling underneath your silky soft sheets shortly after.
how was it that you just happened to be the only person around when he crashed? how did he crash right in front of where you worked? and why were you being so nice to him? rafe had so many questions and couldn’t think of any logical answers. he didn’t believe in fate, but looking back on it, that seems to be the only explanation. the next day he woke up to his clothes freshly washed and wearable again, your music playing softly in the kitchen. “good morning!” you chirped, your hair and makeup already done for the day.
“hey..” rafe was still shirtless, his eyes following your every move. “what time is it?” he took a seat at the little booth by the wall, his head no longer pounding the way it did last night. “it’s about to be ten. i was debating if whether or not i should’ve woken you up earlier, but you really needed to sleep.” you leaned back against the counter, admiring the handsome man in your camper. “your wallet should also be with your clothes there on that chair,” you started, “..so i was thinking; the little store just right outside of these woods has a pay phone that you can use.”
rafe nodded. “yeah, that sounds good.” he couldn’t think of the last time he woke up without wanting the day to be over with already. “hey, listen— uhm, i owe you a huge one for everything you’ve done for me.. i apologize if it was an inconvenience in any way, but i really do appreciate you.” rafe got up, grabbing his wallet from your room. “here. please take it.” you looked down at the hundred dollar bills tucked between his fingers, shaking your head as you moved his hands away.
“absolutely not.” you laughed. “no, please, take it.” rafe got closer, opening one of your palms before closing it around the bills. “rafe, i don’t want it!” you backed away, “i’m serious.” rafe let out a sigh. he already knew how this would go, so instead of urging you to keep it, he placed the money on your dresser after he was done changing. “well i guess i’ll be leaving now.” you masked the disappointment on your face by offering him a smile. “yeah, i guess so..” without saying a word, you and rafe stared at each other before he wrapped his arms around you, the action giving you butterflies.
before you could say or do anything, he pulled away and left, leaving your camper feeling more emptier than usual. you walked over to the door where you watched him walk away until you couldn’t see him anymore, a pout on your lips as you did so. while you were sure that you would more than likely never see him again, you couldn’t be more wrong. that day was the first of approximately one hundred and twenty one days, and counting, that you two would spend together. rafe came back to you the next day with a brand new pink cardigan to replace the other one you so selflessly let him ruin.
one icecream date turned into several, which then progressed into him coming over to your place with an overnight bag, his very own toothbrush now taking a spot next to yours. which then led to him picking you up and dropping you off at work, and so on until he finally said that you were his. you two spent the entire summer underneath the trees, rolling around in the grass as you two gasped each other’s names into your mouths, sharing sweet kisses and an even sweeter love that continued to grow with no intentions of ever stopping.
rafe had gotten sober out of fear that he wouldn’t remember what a love like this felt like if he was high all the time, and without judgement, you were there with him every step of the way. you stayed by his side when he felt like all hope was lost, and for that he could never thank you enough. although ward wondered where rafe would go off to, he didn’t bring himself to care as long as he was doing what he needed to do for the family business. with his dad off of his back, and you to come ‘home’ to everyday, he could say that he was truly happy.
even now as you two sat in your favorite diner, sharing a milkshake and laughing at whatever the other was saying, you felt no worries when you and rafe were together, your heart threatening to burst at the seams everytime you looked at him. everything was perfect.. at least for now. all good things must come to an end, and when you two are threatened by none other than ward himself, the love bubble you two have been mindlessly floating in is suddenly popped.
taglist: @percysley @oceandriveab @archiveofvirtue @weirdowithnobeardo @mattyskies @ankoluvly @cnnamongrl @b3bybunny @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @lovinqbella @jeonmochi99-blog @corpsebridenightamare @whorelaud @mymvlody @idontknowwhyimhere33 @ursovaine
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron series#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#drew starkey
442 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sukuna is sure there's something wrong with you for loving him.
He's not lovable. He didn't even know how soft love could be until you came around. Sukuna is a brutally honest man, but he can't stop muttering the lie "I don't love you" against your lips even as he kisses you
He lies a lot to you, he realizes. He lies when he tells you that you mean nothing to him, he lies when his fingers dig into your skin as he reminds you you're replaceable. He lies when he says you're stupid—you have a brilliant and creative mind he adores
He thinks you'll slowly fade away like all the things in his life eventually do. He thought his love for you would slowly flitter and diminish with time and he'd stop thinking about you constantly
Unfortunately, Sukuna wasn't familiar with love. He didn't know how unpredictable it could be at times, or how it worked. It brought out parts of him he didn't even know existed.
"I was offered a job in another kingdom."
He looks down at you. You're laying on his chest right now. A single, delicate finger moving across the dark ink swirling on his skin as your face is pressed lovingly against his scarred body.
His large palm drags itself over the nape of your neck and towards the back of your head. He gently fists your hair and tilts your head upwards so you can see his scowl
"You're not going anywhere."
You smile. It makes his chest feel tight and his heart rate pick up as you slowly lift your head off of his chest, criss crossing your legs as you sit up on the bed beside him
"Who are you to tell me what to do?"
If anyone else had even dared to think the words, let alone speak them, Sukuna would've sliced their body into more pieces than they could ever count. But you're a fearless thing. While people tie toe around him, you dance around the King of Curses like you couldn't care less.
He smiles. The gesture feels odd but his lips naturally curl upwards at your remark. One of his hands lazily caress your thigh as he gently nudges the fabric of your night gown out of the way
"Who are you to try and leave? You belong here. With me." Sukuna says lowly, his voice dropping an octave as he looks at you through half lidded eyes. You can see the amusement in his eyes as his fingers wrap around your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze before you sigh
"But what if I wanted to leave? You said it yourself, I am not a priority of yours here." You press, leaning closer with a small pout on your lips as he scoffs
"I don't care." He mutters, not meeting your eyes as he looks up at the domed ceilings above him. Sukuna's room was never a place he used to enjoy being in. To him, the golden furniture and high, carved walls never made him feel anything at all
Now, in the mornings, he'd wake up to you peacefully sleeping beside him. Curled into his side, your presence had become an unshakable thing in his room. Slowly, it became a bundle of passion and love for him to exist freely in.
"Just say you're in love with me." You tease, your soft laughter slowly pulling his gaze away from the ceiling as he watched you crawl back onto his chest, pressing feather soft kisses onto his jaw
He lets out a breath through his nose, mentally preparing himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth as he puts his hands on your waist to steady himself.
"I...I do." he mumbles, more to himself as your raise your brows in surprise
"You what?"
He grits his teeth, wondering why you're making this so difficult for him. Sukuna glares at you silently, hoping you'll be able to push past his arrogant words and see the underlying message
"You know what. So shut up and go back to doing that stupid thing you were doing." He concludes, referring to when you were tracing his tattoos. You laugh louder as your eyes crinkle in amusement
"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. can you try that again, your highness?" You smirk, pressing your palm flat against his pec as he scowls
Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't—
"I love you."
The words come out strained, almost a whisper as he stares up at the ceiling. His grip on you is tight and he absolutely refused to look down into your eyes. He knows your lips are probably parted in shock. Your silence is long as he awaits a response, suddenly questioning if he'd said the right thing—
Both of your hands grab hold of his cheeks, slowly turning his face towards yours as one of his arms instinctively reaches out to pull you closer
Your voice is soft, but the warmth and relief that spreads through his chest is a welcomed sensation
"I love you too."
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jjk x y/n#jjk sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen x you#ryomen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna ryoumen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jujutsu kaisen fluff#sukuna fluff
412 notes
·
View notes
Text
softcore siren | m. verstappen
warnings: 18+/ suggestive — minors dni.
softcore porn streamer max has been in my mind all day for some reason, so i wanted to get this little thing out for me + @thef1diary seeing as she was so onboard with it too. definitely want to delve into this more!! drop into my inbox and hit me with your thoughts on this! <3
softcore porn streamer! max verstappen is a man you accidentally stumble across one day when scrolling through the ‘just chatting’ category. the thumbnail for the stream is a still image of max in a shirt that fits his chest snuggly, strong arms bulging slightly as he has his arms crossed at his front.
he’s an attractive man— you can’t deny that— so you decide fuck it, and click onto the stream.
as soon as the stream and chat loads, you’re hit with a mix of of thirsting messages in the side bar, and max’s low, accented voice as he spoke to everyone. he isn’t talking about anything specific, just chatting away and answering any questions he can see in the flurry of horny messages.
suddenly he lets out a warm laugh, and it’s unexpectedly charming. “alright, alright,” he rolls his eyes playfully, “i see your messages. i see what you’re here for, calm down. we’ll get to it,” he winks, leaning right to the camera momentarily as he shifts himself upwards to sit in a more comfortable position. the eye contact through the screen causes a breath to catch in your throat.
as max sits back he stretches right up, allowing his shirt to ride up and give the viewers a sliver of stomach. you couldn’t deny your eyes scanned the area the full time it was on screen, silently begging it to go even further. then, max moved his hands behind his head, allowing his arms to flex with his muscles bulging through the-short sleeved shirt. his softer chest area became more defined as the shirt tugged against it, until he allowed his arms to fall to his side.
he topped it all off with what could only be described as a soft moan, his eyes fluttered shut and his freckled lip curving into a smile.
your eyes drifted to his chat once more, watching the flood of messages be sent in as max teased his body, adding a moan at the end of his little show. some people were begging him to flex his arms again, for him to go shirtless, whereas others took a more meme-like approach. ‘do you need a bra for them?’, for example.
you wanted to join in on the fun, so you did. you didn’t say anything extreme, more-so joining the thirsty comments but keeping your own tame. a simple ��god, you’re so fine?’, allowing it to get buried within the pile.
but it didn’t.
your eyes widened as your chat was highlighted with ‘first time chatter’, and fuck— since when was that a thing?
max seems to catch sight, raising a brow as he catches your comment and the fact you’re new. “oh? we have a new chatter, guys. welcome in,” he smiles, looking to the camera and winking. “appreciate the compliment.”
your breath caught in your throat at him reacting to your message and greeting you, that you didn’t even catch the amount of welcomes you got from his regulars. there were even a few ‘she’s so lucky??’ from others.
max grins before leaning back in his chair, his crossed arms resting over his front again. this time though he was pushed back a little more, allowing him to lift his foot onto his chair as he perched into a position where his thighs were in shot. and shit— you were not expecting that.
his grin only widened as the chat had another outburst about him, commenting about his thighs and what they wanted to do to them. though he was reading them, he had ignored them and went back to what the previous topic. “aww, no other message from newbie?” he fake pouted, before peering right into the camera lens once more. “don’t worry though, everyone starts out shy, confused. you’ll figure out soon enough why you’re here.”
and the thing is— he’s right. you do find out why you’re here.
you stay on the stream much longer than you had intended to, watxhing as he balances humour, flirtation, and just the right amount of teasing and mischief. you realise his fans aren’t just obsessed with his looks— they’re drawn to the way he makes everyone feel seen, chats to them like he would any other person.
by the end of the stream, you’re still not entirely sure how you got sucked into max verstappen— the softcore porn streamer on twitch’s front page. but as you close the tab for the night, your cheeks are hot and there’s a lingering smile on your face.
one things for certain: this wouldn’t be the last time.
⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? i hope you did! please come chat to me about it in my ask box! publicly or on anon— i’ll answer everything <3
#em’s fics#em’s filth#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen smut#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen drabble
421 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eddie hasn't answered the phone in nearly two days which, post Chrissy, post Vecna, post end of the world (averted), post every thing, is a wholly unacceptable amount of time.
Steve does a round robin on the walkie; everyone suddenly realizes they haven't heard from him either. Steve volunteers to go over.
He raps on the front door of the little two bed place Wayne owns now, a little government recompense after they took the trailer away to study, or whatever. Also quite a bit of 'take the house and keep your mouth shut,' kind of thing, Steve figures.
Wayne looks tired when he opens the door, kinda droopy, which Steve knows means he's really tired. Like, holding form is becoming a smidge difficult kind of tired.
Steve slips in fast, 'sorry Wayne, Eddie's van wasn't at his place so I figured he was here,' which he must be, because Eddie's van is here, and not outside his shiny new trailer, 'he hasn't been answering the phone.'
'He's here kid but he's kind of...having a rest day?' Wayne hedges. He's bad at lying, just like Eddie, Steve knows something is up.
'Can I see him, just for a second? Just check all is good?' Wayne gets Steve's protective nature, after everything that happened, he knows Steve likes to look after his people. He also knows Steve can keep a secret, only Steve and Robin know about Eddie and Wayne's shape shifting ability - carrying Eddie out of the upside down, convinced Eddie was about to die, only to have Eddie's glittery insides do something wholly unexpected was...well, Steve knows, is the thing.
