#and you know how she served them? cut in half
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British people: these avocados must go they're past their prime please won't someone eat them
The avocados:
#British stores label avocados as ripe or not because people don't know how to tell by picking one up with their hands#these labels are almost always incorrect btw#we stayed with my in-laws for passover one year and I brought a bunch of avocados that were varying degrees of ripe so I could#have avocado on matzah for breakfast each day#and my mother in law just looked at the stickers saying they were ripe and freaked out that they were going to go bad and had to be eaten#and just served them to everyone for lunch on like day 2#without asking me!#I was so mad#half of them were decidely not ripe yet#for context: I have digestive issues and brought a lot of my own food to accommodate for it so she didn't have to#and you know how she served them? cut in half#on a plate#with a spoon#no salt no dressing no anything just eat half an avocado with a spoon#we went out and bought a bunch more the next day and I showed her how to tell which ones are ripe but I'm a salty bitch and I'm still mad#it's been like 3 years#also if one more Brit tells me they've made guacamole only to serve me a bowl of mashed avocado that saw a grain of salt once from a train#I will lose it
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does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭
“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can.
“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before.
“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.
“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place.
“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.
“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”
“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.”
with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head.
“satoru, please don’t freak out—”
he freaks out.
he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”
you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”
“what grade curse was it?”
“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”
“you’re only grade one. why would they—”
“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”
“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently.
“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.”
“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”
“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”
“well when you come home hurt, yeah!”
he regrets it as soon as he says it.
and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“hey…”
he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.
_____
freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.
“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.”
“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket.
he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”
“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him.
“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.”
(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)
“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”
wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat.
“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.”
“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”
“ah. about that….”
_____
“alright, dinner’s served!”
you the kids exchange a look.
megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”
“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”
“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.
tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.
“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”
“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk angst#keeping up with the fushigojos#keeping up with the fushigojos: extended cut!
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PLAY FAKE | Rafe Cameron | 01
MASTERLIST (Series)
Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ
Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs.
Who knew Rafe Cameron is a blabbering drunk?
Working as a bartender on the docks, near Heyward's Seafood, you have your fair share of stories about the people who come in. Most of them are locals from The Cut, with the occasional tourists who wander the streets, settling for a clean place to eat.
But it's very rare to have a Kook.
It's been a visit for the past couple of weeks. You don't understand what caused him to come here. There's plenty of bars near Figure Eight—some of which you are sure caters specifically to the Camerons—but you don't question it. Lately, business has been slow, a couple of locals in and out, and with the majority of your income relying on tips, you take it.
Locals don't tip.
Rafe does, however. When he settled down and ordered the largest and most expensive liquor you had on hand, he slipped a fifty into your hands and asked for the bottle as a whole. You don't know if he doesn't have prior tipping etiquette—or because he tips extra for you to keep quiet about his presence—but you gladly take it. Sitting at the end of the counter, his hand cradles a half-empty glass he sips from.
Despite having the whole bottle set in front of him, he still makes you serve him.
Why?
Because he's an asshole.
"You know what he wants to do?" Rafe slurs from across the counter, his eyes flickering to find your presence behind the bar. "He wants to give the company to Sarah."
You hum in response, drying the washed glasses in your hands with a towel as you listen to his nondescript rambles. You knew most of the people he's referring to Sarah Cameron, Ward, and the occasional Pogue you don't know the name of. But, that's how Rafe sees the world: his family, the Kooks, and then everyone else.
"She's nineteen and going around OBX with her fucking Pogue boyfriend and he sees her as stable?" Rafe scoffs, shaking his head as he brings the edge of the glass to his lips and takes a long sip. "Fucking bitch."
Listening to drunk customers vent about their home lives is part of the job description. While it’s dark outside and Rafe is the only customer left, you are technically free to kick him out and make him go about his day elsewhere.
But, there's a rule in your family regarding business: don't go home until the last customer leaves. There's no such thing as kicking someone out at closing time; you were there to wait, serve, and hope they spend a couple more bucks on some more booze. It's a cheapshot of handling enterprise, but that's the way you need to do business and survive as a Pogue.
Rafe taps his empty cup in his hand, eyes pinned on you. "Refill," he mumbles, to which you resist the urge to roll your eyes, and walk over to do exactly as he asks. Lifting the bottle set in front of him to pour him another shot, he watches you as you watch.
"You think it's stupid, right?" He asks, his gaze lifting to study your face. "He thinks Sarah is more equipped to handle Cameron Development because of that Pogue. Because he ties her down. Is that some bullshit?"
His gaze is intense and you don't know whether to answer or not. While you don't know much of the story, of the background behind his persistent rambles, you pieced together enough that it's about Ward deciding to give Sarah the family company because of her stability as a person. Because she's reliable.