Eddie also wins at doing impressions, since he can actually turn into movie stars, and that's kind of cool. Steve always likes watching Eddie turn back into himself though, maybe because of the crush he's been nursing.
Wayne caves, and Steve knows it's bad when he finds Eddie in the bin. He's shimmery and silver, and nearly tipping out the edges. He sloshes a little when Steve walks in, 'hey man, you didn't even make it to the bath? You want me to tip you out?'
Nothing, but the overhang wave of Eddie goo turns, hanging over the far lip of the big trash can. Like Eddie just turned his back.
'Uhm. I just. I just wanted to check you were okay? You know? Everyone's kind of worried.'
Eddie ripples. Like a sigh.
Eddie sloshes out of the bucket, his form building upwards until Steve is standing in front of...Nancy? Wearing a torn Dio shirt and plaid sleep pants.
'Eddie...that's kind of weird man.'
'I know!'. He waves Nancy's arms around, ' I know okay! But I can't stop it!'
'What...you're stuck? As Nancy.'
'Kinda', Eddie hedges, his ability to lie as bad as Wayne's.
'What does that mean?'
Eddie huffs, and shifts again...into Farah Fawcett. He crosses her arms over his now ample chest.
'Eddie...what is going on?'
Eddie shifts again, the hot brunette from the horror movie they watched two weeks ago, Steve can't remember the actresses name. He remembers saying she's hot though.
'Steve just...I'm having some kind of crisis, okay. It's just a bit of a...block. Just give me a few days and I'll be right as rain.'. Heather Locklear explains.
'Eddie...come on man, there's clearly something up.'
'This is so embarrassing.'
'Just tell me, okay? It can't be anything that bad, I won't judge.'
'It can be that bad,' Michelle Pfeiffer whines from behind her hands.
'Eddie...I'm not leaving until you spill.'
'I really...like you...' which, coming from Olivia Netwon-John, probably fulfils some sort of fantasy for Steve, but he has to remind himself he's thrilled to hear it from Eddie, too. 'So now I'm stuck, trying to be someone you actually want.'
'I...oh.'
'Yeah.'
'Well, I really want Eddie. So does that fix it?'
Brooke Shields cocks her hip and rolls her eyes, 'Steve, I'm not doing this on purpose, I don't have any control right now, so I don't need an empty platitude-'
'Its not. I've had a crush on you for ages. I'm not going to kiss you when you look like someone whose not Eddie.'
Eddie slowly melts back into himself, 'you're not?' he asks weakly.
'Nope, I can now though-'
'I'm back!!!' Eddie runs his hands all over himself, disappearing into the bathroom, checking the mirror he shouts, 'it's me! I'm me again! Oh thank fuck! Do you know how stressful that was! Having big tits is hell on your back-'
Eddie rambles, and Steve waits patiently for him to remember they could be making out right now.
Your friend, a shapeshifter (a secret you've kept since childhood) hasn't answered your texts in days, so you head to their home. Upon arriving, you find that they're in the middle of an existential crisis; they can't remember how to turn back into their original, human form.
#steddie#getting together#steve Harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#little story#idea from prompt#my writing
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
touch starved (one-shot)
summary: logan agreed to go out with wade, having been promised a low-key night, but he should've known than to trust wade for his word. he didn't agree to spend his night at a strip club and he's just about ready to leave until he sees you. pairing: worst!wolverine x fem!reader content warnings: explicit smut (18+, mdni), porn without plot, lap dance, grinding / humping, striptease, one night stand (you take logan back to your apartment), unprotected p in v (be safe folks!), cowgirl, reader takes charge (and logan's more than happy to let you take the lead), oral - m receiving, swallowing logan's release. basically this story is all about catering to logan and his needs 🙂↕️, reader description (only clothes and hair), no use of y/n. word count: 3k a/n: coming at ya with yet another one-shot of logan filth lol. my own headcanon is that logan / worst!wolverine is touch starved (just as much as he craves to be part of something bigger than himself). anyway, hope y'all enjoy - it's a spicy one 🤭 song: closer by nine inch nails
“You promised a quiet night out, Wade,” Logan snarls at the other man, hand gripping his glass of whiskey. It’s too loud in here, the music blaring from the speakers, the flashing dark red lights illuminating mainly the stage where women are performing. There are plenty of men surrounding the stage, alcohol in one hand and dollar bills in the other.
“I promised no such thing,” Wade grins. “I said let’s go out and you agreed.”
Logan’s jaw tightens and he looks at Wade with narrowed eyes. “You’re a fuckin’ liar.”
Wade laughs. “Come on, peanut! Have some fun. Let loose. Just sit back and relax–”
“I’m leavin’,” Logan interrupts, downing his entire glass before slamming it on the table. He stands up and gets ready to turn on his heel when he catches a glimpse of you at the corner of his eye. He turns slightly and watches the way your smile meets your eyes. You don’t look like you belong in a place like this, the other women wearing too much make up and revealing so much that it leaves little to the imagination. But you… You look absolutely breathtaking and Logan feels like he can’t move, can’t tear his eyes away from you.
Your hair cascades past your shoulders, your make up remaining light and natural. You’re dressed in an all black sheer robe with a lace cuff and satin waist belt. The robe is loosely wrapped around your frame, giving Logan a glimpse of your sheer mesh bra, the top of your bra trimmed with lace and when you undo the belt of your robe to reveal your lower half, he feels his breath catch in his throat. Your panties – or rather, your thong – matches the same style of your bra.
It’s so innocent in comparison to the other women in the strip club, and yet, Logan can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. It’s only when he hears Wade’s voice that he finally looks away, even though he’s yearning to just look at you again.
“Oh, someone’s caught your eye,” Wade grins, swaying in his seat. “Want a private dance, Mr. Wolverine?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan says. “Like I said, I was leavin’–”
“So soon?” you interrupt and glance between both men. You flash a smile in Wade’s direction who looks like he’s about ready to combust with excitement. He’s sipping his drink with a straw, grinning in your direction. Then, you glance over at Logan whose eyes stare directly into your own.
“Actually,” Wade says. “How much for a private dance…” he trails, staring up at you as he waits for you to say your name.
“Kitty,” you finish for him. “You can call me Kitty.”
“Very fitting,” Wade winks. “Well, Kitty, it’s my friend’s first night out in a very long time and I figured I can treat him to a private dance.”
“That’s very nice of you,” you respond, but your eyes never leave Logan’s. You can see his eyes flit over your frame, lingering on your exposed skin.
“Listen, you ain’t have to and–”
“How about the first one’s on me?” you interject.
“Sweetheart,” Logan mumbles.
You bite your lower lip and gently reach up to rest a hand on his arm. You can feel the muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt, can feel him flex it underneath your fingertips. Logan inhales sharply as he looks down at your hand, clearing his throat at your soft touch.
“His name’s Logan, by the way,” Wade chimes in, cutting through the tension with a quiet giggle.
“But only if you want to, Logan,” you whisper, moving your hand down his arm and to his forearm. You bat your eyelashes up at him, trying to ignore the obvious attraction you feel towards him. Truthfully, you’d rather spend the rest of your night with him rather than give dances to other men in the club – men who didn’t look like Logan.
Logan feels his resolve diminishing, but when he hears his name leave your lips, he nods slowly. “Y– Yeah, sure.”
“Great, come with me.” You smile and gently take his hand in yours. He looks down at it, taking notice of the way his large hand encompasses yours and he allows you to lead him towards the back of the club and into a much more private room.
Once inside, Logan hears the door shut and he turns to face you, his eyes lingering on your frame. He watches you walk towards him, hips swaying to the muffled sound of the music until he feels your hands rest firmly on his chest.
“You’re a shy one,” you point out, tongue darting out to lick your lower lip.
“Not shy,” Logan mumbles. “Just bein’ respectful, sweetheart.”
“Sexy and a gentleman?” you smile. “Mind if I keep you for the rest of the night?” you tease.
Logan feels a blush rise in his cheeks and lets out a quiet grunt when he feels you push him back against the large sofa. He stares up at you, eyes obviously now trailing your frame. He keeps his hands on his lap, though he yearns to reach out to touch you.
“Logan,” you whisper, moving your hands to rest on the backs of the couch as you lean in until your lips are mere inches from one another. You’re slightly bent over to be at eye level with him and you smile, catching the way he clears his throat. “If you don’t want to do this, all you have to do is say so, okay?”
“Okay,” he responds quietly.
You smile and gently press a soft kiss on his cheek, slowly pulling away to see that his eyes had fallen shut. You turn on your heel and walk over to the speaker to put on a couple of songs that you normally play when you give a private dance. Pressing play on the first song, you then turn around to face him once more. He looks so large in this room – his legs spread open on the sofa, broad shoulders and chiseled muscle beneath the fabric of the flannel he’s wearing. This was only ever a job to you, never finding anyone all that interesting or attractive, but Logan – well, you’d risk your entire job if it meant you can have him for one night.
As the first song plays and filters the room, your eyes meet Logan’s who is staring at you with an anticipated look on his face. His eyes move along your legs, up to your midsection and then up to your breasts and back down. Slowly, you remove your robe and let it pool around your ankles as you strut towards him. Your hips sway with each forward step and Logan lets out a shaky breath.
Once you’re standing in front of him, between his legs, you lean down and gently brush your lips against the corner of his lips. His facial hair tickles your lips and you pull back enough to stare into his eyes, lips slowly grazing his own. “You can touch me,” you whisper and move your hands onto his strong shoulders, slowly straddling his hips. “To be honest, I’d let you do anything you’d want to me,” you say quietly into his ear.
Logan’s large hands immediately move to your hips, gripping it tightly as you sit firmly on his lap. He’s so hard and he feels so embarrassed, but the look on your face when you feel him alleviates some of the uncertainty he’s feeling.
This isn’t the first time you’ve felt a man’s erection while giving them a lap dance, but it is the first time that you actually let out a quiet moan as you slowly roll your hips against his own, to the beat of the song. The tension between you thickens in the air and you stare deeply into his eyes as you try to remember the routine that you normally do for this song.
You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you
You let me complicate you
Logan’s hands slowly move from your hips to your thighs, his fingertips digging into the meat of your flesh as your hips roll against his. He clears his throat and watches as your eyes flutter with each movement. He has to wonder if this is all part of your act, that maybe you’re just acting like you’re enjoying this.
“Logan,” you whisper, moving to slightly lean back in his lap. You move one hand from his shoulder to reach behind you and rest on his knee as you lift your hips before coming back down on his lap. Logan groans quietly, almost inaudibly, as he moves a hand to splay on your abdomen, slowly moving it upwards towards your breasts.
I wanna fuck you like an animal
I wanna feel you from the inside
I wanna fuck you like an animal
My whole existence is flawed
You get me closer to God
When his thumb brushes against your nipple, feeling it peak beneath the sheer fabric of your bra, he has to wonder if maybe he crossed a line. Logan moves his hand away from you but you grab his wrist and move it back over your breasts. He smirks and wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leans forward.
You let out a quiet moan and feel a wetness settle between your legs that you have to lift your hips off of him, not wanting to stain his dark jeans with your arousal. Slowly, you stand back up and hear him let out a quiet, disapproving groan. You stand between his legs, moving one hand in your hair as you use the other to run along your body, grazing your own breasts and down between the valley of your thighs as your hips sway to each beat of the song.
You tear down my reason
(Help me) it's your sex I can smell
(Help me) you make me perfect
Help me become somebody else
Logan can smell your arousal, can smell just how excited you are and the uncertainty he felt earlier is now completely gone. His hands move up your legs, fingertips hooking into the thin waistband of your thong, but he feels your hands move to rest over his.
“Logan,” you say quietly. Even through the music, he can hear your voice, can hear the desire and yearning in your tone.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I want to take you home,” you admit, moving to sit back on his lap. “I know it’s very unprofessional, but–”
Logan grins. “Then take me home.”
—
Logan had told Wade what happened, the other man all too excited for him. He hadn’t expected this night to turn the way it did and there’s some part of him that doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but when he sees you step out of the club with that same sweet smile that meets your eyes, he pushes those feelings out of his mind. Because all he can think about is what’s going to happen next.
The drive to your apartment was short and the moment you step out of the car, Logan’s quick to follow you. He steps inside of the apartment with you and you shut the door behind him before you’re on him almost instantly. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and Logan’s hands move to rest on your hips. You stare up at him before you lean up to press your lips firmly against his.
Logan groans instantly against your lips, eyes falling shut as he follows your lead. You move one hand down his chest to his abdomen until it reaches the waistband of his jeans. He feels your tongue slide past his lips and he whimpers against you – he fucking whimpers. Logan’s used to being the one in charge that it takes him by surprise when you’re more than willing to take control.
When you undo the button and zipper of his jeans, you pull away. Your gaze darkens at the sight of him and you bring him further into your apartment, once more pushing him against your couch as he sits down with a grunt. Standing in front of him, you pull down your shorts and panties in one motion, grabbing the ends of your shirt to lift over your head. You stand in front of him, completely bare and exposed for him that Logan doesn’t know where to look first.
You’re so fucking breathtaking that he feels his manhood strain against the fabric of his jeans. Logan slowly pushes his jeans and boxers down his legs, catching the way your eyes widen at the sight of his erected length. He smirks to himself and undoes the buttons of his flannel, pushing it off his shoulders.
“Fuck me,” you whisper under your breath. “You’re so fucking hot, Logan.”
Logan bites his lower lip. He doesn’t have time to respond, to tell you that you’re the one who’s so fucking hot because you straddle his hips and take hold of length. He groans at the feel of your hand wrapped around him, lining him up to your opening. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to last – it had been such a long time since anyone’s wanted him like this, since anyone looked at him the way you did.
In his universe, everyone hated him.
But in this one – Logan has a second chance at living life the way he should have in the first place.
When you slide down his length, Logan’s hands move to your hips. He groans loudly, your walls surrounding his length – so warm, so wet, so tight. Your walls slide down every inch of his length until you’re seated fully on his lap. He looks up at you, sees the way your eyes flutter.
“God, you’re so deep,” you point out with a quiet moan, moving your hands to his shoulders. Holding onto him, you slowly begin to lift yourself before you slide back down. You can feel every inch of his throbbing manhood within your depths and he fills you so fully in a way that you’ve never felt before.
He shifts to lie on his back on your couch, staring up at you. Your hands move to rest on his chest, rolling your hips forward and backward. You can feel the hair at his base brush against your bundle of nerves with each movement, quiet moans escaping your lips.
Logan moans in surprise when you reach for his hands, lacing your fingers together as you press them above his head. He knows that he’s so much stronger than you, but he finds that he likes being at your mercy. You’re gripping his hands so tightly, pressing your joined hands further into your couch as you begin to bounce along his length. You lift yourself until his tip is the only part of him that’s within your depths before you slide back down, your tight walls sliding down each inch of him.
“Sweetheart, fuck,” Logan groans, squirming slightly against your grip. He feels your walls begin to tremble around him, can feel you tightening even further around his manhood.
“Lo– Logan!” you exclaim, moaning loudly as you slam down onto him. You shut your eyes tightly, slowly moving your hips forward and backward to ride out your high. You release his hands to brace yourself on his chest, the feeling of his hair at his base providing just the right amount of friction.
Logan feels a tightness building in the pit of his stomach and he gently lifts you off of him. You gasp, whimpering at the sudden loss of him before you realize that he’s close. You move down the couch and settle yourself between his legs as you take hold of his length, stroking him with a firm grip as your lips wrap around his tip.
“Fuck!” he groans, not expecting you to fucking suck him off. Logan moves a hand in your hair, tangling his fingers in your locks as he guides you along his length. Your hand strokes what your mouth can’t and when you hollow your cheeks to apply more pressure around him, Logan tosses his head back against the couch.
It’s sloppy, spit trickling down your chin as you keep your eyes focused on him. You move along his length, flattening your tongue on the underside of him as you feel each throbbing vein against you. Logan’s grip around your hair tightens and he lifts his hips slightly off the couch to push himself further into your mouth, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat as you gag around him.
Slowly, you pull away from him and smile. “Come for me, Logan.” Then, you wrap your mouth around him once more and bob your head rapidly, stroking his base. Logan shuts his eyes tightly, the tightness building once more as he lets out a loud moan. He gently pushes your hand away as he grips himself, using his free hand to pull you back from your hair as he releases into your mouth. He opens his eyes to look down at you, his seed filling your mouth and you eagerly swallow.
Logan groans, stroking himself to release every last drop of his spend into your mouth. You smile against him – you fucking smile with his cock in your mouth – and it’s an image that Logan will never forget. When you pull away and lick your lips, swallowing every last drop, you lean up on your knees and stare at him.
“Yum,” you grin.
Logan’s breathing heavily, moving one hand to rest behind his head as he looks at you with a small smile. “Didn’t expect this to happen tonight,” he admits. “But I’m glad it did.”
“Stay the night?” you ask.
Logan nods and sits up, gently pushing you onto your back as he settles himself between your legs. “Oh, sweetheart, I ain’t even done with you yet.”
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman character#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fanfic#wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine fanfic#worst!wolverine#worst wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#worst wolverine fanfiction#worst wolverine fanfic#logan howlett x female reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x f!reader#worst wolverine x reader#logan howlett smut#worst wolverine smut#story: touch starved
385 notes
·
View notes
Text
Arcane Imagines- Violet
Sweet and Sour
Requested by: @m0ranna "vi and a s/o who looks, seems and acts very soft but is actually a beast when fighting."
[arcane] [main page]
Summary: you and vi have been apart for some time, and when she sees you all the feelings come back.
“Hey, someone’s here for you.” Your only employee, Mexi says, you hum in response waving that you’re coming. You feel slightly grateful to stand up from your desk and be done with all the paperwork for just a moment. It’s been slow running Benzo’s old shop. Nobody has really come in, especially now with everything going on between Zaun and Piltover so money’s real tight.
You walk out into the shop from behind the counter after your employee leads you there. You look up with crossed arms. “What can I do for you?” Asked with a fake interested tone.
“[Name]? You own the place now?” A familiar voice rings in your ears. Your eyes widened to look more clearly at your past friend/crush. “Violet?!” You jump over the counter, pulling her into a tight embrace. You hadn’t seen her since that horrible, idiotic heist that went so wrong. “Hey!” She holds you close to her, before pulling you back to get a better look at you.
“You still have that sweet innocent look.” She whispers, pulling you into another hug. Taking in your scent as tears fills your eyes. “How did you get out?” You back away this time, holding onto her shoulders to make sure she doesn’t go away. “Uh, see that pilty officer out there.” She points to the dark haired lady standing outside the shop with her hands on her hips seemingly impatient. “Yeah?”
“Her, I don’t know why but I’m not complaining.” Vi chuckles and you smile at her. “Want to invite her in?” It stuns her when you offer that, even Mexi was taken aback. She gets nervous, walking into the back so she doesn't have to speak to an officer. “Eh, she can experience the undercity a little more.” Vi waves it off, jumping onto the glass counter to sit down.
“Looks the same in here.” She sadly sighs, browses the place. “Tried not to change it drastically. Benzo did a pretty good job.” You frown, thinking back to the man who was like a father to you. “Is Ekko…”
“Nah, he’s doing his own thing now. Unfortunately it's the same with your sister.” You groan, reminding yourself of the blue-haired girl's antics with Silco. “Powder? What do you mean unfortunately?” Vi perks up. “She’s not really Powder anymore.” You start, hugging yourself as you think back to when Ekko begged you to fight with the fireflies.
“Let’s talk about something else.” You pick up a random gadget, fidgeting with it in your left hand. “How’s the free life?”
“I want to talk about Powder.” Vi gets off the counter, walking towards you. “Vi, no. You’ll find out on your own. I really don’t want to get into this.” You tell her simply, pleading silently with your facial expression. She wants to argue with you, beg for you to say more but she can’t. Not when your eyes are full of fear and sadness. You’ve always been so sweet-looking. So kind to people, giving them the benefit of the doubt. Which is rare in the undercity. It’s also stupid to most.
“Okay, okay. I- I don’t know, I’ve only been free for a few hours. This was the first place I went to.” She averts eye contact now. “Hm, I’m the first person you wanted to see, huh?” You joke, there wasn’t really any other option sadly. “Of course.” Vi smirks, nudging your arm.
“I’ve missed you.” You turn to her, pulling her into another hug. “I don’t want to let go of you. It’s like you’re going to disappear at any moment.” You whimper out, trying not to cry. Vi’s face softens, kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’m not leaving again.” Her hands go to your waist just letting you cling onto her.
“I’ll kill you before you get the chance to leave me.” You say, causing her to scoff out a laugh. The door bells go off and you both let each other go to see that officer standing there.
“Sorry to interrupt, Officer Caitlyn Kiramman.” She bows down to you before looking at Vi. “We should get going, I have important things to get to.”
You raise a brow on why Vi needs to go with this lady so badly. Vi sighs. “Give me a moment.” She tells the officer whose face contorts into an annoyed expression. “I’ve given you quite a few moments to reunite with your girlfriend here.” Cait spits out, obviously very antsy to get where she needs to be. The both of you awkwardly glance at one another now with flushed faces.
“Uh, it’s alright. I’ll see you later Vi.” You chuckle, taking her hand in yours. “There’s a fight in that one arena we used to go to behind Vander and Benzo’s back. It’s huge and you should come. Just like old times.” You propose to her, your face full of hope that she agrees to come.
“You can bring your bodyguard too.” You tease making her playfully roll her eyes. Cait tries to bite back a smile at the joke. “I’ll be there. I promise.” Vi squeezes your hand before letting go. “It’s at the usual time as well, I hope you remember.” You tell her as she leaves with the girl. “Oh I remember!” Vi calls back.
When the door shuts behind them and the bells still ring in your ears you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Mexi comes out of hiding. “You two are dating?” She asks curiously. You choke on your spit. “Huh?”
“Well the officer said you were her girlfriend and neither one of you denied it.” She shrugs her shoulders, taking out her box of things to put away. “Oh, I mean we had a small thing as children but I haven’t seen her in 7 years. I’m sure she doesn’t think about me that way.” You ramble, putting the gadget back that forgot you were holding.
“I don’t know. The way she looked at you says otherwise.” Mexi winks, your face heats up. “Whatever.” You mutter, going back behind the counter and heading into the back to finish the paperwork you had.
•••
Vi and Caitlyn rummage through the crowd of people, trying to find you. “I don’t know if we’re going to find her before the fight!” Cait shouts over the yelling and the music that blasted. “I’m gonna try!” Violet huffs, shoving past all the people, getting to the front where maybe she could spot you on the other side of the arena. Her eyes traveled through the sea of moving bodies. “C’mon.” She mutters to herself. She didn’t want you to think she didn’t come. She had only made it five minutes before the fight even started because of what Cait and her had to do.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!!!” The announcer screams into the mic, only making everyone louder with their cheers. As he speaks, Vi only zones everything out, trying her hardest not to panic when attempting to find you.
“Isn’t that her?” Cait points down into the arena with eyebrows scrunched together. Vi’s eyes shoot down to see you standing there against a large woman. “Shit, what’s she doing!?” Violet urgently asks, gripping onto Caitlyn. “I think she’s about to fight.”
Vi gives her a dirty look, giving her attention back to the scene in front of her right as the announcer starts the fight. The woman attempts to attack you but you swerve out of the way. You look up to see Vi and Caitlyn. You blow them a kiss before turning to the woman and throwing a punch.
The lady doesn’t dodge it in time, getting hit right in the eyebrow. She tries to throw hits at you but you maneuver around them, hitting her in the right places to cause her to stumble. Vi leans over the edge, now cheering for you. “Kick her ass!” She shouts. Even Caitlyn was amazed at your fighting skills. She wasn’t expecting that from someone so… cute and sweet looking.
You swiped the lady's feet out from right under her. Going in for the punches. The larger lady attempts to push you away with no avail.
But when she sees an opening after multiple hits to the face she shoves you off of her. Getting herself up. You roll away, jumping to your feet, you weren’t paying attention when she gets a hit to the middle of your face. Violet gasps, nails digging into Caitlyn’s arm. The dark blue haired girl doesn’t pay attention though.
You spit out blood, wiping your mouth before going after the woman with more passion than before. Looking like a beast in the ring. You go right for her head, only taking a few hits for her to be back on the ground.
Not even five minutes into the fight and you win. Leaving her knocked out.
The announcer commentates as the crowd goes wild. Violet listens to all the people saying how little miss [Name] out there is undefeated. “Holy shit.” Cait whispers. You pump your fists into the air, jumping around for yourself. You have blood guzzling down your nose but you’re having a blast with the attention. You look up, locking eyes with Vi who has a look of bewilderment. You chuckle then motion with your head to the exit doors. She immediately understands what you’re saying. “Meet me at her shop, I’ll see you later.” Violet places a hand on Caitlyn’s shoulder before pushing through the crowd.