You shrug, "I don't know." Because you don't. You don't want to get involved in whatever problems Rafe is dealing with. You don't want to offer unsolicited opinions because who knows if it'll come back to bite you in the ass.
He scoffs, then releases a bitter laugh. "Of course you don't," he leans back against his seat, almost swaying against the backless stool, before shaking his head, disciplining himself. "You're a Pogue. I must be losing it if I'm talking to you."
You roll your eyes, turning away from the Kook and settling on the rest of your tasks. You're used to Kooks putting you down like that, seeing you as nothing more than the bottom of the chain because you don't have some fancy degree from UNC or because you aren't floating on a yacht somewhere.
Just as you're returning bottles back on the shelf, you hear Rafe mumbles to himself. "Does he want me to be tied down or something?"
You let out an abrupt laugh, before quickly stiffening the sound. However, it was too late. When you look back over, you see his blue eyes set on you, a hard expression on his face. "Sorry," you mumble, wishing you had better control over your tongue. "I thought I heard something funny."
You wished you could blame it on the TV, but unfortunately, you had turned that off a while ago.
"You laughing at me, sweetheart?"
"No," you clear your throat, but the look on Rafe's face makes it seem like he's in no mood to hear lies right now. You rectify the answer. "Yes."
"What's so funny?"
"The idea of you getting tied down," you answer slowly. You carefully study his expression to see if anything you say could trigger a bad reaction. "It just seems amusing to me."
Because it is. Rafe is known around Outer Banks as the reckless prince, the one who hosts parties, gets shit-faced drunk, and hooks up with every woman within his proximity. The idea of him losing all of that—the parties, the drinking, the women—was not something you could picture in your head.
"What about it?" He challenges, an edge to his tone. "You think I can't fucking do it?"
From your experience as a bartender, you know he's coming close to unraveling. What you say next could cause him to erupt or calm down, and while you would love to sell him some lies, to get him to back down and leave, something in you doesn't let it pass. All night, he's been nothing short of an asshole to you. To act like he's above you because you are nothing but a Pogue meant to serve him. Why would you pass up an opportunity to deliver some harsh reality?
"Look at yourself," you gesture to him, "you're here, drinking at my bar after an argument with your father. He's trying to tell you that you aren't dependable enough to rely on and the first thing you do is turn to your vices. What do you think?"
Even if you intended it to be harsh, you said it nicely.
He stares at you, hard. You don't like it. You heard the rumors of what happens when he gets pissed—where he throws chairs and smashed bottles. You don't want to be a recipient of that.
"Never mind," you shake your head, returning back to your task. "Just forget it. I'm misreading the situation."
"No," he says with a shake of his head. "You said it. Might as well own it with your chest. Dancing around it wouldn't make you anymore likable."
You clench your jaw. On top of being a blabbering drunk, Rafe is cruel.
Not answering him, you walk over to where he sits and take the glass from his hand, right as he's about to take another sip.
"What the fuck?"
"I think it's time for you to leave."
He scoffs, not moving from his position. "Just because I said I didn't like you?"
"No, because you're acting like an asshole and frankly, I don't want to put up with it anymore," you say, pouring the rest of the content down the sink. "You can take the bottle with you. But other than that, you need to leave."
Rafe stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating what to do, but he doesn't have any grounds here. He may be a Kook, but that means shit when he's in the south side of Outer Banks. When his opponent is a bartender. Instead of responding to you, he slides off the stool and grabs the booze by the handle.
Just as he's about to set out of the door, you shout behind him with a mock farewell, "'pleasure doing business with you!"
—
That day, you thought would be the last of your interactions with Rafe. After all, most people don't want to continue doing business with someone who calls them out on their bullshit and kicks them out of their shops.
But, a couple of days later, Rafe comes through the door of your family-owned pub.
You paid little attention to him. You were trying to log the tips into the cash register, not catering to some entitled prick who has no means being here. Plus, there's another bartender on hand who's more than willing to help Rafe with anything he needs.
You didn't care.
Your coworker can get his tips.
As you're filing in the last of the receipts, Miranda comes over to tap you on the shoulders.
"Rafe wants to talk to you."
You stare at her for a few seconds, as if she was speaking another language. You thought she did. Why in the world would he want to talk to you? You were unpleasant to him. You were nothing of the customer service attitude your parents drilled into you as a child. You thought it was clear grounds for him to look the other direction.
"I'm busy," you say to Miranda, who shifts uncomfortably in her stance, not leaving.
"He said he's willing to wait."
That means he was expecting you to say no.
You scoff. "Tell him I'm not going to be free until closing time."
"But..." Miranda starts again, and you are starting to lose your patience with her. "We don't have a closing time."
You smile at that. "Exactly."