You and Vi used to sneak and see the fighters in the back frequently as children. Not to meet them or anything but just to say you were in the same room as them. Even then it was kept a secret between you both.
She sneaks through the men guarding the doors and slips into the very first room she can. Hands snake around her from behind. “Hey!” You scare her, making her jump away from you. She turns with her fists up in defense. You roar into laughter, mimicking her stance. She pouts from being made fun off and smacks your arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were fighting?! I didn’t even know you could do all that!” She exclaims as you grin.
“I wanted it to be surprising! Wasn’t I so amazing out there?” You lift your arms, flexing your muscles. “Yeah but honestly I did not see that coming from someone so… adorable?” She tilts her head as she tries to find the right word to call you.
“Awe I’m adorable?” You poke her side, heading over to the full body mirror in the room, taking the wraps off your hands. “I mean, you’ve always been pretty cute. Like y’know sweet looking. I’ve never seen you even hurt someone!” she maundered, speaking with her hands flailing trying to explain what she meant with bright red ears.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I don’t exactly enjoy being some beast fighter but it pays the bills.” You lean against the little table beside the mirror. Staring off into space at Vi’s shoes. “The shop not doing good?” Vi asks. “It’s seen better days. I have enough for everything except paying Mexi but I’m not letting her go. She’s helped way too much for me to do that.” You sigh, thinking about the young worker who you practically took under your wing.
“So you risk yourself so you don’t have to fire just one person.” She quizzes and you go to defend your actions but she just snickers. “Gosh you really are too sweet for your own good, [Name]. I love you so much.” She holds her stomach as she laughs. Amused by how kind you are. “You love me?” You attempt to tease her but her face drops, realising what she said. “I mean, yeah! I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” She speaks so nonchalantly it catches you off guard. When she said she loved you, you thought of it as a family thing. Not romantic. You weren’t upset but your mind was spiraling now.
“I’m sorry if it’s too much. I don’t even know if you have a partner already or something. I’ve been gone for so long I just. I’ve never stopped thinking about you even though we were only 15.” She over-explains, and you go up to her, putting a finger to her lips. “I love you too, Violet. I wasn’t kidding when I said I missed you.” You tell her earnestly, your hand going to her cheek.
Her shoulders drop, relieved by your words. “Oh thank god, I thought I had just scared you or something. I feel so stupid.” You shush her with a small laugh. “I forgot how much you talk when you’re nervous.” You whisper as she plants her forehead on yours. “I only do it with you.” She shamefully admits.
“Mm, really?” You ask before locking your lips on hers. She moans into the kiss, deepening it by bringing you closer to her. The kiss was rough, making up for lost time. Wandering hands over one another's bodies.
When you pull apart you grin, throwing your arms over her shoulders. “We're dating.” You state, not asking but telling her. She shakes her head. “I didn’t know that.”
“Well you do now.”
You peck her lips.
•••
Time passes and Vi comes into the shop whenever she can, you let Mexi watch over so the both of you can go out. Always in cute light colored clothes in such a dark place.
People never understood how you were so bubbly, giving to others and dancing in the middle of Zaun.
Violet loved it, watching as a street performer played and you danced to music. Children joining you. Even a few adults. It was these moments the undercity needed. A little distraction from the horrors about to come.
You’d have these sweet moments everyday and then night comes and you’re in people's nightmares. Fighting to pay the bills you said. Fighting to win and prove you’re more than what others call a weak minded, overly nice girl. And Vi’s there to support her girl through it all.
Loving every second.
#arcane silco#arcane x reader#arcane#powder arcane#ekko arcane#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane s2#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane season 2#arcane meta#vi x reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#vi arcane#vi league of legends#jinx#jinx x ekko#jinx arcane#jinx league of legends#x reader#reader insert#imagines#arcane imagines#arcane x female reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane x gender neutral reader#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#league of legends caitlyn
249 notes
·
View notes
Text
Survivability Bias Pt 5
Masterpost Ao3
“So hypothetically,” Superboy begins, glancing over at Robin. “Say I met another meta, and they, like, needed a civilian identity...” He trails off, listening intently. Trying to get anything from Robin's expression is pointless - between his skill at maintaining his composure, and the expression obscuring mask, there's not a lot to be read on his face. Instead Superboy focuses on his heartbeat, which speeds up the smallest amount as Robin turns away from the tablet he'd been working with, and settles his full attention directly onto Superboy.
“Hypothetically,” Robin repeats.
“Yeah. You know, in theory, if that ever happened.” Robin stares at Superboy for a moment, presumably reading everything that's missing from his own face in Superboy's.
“Well. In theory, the Justice League has the means to grant any meta hero a full identity. Is this about you? Because honestly it's insane that they haven't bothered yet, and I will straight up make you one right now if you-”
“No, it's not about me,” Superboy interrupts. “But like, you could do that? Without the Justice League’s support, I mean?. Like, say if this hypothetical person really didn't want the Justice League knowing about them?”
“You met a meta who doesn't like the Justice League.”
“I don't think it's really about the Justice League specifically. I mean, they definitely don't exist, but if they did, then I would say that the second I showed up they were bracing for a fight. Like before they even saw who I was.” Robin sets his tablet to the side without looking, and leans just a touch towards Superboy as he talks. It's honestly wild, he thinks, how the other boy can manage such intense eye contact through white lenses, but, well, that's the bats for you.
“Theoretically, I could absolutely make this person an identity, if they did exist. But I would want to meet them first.”
“Cool, cool,” Superboy says leaning back into the couch. “I offered to introduce you and they said they'd consider it. I think, maybe they don't trust adults very much, bc they asked if you were our age.”
“Theoretically?”
“Exactly.”
* * *
Though the specific details as to when the founding member first became acquainted, it was only after multiple incidents of near-worldwide devastation that they realized the necessity of an organized front.
The details of the forming of the Justice League should be fascinating, if only for the revelation that world-ending disasters are, apparently, relatively common in this universe. In a way, it’s a comforting thought. Memories of Dan sit as heavily as ever in Danny’s mind, especially now that he’s effectively lost his family, just like in Dan’s timeline. Of course, here there’s presumably no risk of him getting fused with Vlad, so probably that specific threat isn’t likely, but - well, if it comes to the worst and Danny does go mad, there’s at least a reasonably good chance that the heroes here will be able to stop him.
On the other hand, this also means that if the heroes turn out to actually be evil or whatever, he has less chance of getting away. Of course, Superboy hadn’t really seemed evil, but Danny really has no clue if he would even be able to tell. Sure he’d known Vlad was a nightmare from a mile away, but Vlad wasn’t exactly subtle about his obsession with Danny. Evil steeped in calculation would surely be harder to spot, wouldn’t it?
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” someone says from behind Danny. “But are you going to be using that computer for much longer?” Danny blinks, staring back at the teen who’s looking at him nervously. Danny glances over at the clock, but it’s now reading 2:30, which means that he’s been here for like three hours already,and he really hasn’t read much of anything in all that time.
“You can have it,” Danny says, pulling back to shove his notebook into his backpack.
“You sure, man? I don’t wanna chase you off, but I really could use it. Physics project, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it. Wasn’t really making much progress anyway. Might as well take a break.” Danny says. He never got to take physics in school, but he remembers struggling with lit class enough to understand the sentiment. And he really isn’t making any progress, if he’s been staring at the same Justice League page for multiple hours.
“You working on a history project or something?”
“Yeah.” It’s close enough to the truth.
“What teacher d’you have? It’s pretty cool that they’re letting you do it on the Justice League.”
“Oh, uh,” Danny quails for a moment, focusing on closing the tab so he doesn’t tell the kid he’s not going to school. After all it’s probably reasonable to assume the laws about delinquency are the same here. “It’s more about the meta protection acts than like, the Justice League itself. And I’m not really local, so...”
“Ah, that explains why I don’t recognize you,” the other teen grins.
“Yeah,” Danny says, stepping back so the other teen can take over the computer. “Well, good luck with your physics project.”
“Thanks, man, and good luck with your meta-acts essay.” The other teen turns his attention to the computer as Danny steps away, heading for the library exit. Clearly research isn’t going well today, and Jazz would definitely yell at him for trying to force his brain to focus when it clearly doesn’t want to. He pauses outside for a moment, trying to remember what Jazz said to when your focus was shot. Obviously part one was to take a break, but he’s certain that she’d had more to say than that.
He thinks he remembers her going on a rant about monotony, and boredom, but he doesn’t really feel bored. Actually more than anything he feels wired and anxious. And anxious means he should...
“Turn slow tigers into fast tigers,” Danny mutters, gaining a deeply confused look from the couple other patrons standing outside the library. He ignores them, though, and starts heading for the nearby park, so he can do some stretches. Fast tigers means he has to exercise, which he would usually complain about but- well, his routine has definitely been a lot less active since he got here. Other than the train crash the other week, Danny’s been spending most of his time sitting and reading, and while it’s been insanely nice to have nobody hunting him, honestly the idea of exercise sounds almost horrifyingly nice.
He does his best to run through the kind of stretches he remembers doing in PE, warming himself up as best he can before starting to jog the little looping path. The jeans make it a little more annoying than he remembers in PE, but luckily they’re kind of loose, so they’re not too terrible to run in, and Danny has no intention of going very fast. There’s too many people around even if he wanted to, and he does his best to be polite and not in the way as he jogs. it doesn’t take long for his breathing to go heavy with exertion, and as he finishes his second circuit, Dannyt relaxes into it, and just lets himself run.
Thirty minutes later, Danny is feeling markedly more tired, and he lets himself slow to a walk. His heart is thudding rhythmically in his chest, the occasional stutter only more prominent in the heightened pounding, and his legs feel a little wobbly, but he keeps walking, The sweat he’d worked up feels gross against his clothes, so probably he could’ve gone about it better, but Danny figures a whole thirty minutes without worrying about his existential situation is more than worth feeling gross for a bit. His usual tactic of sneaking into the local gym while it’s closed isn’t gonna cut it during the day, so he’ll have to wait to shower, but in the meantime, he can walk off the remaining adrenaline, and decide what to do for dinner.
* * *
“Hey, did you really mean what you said about me having a civilian identity?” Robin looks up as Superboy sits in the air beside his work desk.
“I have four different identities, ready for you to choose from,” Robin says.
“Wait do you just keep possible identities around in case anybody needs them? Is that, like, a Bat thing?” Superboy leans over to examine the tool Robin had been working on. Like everything else he uses, it’s emblazoned with a bat insignia, not that the marking does anything to help identify what the little machine even does. It’s ridiculously small, definitely not any kind of weapon, unless Robin’s been tinkering with the idea of murderous nanobots, which honestly wouldn’t be that shocking. Of any hero Superboy’s ever met, Robin seems uniquely predisposed towards mad scientist-type stuff.
“I keep exactly two emergency identities on hold, but those are separate. I was talking specifically about identities for you.” Superboy freezes, turning his eyes back to Robin, who looks at him like this is a perfectly normal thing to say. Superboy is at least ninety percent sure it isn’t, but what the hell.
“What the hell,” Superboy echoes his own thoughts. “Why would I ever need four identities?”
“You don’t need four, you need options. There’s no point in giving you an identity you hate.”
“Okay, but people don’t get to choose their names? So why would I care.”
“Most people don’t choose their names because most people receive them when they’re babies, but everyone has the ability to change it later if they decide they don’t like it. You have the unique advantage of being cognitively developed enough to have a say from the beginning, and you should have the opportunity to use it.”
“Huh...” That’s actually kind of sweet. “Do you like your name? I mean, like, that’s not why you don’t want to tell us, right?”
“My name is adequate,” Robin answers slowly. “It’s mine and I am... accustomed to it. The reason I haven’t told you my name is because it... implicates the other bats, and Batman considers that to be a significant security risk.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess that’s fair. Could I see the names you were thinking of?”
“Certainly,” Robin says, pushing back from the desk. “Let me get my tablet.”
* * *
“Uh, Superboy?” Danny shouts, trying to ignore how fucking ridiculous this feels. “Are you, like, free to talk? I think I want to meet your friend.” He’s hovering in the sky about a mile out from his town, in as close to the middle of nowhere as he could manage. He’d done a bit of looking into Robin this morning, before making his decision, and what a wild discovery that Robin was a name that had been held by multiple individuals. It makes him think of Dani, and he almost hopes that wherever she ends up, she might use the name Phantom too. After all, if anyone else rights to it, it would be his genetic clone.
Danny has no clue if time is flowing the same here as back home, but with any luck his friends have managed to orchestrate Dani’s escape too. It was always going to be a little more dodgy than Danny himself- his death being inherently tied to the portal had meant it was a bit more responsive to him than it otherwise would be, and that detail had been pretty quintessential to the rewiring that had needed to be done in order to send him to an entirely different universe, but they’d been hoping that her nature as a post-portal clone would mean that she had a close enough tie to the portal to send her through as well. Not that Danny would likely ever get to know for sure.
The soft rush of air alerted Danny to someone’s arrival, and he just managed to keep himself from falling into a defensive posture as he turned to look at the newly arrived Superboy, and the other teen being carried in his arms. Danny recognized the other boys outfit as that of the current Robin, who was now staring at Danny through a pair of disconcerting white-lenses set into a domino mask.
“We were free so I figured we’d just come meet you?” Superboy says with a nervous grin.
“Yeah, that’s, um, kind of obvious. Should we land?” Danny’s pretty sure that none of the Bats have flight, and like, as much as flying is cool as hell, Robin doesn’t look particularly impressed by it.
“That would be preferable, please,” Robin says, confirming Danny’s thoughts. He nods, and heads for the ground. Superboy follows just as quickly, and a moment later they’re all gathered on a gravel road in farmland.
“So, uh,” Superboy begins, once he’s deposited Robin on his own two feet.
“You told him about me before,” Danny says. Superboy may have had plenty of time to fly over here, but there hadn’t been enough of a delay to have explained the situation to Robin just now.
“It was an entirely theoretical conversation,” Robin offers dryly, before Superboy can respond.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that he was asking if I could theoretically help a meta acquire an identity if they were uncomfortable with the Justice League. Nothing of it was mentioned to anyone else and he told me no details about who any theoretical metas might be.” Danny blinks, taking a moment to process Robin’s explanation. In a way it makes sense, and he can see why Superboy would want to make sure that what he was offering was even possible. Besides, it’s pretty obvious already that they both really trust each other.
“Okay, sure. I guess I get it.”
“I would like to know why you’re concerned about the Justice League, though, if you’re willing to share. If there’s anything illicit happening-”
“Oh, no, it’s not like that,” Danny cuts in as soon as he realizes where Robin’s going. He’s suddenly glad he’d already decided to explain his situation in more detail. “It’s like, I’m not from here so my shit is entirely unrelated? It’s just, they’re -you’re?- associated with the government, you know?”
“And your government is a threat to you.”
“Honestly, everything was. But they can’t get to me here. It’s why my friends- that’s why I’m here.”
“Okay, but are you sure you’re safe? Because like, space travel is a thing, and if you need protection...” Superboy trails off, looking concerned.
“I mean, it should be fine? Even if the GIW did manage to figure out inter-dimensional travel, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be able to figure out where specifically I went, so yeah.” Danny really doesn’t want to think about a GIW that’s gone inter-dimensional.
“Well if they did manage to make it here, they would be breaching the meta protection acts if they tried anything, so I hope if that does happen you inform myself or Superboy.”
“Yeah,” Danny laughs. “It’s honestly been kind of crazy trying to wrap my head around the idea I have protections here?”
“That’s understandable. Plenty of meta-individuals have complicated feelings about them, even if they grew up here.”
“Oh?”
“Well, just because it’s illegal to exploit or discriminate against someone doesn’t necessarily mean it doesn’t happen. And metas who have been treated poorly often have trouble trusting in the protection acts.”
“Or sometimes you just didn’t get that info programmed into you and then you have to adjust to your understanding of history being manufactured,” Superboy mutters under his breath. Robin doesn’t react at all and Danny’s pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it either. The implications are a bit concerning, but Danny’s not about to press him on it.
“Yeah, I mean that’s kind of where I am, I guess. I think I’d like it if you’d be willing to make me a legal identity? I’m basically homeless at the moment, so I’d like to be able to get a job or something. But I’d really rather not end up on the Justice League’s radar yet. You guys seem nice, but databases are- a lot.”
“Easy enough. I can actually do it all with my personal resources, so the info never goes anywhere near the Justice League’s databases. We just need to determine what name history you want to have.”
“I mean, I’d like to keep my name, if possible?”
“Sure, What’s your name?” Robin tilts his head.
“Danny Fenton.”
#dp x dc#the one where danny stumbles into a new universe and immediately guns for nasa#that tag is becoming less accurate with how long its taking to get to the space camp part lol
197 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hot Shot
Pairing: NHL!Photographer!Reader x Hockey Player!Bucky
Warnings: Bucky being a heartthrob.
A/N: I've been reading one to many hockey romances and well here we are scratching an itch. I know I would like to eventually come out with a bigger story for these two but for now this is just the start a taste if you will. I'd like to leave this open to suggestion of what y'all would like to see or know about these two if anything.. Hope you enjoy the first taste.
You barely had a chance to unlock your screen to reply to her message before her caller ID
was taking up your screen, a recent photo of her and Steve that she had made as her contact picture pulling a smile onto your lips.
“Tasha.” you answer.
“Y/n, listen I know you were just planning on watching the game from the comfort of your living room but I mean talk about an upgrade! From a television screen to being at the actual game on the floor behind the safety of the glass getting some wicked shots, and no one captures action shots like you do - I promise I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” she tacks on her voice pleading.
You chuckle, you know had the circumstances been different she’d be one of the first ones at the arena, she hadn’t missed one of Steve’s games yet, not since you had been signed on. “Natasha relax, you know you don’t have to pull out the stops on me, I'll go - do you want me to send you the photos?”
The redhead turned blonde breathes a heavy sigh of relief, “oh god thank you! and if you don’t mind, but take your time, I’m sure a certain bruin's player is going to be demanding your attention after the game especially if they bag a win.” she teases seemingly mentioning the man in your DM’s.
Your cheeks warm, the unread notification from the player she speaks of appearing in your mind, “please Tasha,” you deflect, “it’s the game of the season he’ll have plenty of attention with all the puck bunnies sporting his name on their jersey throwing themselves at him for an inkling of his attention.” you murmur picking at an invisible speck of lint on your sweater as you stand from the couch, intent on getting your things packed to head out.
“And yet he only seems to want yours,” she sings, “you should totally wear the jersey I got you for your birthday.”
You roll your eyes smile pulling at your lips, “is your flight really delayed, do I have to text Steve?”
Your friend laughs, “unfortunately it is and hey thank you again for this, I owe you, love you, oh and send me a picture of Steve, one of you and Bucky too!”
You shake your head as your friend rushes out her farewell your screen now gone black as you look down at it “looks like pjs are out of the question for tonight” you murmur continuing on through your apartment to grab your things Bucky’s text still sitting in your messages unanswered.
He’d have his answer soon enough.
🏒🖤
The cool of the arena’s backstage floor seeps through your jeans, your tripod sitting off to the side, your camera nestled in your hands as you wait for the first few players of the bruins to make their arrival.
Your camera goes up; the first of the team to come through the backdoors is the Bruins coach Fury, he spots you smile on his face his hand coming up in a greeting as you get your first arrival shot of the day. Slowly players begin to trickle in, most of them spot you posing for you as they stride by, others walk by with a simple wave their heads already in the game.
Speaking of head in the game center Steve Rogers makes his way in, his suit pressed, duffle thrown over his shoulder as he owns the floor. “Looking good Rogers, say you wouldn’t have Natasha tucked away in that duffle by chance?” you tease grinning behind your camera. You laugh at the grin that breaks his lips, a shake of his head as he directs his gaze at you, “can assure you Natasha wouldn’t be packed in my bag, she’d be hanging on my arm.” You coo at the bearded blonde, “you think you can say that again I didn’t have my phone out.”
The two of you laugh as you capture a few more shots, “Come on Rogers leave some love for the rest of us, you already have your face glued on billboards!”
Left defenseman Sam Wilson is striding in next million dollar smile painted on his lips like the suit he wears on his skin. “But no one has their face printed on as many shirts like you do Wilson, now give me something new to look out for will ya, want to make sure these etsy sellers get only the best!” Wilson eats your words up, feeding the fans through your film. He comes closer kneeling to your level to pull you in for a hug, “it’s good to see you hot shot, thought you weren’t coming out tonight with how Barnes was moping.”
Your heart beats like a wild drum in your chest, “Tasha’s flight got delayed, cashed in her IOU, so here I am and surely your version of Barnes moping is different from mine.”
“Oh man you should of seen him, had to smack the phone out of his hands with how often he was checking it, you’re gonna join us tonight after the win right?”
“You Bruins are so sure about that win,” you laugh.
“That’s because it’s in the bag, hot shot.” It takes everything in you not to snap your eyes to the broad shoulder right defenseman sauntering into the building. “Here comes your boy.” Sam chuckles patting your shoulder as you find said man with your camera lens. You wanted to eat him up like he was eating at your film.
Like Sam Bucky strolls till he’s standing above you, grin pulling at his pink lips as he offers you his hand. You set your camera down gently against your chest before taking his offer, warmth seeping though you at your hand wrapped in his. “Thought you weren’t gonna show.” He murmurs watching you.
“Well as enticing as staying in my pjs on my couch with a glass of wine watching the game tonight sounded IOUs are a serious thing to cash in.” you say struggling to keep his gaze, you were certain you’d turn into a puddle of goo soon.
“More enticing then upgrading your lock screen?”
You let out a groan reaching out to smack his chest, but his hand captures yours instead keeping it there a teasing smile playing at his lips. “You’re never going to let that go are you?” you question recalling the night at the bar that he discovered himself as your lock screen. To be fair it was one of your favorite shots you had captured at the beginning of the seasons. It didn’t hurt that he was your favorite Bruin player to follow on and off the ice.
“Never, though I’m hoping by the end of the night ill see a photo of me after the win.” He chuckles thumb running over your hand.
“You’d have to secure a win first Barnes.”
Your breath catches in your chest as he closes the distance between the two of you, “I’ve already won though.”
Your reply is caught on your tongue, Fury voice breaking through the haze, “Barnes you’ll have time to catch up with y/n later get your ass in the lockers now!”
Bucky let’s your hand falling, chuckle brewing in his chest as he steps back, “hope you’re not watching Wilson or Rogers to closely tonight hotshot because this wins for you, and I’m going to be the one bringing it home.”
You watch him walk away, his gaze lingering on you till he disappears through the locker room.
And God how you hoped he would.
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au
240 notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: Pure as Honey, Twice as Tart Pairing: Bakugou x Reader Includes: virginity loss, corruption kink, miscommunication PB’s Masterlist
Your touch graced his skin once more – from his neck to his shoulder and down his naked chest. He sat still and tense underneath you, his hands haphazardly placed on your lower back. Gentle and timid. Much different than how you thought this would go. You pulled away from the kiss, pecking his nose lightly as you pulled away from him to speak.
“Katsuki?”
He stared back up at you through his eyelashes, brow furrowed deep, as it typically was. However, this was different than his usual scowl. Hesitance graced his features.
“What?” He grouched.
“You can touch me some more.”
Katsuki’s hands seemed to twitch, flexing around your body and pulling you further against him. “I–! I know that!” His grip lessened then, moving to your hips. Reflexively, or intent on teasing, your hips rolled against his, feeling his erection through his sweatpants. You felt him clear as day through the fabric, thick and hard, and pressing against your underwear. With how prominent the pressure against you felt, you were almost certain he wasn’t wearing any boxers. He pressed his face against your shoulder, almost like he was hiding, and he stifled a groan at the friction. You giggled, one of your hands finding its place in his hair.
“I mean like this,” you had grabbed one of his own hands and placed it on your bare breast. Katsuki pulled back to gawk at the squishy mound in his palm. He didn’t dare move at all; he simply held it.
“…Katsuki?”
“What?” Gruff, and yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tit in his hand.
“Is this your first time?”
At that, he finally seemed to be aware of having a naked woman in his lap. His ears were beet-red, the heat spreading down the back of his neck underneath your fingertips. Katsuki’s lips were sealed shut, reluctant to say anything for a change.
He started to pull away then. That’s it. It was done. The night’s over, time for you to go home.
That’s okay. You were patient. Or impatient.
You pushed back against him, but Katsuki’s hand had already fallen off your breast, and now you were just sitting in his lap.
Katsuki didn’t say anything at first, and you could see the turmoil and embarrassment behind his eyes. He was quiet. Katsuki’s a quieter man than you expected. He seemed to be waiting for you to take the lead, but he wouldn’t dare tell you that. He stared at you, at your body, expectantly. You gently took hold of his hand, bringing it back up to the breast he was holding. This was your way of telling him that it was okay to continue. That he didn’t do anything wrong. That he was doing a good job. That he was the one you wanted.