Despite the harsh undertone, Miranda still relays the message back to Rafe. You watch as she does, his eyes briefly pans over to you as you offer him a forced smile with a wave of your fingers and his jaw visibly tense. You thought that would be the end of the conversation but, to be proven wrong again, he slides into the bar stool he previously occupied the other night and orders a drink.
Then another.
You did your best to avoid the area he occupied, but it was proven to be difficult as he spent his time right in front of you. You got busy, running around and assisting locals and tourists who came in to get a taste of the infamous and historical Sailor of Outer Banks. While you're running around, placing orders, making drinks, and trying to navigate the cramped space behind the bar—Rafe remains.
He remained until he was the very last customer.
You sigh as you glance at the clock. Miranda has since left and you're left carrying the shop ever since. All you want to do is go home and relax, but that will be proven impossible until Rafe leaves the establishment.
With a strong reluctance, you step forward to where Rafe sat, his eyes on the TV screen hung on the wall, while his hands occupied another glass.
"Fine," you sigh, causing Rafe to tear away from the screen. The corner of his lips lift into a self-satisfying smirk. "I'm here."
"You finally ready to talk to me?"
"You ready to stop being such a prick?" You quip back, just to see his expression broadens at your snark. You can't lie and say the movement didn't make him more attractive. "What do you want?"
For a moment, you thought he might be here to apologize for asking like an ass the other night.
But, you were too hopeful.
"I came up with a solution," he begins, his words a subtle slur that contrasts the intoxication of the other night.
"For what?" You entertain the conversation, crossing your arms over your chest.
"My dad." He answers. "He wants me to be stable."
"I remember."
"And from when he was talking about Sarah, one of the reasons he thinks he can rely on her is because she's with that Pogue." He explains, "that it somehow makes her dependable. I don't fucking know, the logic is flawed."
"And old-fashioned, but continue."
His blue eyes dart to your face, before he utters the next words. "That means I need a girlfriend."
You nod, glad to see that he came to his conclusion. You thought this was another one of his ramblings, a need to vent to someone he doesn't think matters in the long-run, just to get it off his chest. Now that it is, you're about to step back and turn around to start your night tasks before he holds out a hand.
"Wait," he commands, causing you to stop on your tracks. You raise a brow at him. "I want you to be my girlfriend."
You laugh. It truly is a bad habit of yours but the idea came out as total lunacy and shock. You thought he would join. But, when you look back to his face and have the striking realization that he is serious, you start to sober up. "You're serious."
"Yeah," he says, clenching his jaw, like the moment of wonderful ideas was truly something he was proud of and you struck it down like lightning.
"I'm sorry but," you shake your head, not having the ability to wrap your head around the suggestion. "You barely know me. Isn't there a line of other people who would love to become the next Mrs. Cameron?"
You know that's true. You also know if he had told Miranda this, she would've jumped to the idea before he concluded his brilliant plan. So, you can't, for the life of you, figure out why he's choosing you out of everyone else.
"Yes, but I don't want them." He answers with a shake of his head, leaning closer to the counter. You don't know why but something about that makes your chest warm. "I don't want a real girlfriend. I just need you to pretend to be."
Just like that, the feeling in your stomach dies.
"Pretend?" You repeat.
"Yes," he nods. "It's just like you said. I still have my vices. I don't want to give them up. I just want my dad to think I did."
"I still don't understand how this has anything to do with me," you furrow your brows together.
He sighs, out of frustration or impatience, you don't know. But, he goes to explain, "my dad once told me that John B was a reliable person. That he was a Pogue who was hard-working and determined. That's why he likes him for Sarah—because he hopes it would rub off on her too."
You nod slowly, connecting the dots as he continues. "You're a Pogue," he says with a huff, the title left his tongue with an ounce of disgust you were ready to throw him out of the bar again. "He likes to go on his good samaritan bullshit and employs people from The Cut for certain events. You were one of them."
It takes a second to remember what he was talking about. He's right. A couple of years ago, when you were eighteen, you got a catering job from the Camerons for some big business event. It was the most you made in your lifetime, from all the tips and drunk Kooks who wanted to give back to the poor.
But, he never employed you again.
"Do you see where I'm going now?"
You do, but you hate the attitude he's giving you. Like you were a Pogue who couldn't string together simple facts. Like you should've known what he's talking about.
"I do, but why the fuck you acting like I would've known the whole thing with John B?" You snap, and this surprises him for a moment. Taking a breath to cool the anger in your chest, you calm. "This doesn't explain why it has to be me."
His next statement comes off more nice. "My dad wants someone like that. I doubt he would approve of anyone else, and plus, I don't have to worry about you wanting something more. You clearly despise me."
That isn't true, but you do understand where he's coming from.