Katsuki stared at your breast in his hand and ran his thumb over your nipple, almost absentmindedly, like he was testing the waters. Or his finger was moving about curiously as he pondered your question. Either way, you wanted to encourage him – Katsuki was always a sucker for praise – and made him comfortable. You bit your lip to hide a devious smile.
Your back arched, pushing your chest further into his hand and let out a moan that you’d only ever hear in pornography. Okay, maybe it was a little dramatic for just having your nipple touched. However, Katsuki’s eyes widened immensely at the sound, looking up at your face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so astounded.
“That… That felt good?” It’s not often Katsuki seemed so unsure of himself. You nodded, reaching to pull his other hand up to your other breast. Katsuki held a tit in each hand, his wild eyes flittering between each of them and your eyes. He experimentally ran his thumbs over your nipples, a little more confident than before, and you gave him a show. Your back arched a little more, and you let out another moan, trying to encourage him to do more, touch more.
Katsuki chewed on his bottom lip at the sight. He honestly looked a little crazy with his bugged-out eyes. You had to hold back a giggle because the instant you make him feel insecure or like he wasn’t doing a good job, all of this would stop, and he would shut down for the rest of the week. Katsuki was a fearsome Pro Hero, but he could be rather childish when it came to his hurt pride.
You kissed him again. He was a little needier this time, almost as if he was falling victim to his lust. His ministrations on your breasts were becoming tiresome; his rough fingers moved the same ways, and your body was growing too tolerant of his touch for it to mean anything anymore. You gently cupped his larger hand and brought it down between your legs. You thought Katsuki was going to pass out.
He overcame, though. He watched his own hand, touching you through the fabric of your underwear with a hot blush on his cheeks and neck. His hands were one of the most attractive parts of him, in your opinion; however, right now, you were becoming frustrated with their lack of experience. The rough pads of his fingertips pressed awkwardly on your labia, seeming to be searching for… something… Katsuki glanced up at your face to gauge your reactions.
Unfortunately, you didn’t look pleased enough, and Katsuki took it personally.
“What? It’s… It’s here, isn’t it?” He sounded so unsure of himself, and it made you want to eat him up. Katsuki was frustrated that he had no clear vision of what to do right now. It was so different compared to any of his previous triumphs where he picked up on a task quickly and excelled. There was hesitance here — something he’s not used to experiencing.
You got off of him, then, and Katsuki’s nipples perked at how chilly the room was without your body pressed against his. You giggled, lying down on your back and peeling your underwear off. Katsuki’s cheeks flushed bright pink as he stared directly between your legs. You reached up and grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer.
“Like this…,” you guided his pointer finger to your clitoris. Katsuki’s eyes widened as you let out an exaggerated moan and bit your lip. You brought your other hand down to grip his wrist, contorting his fingers the way you wanted them. “You’re doing so good…,” you were good at pretending to already be breathless, even though all he was doing was flicking your clit.
Katsuki ate it up, though. He swelled with pride at your praise, his cherry-red eyes flickering between your cunt and your face. He became a little adventurous and dipped a finger inside of you. You keened, spreading your legs wider for him. Katsuki’s cock swelled painfully in his sweatpants, and it was getting difficult for him to ignore it. The rough cotton of his sweatpants was getting itchy against his sensitive skin, and you could see the frustration on his face. One of your hands traveled over to his waistband, and you watched his face carefully. To your surprise, he actually jolted away from you.
Katsuki’s never liked being touched. It took him so long to get used to holding hands, and even still, he preferred to walk alongside you; he only really became touchy when around a group of guys or in a large crowd.
You weren’t offended. He was fingering you, pumping his single digit in your warm cunt slowly and carefully, so you didn’t think it was ludicrous to ask him: “Katsuki, can I touch you?”
Katsuki looked bewildered. He was so shocked that you could so easily ask to… He was much more of a prude than people took him for. You began to wonder why you were so surprised that he was a virgin, now than you thought about it. He always looked uncomfortable during sex scenes in movies, and he never liked PDA – seeing it or engaging in it.
Katsuki stuttered, “Yeah…”
You wrapped your fingers around his waistband, your gaze focused on his very noticeable tent, and you gently pulled his sweatpants down his hips. You’ve seen him soft before – by accident, you don’t think he even knows – but this was a whole different deal. You couldn’t stop yourself from running a finger over the bead of precum on his slit. Katsuki hissed at the sensation, tensing. His finger had long stopped moving and was simply resting inside of you like a wine cork. You watched his face as you lightly wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking gently. His cock was hot to the touch, red and angry. His balls sagged, but every once in a while, one of them would tense up, almost like they were itching to release.
“Baby, keep fingering me,” you voiced, and Katsuki blushed, embarrassed that he paused his movements. He’s typically so good at multitasking. He couldn’t help but huff; he was failing you.
Katsuki pulled his finger out and jammed it back in. You gasped, or more like yelped. When you made that noise, Katsuki pulled back altogether, removing himself from you and your touch. He was cursing himself, ashamed that he couldn’t just get. It. Right.
“Katsuki, it’s okay. Here,” you reached out to grab his wrist, to try and guide him once more, but he yanked it away.
“No,” came the harsh reply. He turned away from you, glaring at the wall. He didn’t want you to see his face. You knew he was embarrassed beyond belief, but his ego was getting in the way. He needs to learn how to fail before he can get better at something. He needs to let you teach him.
“Katsuki, I can show you,” you pacify him, sitting up. Katsuki rolled his eyes and kept his head turned away from you as you sit closer to him.
“No. It… I’m not into it. Not tonight,” he snaps. He had pulled his sweatpants back up at some point between when he pulled away and now, but you knew his statement was as false as it gets. He was still hard as a rock. You were quiet for a minute, letting the silence talk for you both.
Before you can argue with him, Katsuki stands up and heads to the bedroom door with his hands in his pockets.
Without looking back, he says, “You… I’ll take you home if you want.”
You sit back on the bed, frazzled. This is what he does. He withdraws into himself. He shuts you out. He ‘messed’ something up in his head. Something went wrong. It wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t perfect. Now you’re paying the price for it.
#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#mha#bnha#mha x reader
176 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve was lying on the floor of Robin's room, his back against the wall as he let Robin paint his toenails while he flipped through one of her magazines. The radio played softly in the background.
"I am totally new to having a girlfriend, and by girlfriend, I mean platonic girlfriend," Robin said.
"Well, that's one thing we got in common, I don't think I've ever had a girl who's just a friend," Steve said.
"What about Perkins?" Robin asked.
"She doesn't count, I hated her. She's the reason Tommy became such an asshole," Steve said.
"Hm, yeah," Robin said and paused. "So, how close were you and Tommy?"
"Well, we were friends since we were eight. We pretty much bonded over the fact that we both had assholes for fathers. We shared everything and told each other everything. He told me about his first crush, and I told him about my first crush. We practiced kissing, practiced having sex, and when I got first kiss, I told him immediately," Steve said.
"Woah, woah, woah! Back it up!" Robin exclaimed, and she closed the nail polish. "What the fuck do you mean you practiced kissing and having sex with Tommy Hagan?"
"Exactly what it means," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "We hadn't gotten girlfriends yet, and we wanted to get good before we did. It doesn't mean anything. We like women, so it didn't count."
"It still counts!" Robin shrieked. "Did you or did you not put your lips on Tommy's?"
"Yeah, and I also let Tommy put his dick in my ass. I was basically his pillow," Steve said as he continued to casually flip through the magazine. "It doesn't count if you're not gay, Robin."
"It doesn't work like that! Steve Harrington, the first time you had sex was with Tommy Hagan!" Robin exclaimed.
"It was not!" Steve exclaimed, throwing down the magazine.
"Was too!" She yelled.
"Was not!" Steve yelled.
"Okay! So, let's say if I kissed you right now. . .," Robin said.
"Wouldn't count as your first kiss, you're a lesbian and I'm straight," Steve said.
Robin grinned, a manic look in her eye. She pulled her hand back and slapped Steve across the face. He screamed.
"Didn't count! I'm a lesbian and you're straight!" Robin yelled.
"Okay, okay, I see your point. Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?" Steve asked, rubbing his red cheek.
"Yeah, dingus, I did," Robin said.
"Okay, so my first kiss was with Tommy, and I lost my virginity. We're not gay, though," Steve said.
"No, just desperate and very horny teenagers, apparently," Robin rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you had gay sex before me, and you're not even gay. I bet you pictured some blond with big boobies."
"Well, no, actually," Steve shrugged.
"Hm, what do you mean?" Robin asked.
"I didn't have to picture a woman. I liked it," Steve shrugged.
"You liked it?!" Robin asked.
"Well, I am a man, Robin," Steve said.
"Uh, except not every man likes it when another man rams it up his asshole," Robin said. "Okay, I kind of wish I had been more delicate about this, but I didn't know this was you being in denial kind of situation."
"I'm straight, Robin, I like women," Steve said.
"Yeah, and did you know that you can like men and women?" Robin asked.
"What?" Steve asked.
Robin smiled and got up to pull out a box from underneath her bed. She pulled out a magazine and tossed it at Steve.
"Read it, study it, learn from it," Robin said.
Steve looked at it quizzically for a moment before opening it. He stared at it for the longest time before finally closing it.
"I am an idiot," Steve said.
"No, you're not. You just didn't know," she said softly.
"Bisexual," Steve whispered, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, this whole time, I thought I lost my virginity to Chrissy Cunningham."
"Chrissy Cunningham?" Robin asked.
"Uh, we used to hang out all the time before she started dating Jason Carver," Steve said. "Our parents ran in the same circles."
"Well, you know, I guess you could say you lost your guy virginity to Tommy Hagan and your girl virginity to Chrissy Cunningham," Robin said.
"Yeah, that's true," Steve grinned. "Thanks, Robin, and especially thank you for giving me that slap. I definitely needed it."
"Anytime that you want me to hit you, I'm your woman," Robin replied.
They moved towards Robin's window sill and sat on it, opening a window to get some fresh air.
"You know this means that I'm not straight," Steve said.
"Something else we have in common," she said.
"You ever wonder how many out there who are like me and who just don't know?" he asked as he looked up at the moon. "Here in Hawkins, I mean."
"Probably a lot more than we think," Robin said. "And they're out there, sitting in their closets wondering if they're ever going escape themselves or be rescued."
"Isn't crazy how we found ourselves?" Steve said.
"Maybe queer people just end up finding each other," Robin said.
"Well, maybe they'll find their way out themselves," Steve said and then he looked her, hazel eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Seriously, Robin, thank you."
"You did that yourself, you know, you just needed a nudge. I mean, you could have told me to go fuck myself and continued to live in denial," Robin said. "You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."
Steve smiled bashfully and glanced back at the moon. He looked at her, with tears in his eyes.
"Is it possible to be platonically in love with someone?" he asked.
"I think anything is possible," she said. "I think it's a definite because I know that I'm absolutely, platonically in love with you."
They dangled their feet out the window and leaned against each other, Steve resting his head on top of Robin's.
"I wish I'd known you sooner," he whispered.
"I wish I'd known you sooner, too," she whispered back.
They were here now, though, and absolutely nothing could get in between them.
Part Two
#stranger things#steve harrington#robin buckley#lesbian robin buckley#bisexual steve harrington#robin & steve#platonic stobin#platonic soulmates#platonic with a capital p#past stommy#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes#rueleigh's thoughts
185 notes
·
View notes
Text
Picture it with me people
Season 16. Opens with Dean realizing Heaven isn’t good. He’s having these memories of him and Cas through the years and is just like ‘if this was heaven he’d be here’ type shit you know
Supportive Sam and him break out and try to go rescue Sam from the empty. Dean is depressed as hell as always, but he has a purpose now so he’s compartmentalizing, but we continue to see memories. At first, they were all bro-like shit (as much as Destiel ever can be so still romantic lmao) but it starts transferring into stuff we’ve never seen before.
A night in the Dean Cave just them and they keep just looking at each other. [the audience can’t tell if it’s sweet or if they are getting second hand embarrassment since Dean’s fucking 40 and Cas is billions of years old]
A time where Cas heard about the kiss it better thing and fucking DID IT when he cut his hand or some shit. We begin to realize they might have been slightly more aware of things that we were led to believe.
There’s more chill domestic stuff but the kiss it better thing comes up once or twice more. Enough to show us that’s one of their weird little rituals that no one knows about; but ITS A THING!!!
Cas is saved. There’s hugging and intense eye contact. Sam is there. He gets a hug too and suddenly they are having trouble looking at each other. Dean is distraught. He’s fucked up about feelings, he can’t voice this shit! He tried in purgatory but Cas didn’t let him, but now, now he can’t. He keeps trying to talk to him; Cas is sure to remind him he is okay and knows Dean doesn’t feel a certain way.
He’s frustrated. Why is Cas making this so difficult?? How does he have no clue? Surely he’s aware how he acts with Cas is VERY different to how he acts with everyone else/how everyone else acts with him?
It comes to him suddenly when he bangs his hip on the counter. As he swears (loudly) a little voice in his head is saying ‘Cas needs to kiss it better’. And then he knows. Since he was rescued, they’re little rituals have gotten infrequent and awkward. Cas doesn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable after all! He knows now!
Dean runs. Bangs on Sam’s door. Sam opens it, it’s late, he’s annoyed. “What, Dean, why do you look so excited?” He’s doing his bitch face
“Sammy, punch me in the mouth” he prepares himself for the punch, he can hardly stop grinning. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, the freak.
“Dean? What? Why would I punch you?” Sam is perplexed. He’s concerned. He would love to punch Dean (lol)
“I need you to. It’s important, please, Sam”
Eileen hears them and comes to the door as well. Sam explains what’s going on while Dean looks at her and pleads to punch him. She clearly realizes something Sam doesn’t becuase she starts cackling before winding back and punching him. Hard. His lip splits, and he grins around slightly bloody teeth before waving goofily and turning to go while Sam throws up his hands in frustration because What! The! Fuck!
Anyways. Dean marches down the hall. He’s nervous. He knocks. Cas answers. He looks down at Dean’s fucked up bloody mouth and is like Dean! What happened! Who must I kill! And Dean’s like it’s all good man but 😔👉👈it hurts
Cas is all; let me heal you…and Dean’s like OKAY THAT’S FINE WITH ME HA HA
There’s a bit of staring while Cas tries to figure out what’s going on and he slowly raises two fingers before Dean slowly pushes his hand down. He doesn’t let go of the loose grip on his wrist. His hands are shaking a bit. Cas is feeling a little rejected, he can’t even heal Dean now? But Dean is so close, and he’s still holding his wrist? Why is he shaking a bit? What’s go- oh. Oh oh oh oh
Cas very tentatively leans forward and presses tiny little delicate to Deans mouth as he heals him and cdjrjgfjejficsjtjvisjtv
Anyways they kiss a lot yay the end
dean: ow, fuck. i cut my finger.
cas: here, let me kiss it better.
dean, blushing furiously: oh- uh- okay.
[later]
dean: sammy, i need you to punch me in the mouth.
sam, already winding up: done.
#destiel#well. destiel and sam.#gosh it needs to happen#why did I write this? I don’t know fucking sue me there are BUGS in my BRAIN
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding
In which you and Max tie the knot.
Warnings: just fluff. a bit of anxiety talk but nothing Max can't fix. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k
- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - Master List
After getting engaged, there were two things that you and Max almost immediately agreed upon: first, because so much of both of your lives were already available for public consumption, you wanted to protect the peace and privacy of your wedding as much as possible. And second, you didn’t want to wait until the next summer break to get married.
Growing up, it was a cliche fact but a fact all the same, that you often thought of what you wanted your wedding to be like. You were even very much guilty of having secret wedding Pinterest boards set up all through high school and college. But the moment the even presented itself in real life, you suddenly felt choked by the weight of what a big wedding could entail.
It had been Max that had suggested the solution in the end, his idea passed by you casually one night as you walked hand in hand back to your hotel after dinner before the race in Italy. He had sensed your hesitation around hosting such a big, over the top wedding that everyone seemed to assume you wanted. The spark in your eye faded just a bit when Alex and Carmen had started talking about wedding venues and guest lists and he hadn’t missed the way your shoulders hitched up a bit more towards your ears as you listened to your friends ramble.
“What if we just eloped?” He works to keep his tone causal, not wanting to give away how appealing that idea sounds to him. He wants you to choose the kind and scale of wedding you want all on your own because he knows you’d do anything for him, right down to agreeing to plan a wedding that doesn’t suit you at all.
You stop dead in your tracks, Birkin bag swinging wildly at your elbow from the sudden halt. “What?”
Max sticks his hands deep in the pockets of his khakis, giving you a knowing smile. “You heard me. What if we just said ‘fuck this’ and ran off to the beach and got married by some old fishing captain. Captains can legally marry people, right? That’s a thing?”
Not for the first time in your relationship, you’re stunned into silence at something your soon-to-be husband says. For a moment all you can do is blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s fucking with you or not. “You’d…you’d want that?”
Max steps forward, earnest look on his handsome face. “Baby,” He murmurs, framing both sides of your face with his strong hands. “Baby, I’d marry you in an alley way in the middle of New York City. I don’t care where or how, all I care about is that we come out at the end of this married and tied together for life. I don’t care about the wedding, I care about the marriage.”
Max watches as your pupils blow wide, shy smile tugging at your lips. “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Max’s forehead rests on yours and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Well, it’s true. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams because I know that will make you happy but other than that, I don’t care.”
He’d do anything to make sure you were happy, knowing it was just this side of obsessive the way he took you into consideration with every decision he made. Standing opposite of the man who consumed your entire soul, your stomach dipped low, the pleasant swooping sensation something you’ve become accustomed to over the last year. “I just feel so overwhelmed. Both of our lives are already so public and under scrutiny. I want this to be something that we can cherish without any of the potential tarnish of what it means to be so public.”
You shake your head, feeling a little silly and what you’re feeling. “I love our lives and know we’re privileged to live like this but sometimes I just want to have something that’s just ours. I want to share our love and relationship with everyone but maybe we could just shield some of it from the world?”
An idea forms in Max’s head then. “What if we eloped somewhere just the two of us and then have a party to celebrate with everyone after?”
You nod, “Have is quietly ours for a while before sharing the news with everyone?”
Max reaches for you, enjoying the way you press against him with ease. It’s a warm Italian summer night, the scent of perfumed flowers and left over sunshine hung heavy in the air and you wanted to snap this moment into something that stayed with you forever. Max’s hands heavy on your hips, digging into the flesh there as if he can’t get enough of you despite not leaving your side for the last 24 hours.
Ever since getting engaged, you’d hated spending any length of time away from Max, almost like your soul had already started to twin itself to him. It made leaving difficult but returning was always so sweet. You had this weekend in Italy before you had to leave on another trip but you’d been considering ramping down your travel over the next few months. But, that was another conversation for another day.
“Where would we go? And when?” The more you thought bout it, the more the thought of what Max was suggesting appealed to you.
Max releases you before taking your hand as you two start back towards your hotel, feeling a bit lighter at seemingly solving the problem that had been weighing on you for a few days.
“We could do it this winter? There’s always a total shut down of everything that week between Christmas and New Years. We’d see our families for Christmas and escape saying we were just taking a trip the two of us.”
You grin up at him, liking where he was going with this.
yourpersonalinsta posted
129,938 likes liked by yourdad, assistantshannon, maxverstappen1, and others yourpersonalisnta sun, sand, and a very cute finace kikagomes is this that place in Mexico you were talking about?! It looks so pretty! >>>yourpersonalinsta yes!!! it is gorgeous. you and P need to come here some day. alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl >>>yourpersonalinsta love you bby user029 dream life fr user0092 looks like paradise! tell max congrats on his 5th title for us!!
December, 2025
The warm ocean breeze fluttered through the wide open doors of the villa behind you as the bright December sun heated your skin where you laid on a lounge chair. Next to you, Max was sprawled out on on the chair next to you, snoring softly as he took what you thought might just be his third nap of the day.
Ever since the pair of you had arrived in Mexico a few days ago, you hand’t done much beyond sleep, eat, and fuck. The 2025 season had been the most stressful, chaotic, out of control season Max had ever had and while he had managed to clinch the championship on in Abu Dhabi from Lando, but it had been a difficult ride to get there. So when Christmas had been celebrated and you had jumped on the jet to fly from Monaco over to Mexico, you couldn’t help but continually breathe a sigh of relief.
The fight had truly weighed on Max, the hollows underneath his eyes growing more and more prominent as the race weeks ticked by. The only relief he had gotten had been your midseason trip to Thailand when he had proposed. When Jensen had asked him what had gotten him through the difficult second half of the season during an interview after he won the championship, his immediate answer had simply been you.
Much to the disappointment of your fans, you had decided to really ramp down the amount of travel and work you had done following the summer break. Max had been resident at first, not even wanting to entertain he conversation at first when you had brought it up shortly after it had been decided you were going to elope. He didn’t want to even think of you putting your career on hold for him, to take care of him, to follow him. Not because he didn’t want you around. It was the exact opposite. Just the thought of you spending more time traveling with him instead of the insane schedule you’d been keeping over the last year had relief flooding through him. While he was tired from his schedule and the pressure of winning a 5th consecutive world title, he knew you were tired too. There were many times you both went weeks without setting foot in your shared apartment and sometimes you’d go weeks between seeing each other too.
No, it wasn’t because he didn’t want you around. It was because he didn’t want you to resent him one day down the line that you had given up your career for him. He couldn’t bare the thought of being the cause of any resentment or heartache for you and despite how much he wanted you by his side every possible moment.
In the end, reason had won out as you had explained that you weren’t taking a break because of him. He was certainly part of it, but like him, you were exhausted. You reminded Max of Brazil last year, how you had slept for so long the day after the race there that Max had postponed your flights home for another week he was so worried about you getting sick.
You had done a few interviews since the engagement, mostly with people in the motorsport world: Susie and Toto Wolff, Natalie Pinkham, and of course Lewis being your biggest interviews. In addition, you had done some post race interviews and coverage for F1TV, which allowed you to have even more of a reason to be in the paddock week in and week out. You weren’t sure where your podcast was going in the future, but for now, you were content with the schedule and where you were professionally, despite what some of your critics might be whispering.
All of this works through your mind as Max begins to stir beside you. His eyes blink open eventually and when they do, they immediately find you. “Hi baby.” He whispers, voice rough with sleep.
“Good morning, sleepy head.” You grin, setting your book down beside you as Max rolls over onto his side, creating some space for you on the oversized lounge chair, beckoning you to join him.
As you snuggle deeper into his chest, Max slots his thigh between your legs and slips his top arm over your waist, pulling you closer. “You looked deep in thought. Everything okay?” He murmurs before his lips ghost over your cheek.
“Hmmm, of course. Just thinking about this year and how good it feels to just breathe.”
Max could tell when you got in one of your thinking moods just by the way your body language shifted. In those few moments between when he had woken up and you had noticed his eyes open, he had watched you staring out over the villa’s lawn. Your shoulders were relaxed, the usual pinch between your brows completely absent and with legs crossed at your ankles as you read your book, you had looked the picture of relaxed.
“You still feeling okay about tomorrow?”
Just the thought of what tomorrow would bring made your heart rate pitch up a bit. The first morning after your arrival, you and Max had gone over to the concierge in the main reception building to tell them of your plans for an elopement. They had, of course, been ecstatic and ready to help you in whatever way you wanted. After a few hours of discussion, you had everything planned and the concierge snapped into action.
“I am…unless you’re not?” It occurs to you that Max has been awfully quiet this morning, a soft reflective mood taking over his usual energetic attitude and suddenly, anxiety pinches in your chest. You desperately search Max’s face for any sign of hesitation or regret, not knowing what you’d do if he suddenly got cold feet before tomorrow.
Max shakes his head before pulling you even closer, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your hip, covered only by the little string of your bikini that you’ve been living in since you got here. “Lifeje, stop that. You know I would have married you the moment after I proposed to you months ago.”
Something settles in you at his words, having just needed that little bit of reassurance from him. As hard as you tired and as much as Max made sure to never leave any doubt in your mind that he was all in with you, you sometimes still found your anxiety getting the best of you. Scenarios about how Max was having second thoughts, how he didn’t really want to marry you, how this was all in your head sometimes ran rampant in your head. You were getting better at controlling them, especially after he had proposed but that was the funny thing about anxiety, you couldn’t always control it.
“I know.” You whisper, fingers trailing up and down his toned arm that was wrapped around you tightly.
“Anxiety?” It was almost spooky how well Max could read you from just a shift in your tone of voice. All you could do was nod, suddenly feeling silly. Max rolled his hips into yours, pulling your lower half closer. “Do you feel what you do to me?” He asked, pressing his already half hard cock into your center. “Do you feel what you do to me just laying here? All you have to do is look at me and I’m a goner. There isn’t a single second thought in my mind, love.”
“I’m sorry I’m hard to love sometimes.” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as Max lifts your chin so he can have a better look at you. “I’m sorry you have to constantly reassure me despite not giving me any reason to doubt you. I know it can’t be easy.”
You had spent most of your adult life being told how difficult you were to love. How hard it was to deal with the constant reassurance you needed when the anxiety crept in, telling you you weren’t good enough. It was unnerving sometimes when Max loved you so easily and effortlessly because how did he find it so easy to do when no one else before him had?
Max pulls back so he can get a good look in those pretty eyes of yours. It made him rage internally knowing how insecure you were. Not because he faulted you. Oh, absolutely not. He raged at the people that made you feel like you were inferior and hard to love because that was something that he simply didn’t see. Loving you and being with you was the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life.
“I want you to listen to me, okay?” He waits, brows raised, until you nod. “I will gladly spend the rest of my life telling you how much I worship you whenever and however you need or want me to. When I take those vows tomorrow, I mean it with every bit of my soul, schatje. For worse or better, you’re mine and I’m yours from tomorrow on, okay? You are not hard to love and I am so lucky I get the privilege of telling you every single day how much I love you.”
Your mind settles a bit at his words as you let the sensation of having Max so close to you wash over your anxious nerves. “How did I get so lucky to have you?”
“Oh, sweet girl it’s not you that’s lucky.” Max leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips as you sigh into him. “I’m the lucky one that somehow coincided you to love me back.”
There were only two people in your lives besides you and Max that knew what you two were really doing in Mexico. GP because Max was physically incapable of keeping anything from his race engineer and your assistant Shannon. GP had called Max out on his sudden change in demeanor in Italy after the decision to elope had been made, asking Max what had happened in the previous 12 hours to make him not so grumpy when he showed up to the track that morning. Max being a terrible liar when it came to GP had been unable to think quick enough to come up with an excuse and when he had simply looked at GP with a deer in the headlights look, he had fessed up and spilled the beans. When you had found out that Max had told GP you had sworn the race engineer to total secrecy, telling him you’d cut off a very important body part of his if it got leaked.
Shannon was the other person that knew and it was only because you had needed help with choosing and figuring out how to sneakily order, tailor, and pack a wedding gown without anyone getting wind of it. You knew if the paparazzi had caught sight of you leaving a bridal boutique with a dress in hand nearly a year before you had told everyone else that you were planning on getting married, people would talk. So, with Max’s approval, you had enlisted the help of your personal assistant who had honestly turned into one of your closest friends over the time that she had worked with you.
It had been Shannon that helped you choose the dress that you wore the morning you married Max, the white lace clinging to every curve and valley of your body. It was just going to be the two of you, the officiant, and the photographer there and the utter quiet and simplicity of getting ready in complete silence and peace was something you would cherish for the rest of your life. Max had left the villa about an hour ago, telling you he had a few errands to run before the officiant would turn up for the ceremony. What kind of errands could he be doing in the middle of a luxury resort in the middle of the Mexican jungle, you had no idea but you hadn’t asked any questions because you wanted the time alone to get ready.
You’re just slipping on the second thin strap up over your shoulder when there’s a knock at the villa door moments before it swings open. Max comes bustling in, wearing the khaki pants and white linen shirt you had chosen for the beach nuptials. He’s got a fresh haircut and shaved face, his bright blue eyes looking for you the moment he walks in the door. In his hand dangles a little black bag with silver ties that doesn’t look big enough to hold much more than a small box or two.
“Lifeje, where are -” Max stops in his tracks when you round the corner out of the bedroom and he sees you for the first time. His hand goes straight to his sternum, rubbing at the place that is suddenly aching at the mere sight of you. He had thought he’d been prepared to see you in your wedding dress but what he saw in front of him made every coherent thought tumble right out of his head. If he had thought you were the prettiest woman he’d ever seen before, seeing you standing there before him in the white lace dress with it’s plunging neckline and fabric clinging to your every curve, just confirmed that he was the luckiest person in the entire world. “Christ.” He whispers, unable to move from the spot he’s rooted to.
You let out a little uncertain giggle, tucking a piece of hair that you had left out of the sleek low bun you had styled your hair in for the day behind your ear. “Do I look okay?”
Max finds the ability to move then, crossing the room in just a few strides, suddenly needing nothing more than to touch you. He had to know what that lace felt like under his fingers, had to know if your skin looked as radiant up close as it did when he had first walked into the villa.
“I am so glad I wrote my vows down because there is no way I’m remembering anything while I look at you.” He croaks, voice becoming totally unreliable with emotion just seeing you dressed like this solely for him brings up. “I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life, schatje. ”
And it was the truth. Max had never seen anyone as gorgeous as you were standing there in that white dress, veil tucked into the top of your bun so it cascaded down over your shoulders. The dress pools at your feet and dips low in the back, showing off the tanned and toned body you work so hard for. At your ears wink the diamonds Max had gotten you for Christmas just a week earlier. A diamond and sapphire necklace set in platinum sits at your throat, also a gift from Max for your one year anniversary earlier in the year. Seeing you wearing the jewels that he’s bought for you does something to Max, a possessive streak proudly zipping through him at the thought of you dripping in expensive baubles that he’s bought you.
“What’s in the bag?” You ask as Max settles his hands low on your hips, still checking you out with absolutely no shame whatsoever.
He seems to remember that there’s something else in the room other than you then, holding the bag out to you with a sly grin on his face. “I know we said our wedding bands were going to be our presents to each other but I saw this the other day when we were out shopping in that little jewelry store and had to go back to get it.”
You raise a brow but know better than to argue about Max spoiling you. It’s a lost cause at this point and you settled for just accepting the pretty things he liked to give you simply because he loved seeing you in them a long time ago. You take the bag from his hands and reaching in, you pull out a long, slender velvet box.
When you open the box, you barely stifle a gasp at the delicate bracelet sitting on the black satin. It’s the diamond and pearl tennis bracelet set in platinum that you had casually looked at yesterday when you and Max had gone into town to do some shopping and had mentioned in an off handed comment that you had liked how the pearls and diamonds worked so well together, although you had ultimately decided not to get it because of the price tag and the fact that you thought you’d never have anywhere to wear it.
“Max.” You whisper, gaze darting up from the box to Max’s own eager look. “It’s…it’s so pretty I don’t have the words. You spoil me.”
“And I’m going to continue to spoil you for the rest of our lives, lifeje. Now, can I put it on you so you can be dripping in diamonds for our wedding day, please?”
You laugh a little, somehow unsure of how you got this lucky to be here in Mexico marrying the man that literally worships the ground you walk on.
“Now, I understand that you both have written your vows for each other. Max, would you like to go first?”
Later that afternoon, the two of you stand barefoot on the beach, a gentle breeze teasing the veil at the back of your head, while the officiant the hotel recommended stands before you. The atmosphere could not be more perfect. The sun hangs low in the sky, sunset just an hour or two away so the golden rays cascade over you and Max. Behind you, the photographer you hired snaps discreetly away. The fact that it’s just the four of you on the beach witnessing this could not have been more perfect.
Max stands opposite you, large hands swallowing your smaller ones, and takes a deep breath. You can see the emotion playing plainly on his face and know he’s going to have a hard time getting through these words. For the outside world, Max Verstappen is a hardened competitor that takes no shit and will do anything to win. But here? On the beach with just you and 2 others as he professes his love and adoration to you, he’s as soft as kitten and almost more emotional than you are.
He couldn’t have been happier at his decision to write down the words to his vows because the emotions that swirled in him then, as he stands there looking at you in your wedding dress is so overwhelming he can barely put together a coherent thought. Here he was, the man that has won five world championships and zips around a race track at 200 miles per hour regularly, completely unable to speak he’s so happy.
The paper is a bit crumpled when he pulls it out of the pocket of his khakis but it’s fine all the same. He clears his throat nervously and then begins. “When Melissa suggested I go on your podcast, she said it would be an amazing PR opportunity for me. I think I told her no five times but on that sixth time, I agreed because GP said he thought I’d like you and then he sent me that interview. And then I walked into that studio on that cold, rainy April and have never thanked GP and Melissa so fast. That first time I saw you, I felt my entire world shift beneath my feet. Having the childhood I did ruined the idea of love for me for most of my life but the moment you waltzed into my life, schatje, I knew that you were going to show me how wrong I’d been. I love you endlessly and will forever be thankful that you’ve shown me what the meaning of real, true, unconditional love is.” Max takes a breath, swiping at an errant tear that falls down his cheek.
Across from him, you grip at his hands, desperately trying to commit this entire moment to memory. You’re endlessly glad you both had written your vows so you’d be able to look back and remember what was said today on this beach.
“I promise to love, honor, cherish, and spoil you,” He pauses when you chuckle and roll your eyes, but just squeezes your hand before continuing on. “Whatever you need, you’ll have. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you never want for anything ever again, both material wants but also emotional wants. You are my number one priority from here on out and I vow to never ever stop living up to these promises. I never believed in soulmates until I saw you for the first time and words can’t accurately describe how much I love you. Having the title of your husband is worth a million and one world champion titles and I promise to spend the rest of my days proving that to you.”
The emotions ripple over you as Max concludes his vows. The officiant turns to you, dipping his head to let you know it’s now your turn. Max squeezes your hands together and you drown in the watercolor blue eyes looking back at you for a moment.
“I stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago. That is until you walked into that recording studio and looked at me like you’d known me for our entire lives. I tried so hard not to get ahead of myself for so long, but it was that first time you flew me down to Miami two weeks after meeting you that I knew. I knew that you were it for me, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. We’ve been through so much in such a short time and I know there are so many people that are going to think we’re criminally insane for doing this. But it’s nearly impossible to put into words what you’ve done to my soul in such a short time, Max. I know it’s beyond cliche but you’ve altered who I am at my very core. I’ve never been with someone so unwaveringly supportive of everything that I am and everything that I do.” You draw in a shaky breath then, needing a moment before you can make the rest of your words materialize.
“I promise to love you so unconditionally and strongly for the rest of my life. I promise to be by your side during the highs and lows of your career, on and off the track. The life we live is so fast and so difficult sometimes but just knowing that you’re on the other side of that plane ride, waiting for me to come home to you, makes everything we do worth it. I promise to give you whatever you need no matter how difficult it may be. You are my life now and I will spend the rest of my life showing up for you. Soulmates are real and you’re mine. I’m so thankful that I found you, Max. I love you.”
A quiet settles between you and Max then, the vows cementing the bond you’ve been building since that first day in the recording studio. The officiant and photographer seem to sense it too, their soft smiles playing on their lips as they give the vows that were just exchanged a chance to sink in for each of you.
Rings are exchanged and before you’re able to get a handle on things, the officiant declares you and Max husband and wife. The feeling of sheer relief and excitement washes over both you and Max as you’re told to seal the vows with a kiss. And what a kiss it is. Max pours his entire soul into the first kiss he shares with you as your husband. Everything he said in his vows being repeated by the way his lips cover yours, working over your mouth in such a way that has your knees buckling.
“I love you so much, wife.” Max murmurs against your lips just before breaking the first of many kisses between husband and wife.
maxverstappen1 posted
1,309,292 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, assistant shannon, and others maxverstappen1 she's stuck with me forever now danielricciardo EXCUSE ME BUT WHAT THE FUCK user028 did they ELOPE??? Without telling ANYONE??? OH MY GOD??? HELLO??? user448 somehow, this feels very on brand for the both of them >>>user432 i was just thinking the same thing. charlesleclerc I'm sorry, WHAT??? yourpersonalinsta love you, husband >>>user0299 oh my god, i cannot be normal about this landonorris kinda heartbroken I didn't get to be the flower boy, ngl >>>user998 this is such a lando comment oscarpiastri wow! didn't even know you were engaged! congrats. man! >>>user332 why is this the most Oscar Piastri comment I've ever read??? >>>user948 HAHA OSCAR
yourpersonalinsta posted
1,029,398 likes liked by yourdad, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta wife>>>fiance user0298 the HAND PLACEMENT in that last photo. Max, my maaaan. user918 they eloped and didn't tell a single soul. i fucking love this so hard. kikagomes OH. MY. GOD. Congratulations gorgeous girl!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta love you pretty girl! user8892 my man wins his 5th world championship and then gets married in secret, max is winning at life rn assistantshannon so happy for you boss lady. you and max deserve the world. love you!!! >>>yourpersonalinsa so thankful i had your help with this, sweet girl. user827 are we just going to ignore the TATTOO on Max's wrist??? HER??? >>>user0291 oh my god oh my god
tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland
#f1#formula 1#max verstappen#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff
277 notes
·
View notes