"So, let me get this straight." You start. "I'm basically an arm candy for you to parade around in front of your father while the rest of the time, you are free to drink and fuck whoever you want."
"I'm glad that Pogue brain of yours is catching up."
You glare at him, but say nothing else. Picking up the dirty rag off the counter, where you were planning on using to clean, you turn back to Rafe, "as much as I would love to play house with you, I don't have time. Unlike you, I have bills to pay and a job to do."
You turn your back to him but he stops you.
"I'll pay you."
You scoff. "It's not that," you say, because truly, it isn't. A few short-term payments for a couple of missed shifts isn't going to help you in the long-run. You're trying to revive Sailor, to make it a place where it can stand on its own. What is a couple of bucks going to do for that? "I'm sorry, but I don't have the time for it. You're going to have to find someone else."
"I don't want someone else."
He looks at you desperate, as if you would give in, and for a moment, you might. Perhaps it's because you're so used to helping others, or because you were raised to cater to people—to people like him—that your stomach cower at the thought of saying no. But, you have to stand firm on this. You don't have time to go out and party, much less spend your free-time parading around in his arms as some sort of trophy.
You were serious.
"I'm sorry, I truly am."
Your voice is filled with sympathy, and it softens him for a moment. But, that quickly passes as Rafe Cameron has to recoil with the idea that he didn't get what he wanted. Probably for the first time in his life.
With an annoyed huff, he slams the cash for the drinks he's been nursing and leaves.
You thought it would be the end of it.
Not knowing, by the end of this week, you will be known as Rafe's girlfriend.
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Navigation — Part 02
#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe smut#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#obx smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks
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shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri
Dia's Diner Menu
shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare
Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader
TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping
WC: 2k
A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.
Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.
Why was this the worst night of my life?
We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off.
“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”
I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”
She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”
Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”
Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”
The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”
“It’s fine just put me in a -”
“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”
Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.
Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.
We have hated each other ever since.
“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.
“What!?”
Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”
✿ ✿ ✿
“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.
“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.
“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.
Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”
“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”
“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.
“Shame it’s not fatal.”
✿ ✿ ✿
This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.
With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.
One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.
I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.
I came to a realization about three things, so goes:
Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.
He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.
He was grinding his very much hard cock into me - in his sleep.
My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.
I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.
I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.
The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.
A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.
He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”
The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”
“Wasn’t,” I whispered.
“What was that?” He growled into my ear.
“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.
His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.
“Fuck you.”
“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”
Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.
I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.
I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”
In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare.
Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”
“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.
“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”
I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”
His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.
Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”
“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”
I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.
He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.
“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.
He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.
“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.
I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”
“That was one time!”
I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”
Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.
#f1 fic#dia's diner#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#op81 x reader#op81#op81 imagine#op81 fic#formula one#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula one smut#formula 1#op81 smut#op81 x you#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x y/n
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don’t try this at home | Drew Starkey x black!reader
summary: no one never tells you how much a broken heart hurts. how you feel like you could die from how much pain it causes you and dealing with it mostly alone serves as a constant reminder of what life could've been.
a/n: Here’s part 2 of nothing to say when heaven falls, heavily inspired by ‘in the kitchen’ by Renee Rapp. I want to thank you all sooooo much for the love on the first part I’m still taking it all in💖
dividers: @/saradika-graphics
It had been seven months since the both of you broke up - more like you decided to call it all off and he just watched.
A part of you felt broken beyond repair. It felt like everywhere you looked you could see his stupid blue eyes and damned smile. As if your brain couldn't cope with his absence anymore and began to force you to picture him everywhere you went. Wether it was in someone holding the door for you, a stranger complimenting your hair, a song on the radio that you knew he’d sing along as he drove. It felt like you were dancing with his ghost. Like life happened around you but you were stuck in the kitchen where you last saw him. It was just you and the bittersweet memories.
You never knew how his family took the news of your break up, Brooke was the one who reached out to you and said that she was sorry things had happened that way. But after that everything was radio silent and you preferred it that way. It hurt less when the living reminders of him weren’t too keen on keeping up with your life anymore. They had no reason to do that anyway.
But nothing hurt more than when you began to call everything off with the contractors. The venue, the buffet, the band that would be playing, the decoration crew, photographers and wedding planners. That broke you because you could feel their pity through each and every single call. Like every time you dialed a number, the knife was piercing the open wound again.
It didn’t take long for you to move back into the apartment you rented before you had moved in with him. Slowly life was stable again. Wake up, walk in the park, work, diner, sleep. Repeat.
You also deleted most of your social media profiles and created brand new ones. You didn't want to think of how long until people realized that you were cutting online ties to any one connected to him and they started asking questions. You wanted to remain invisible at last.
Still that wasn't enough. Every other day when your best friend, Frankie, posted a picture or a video where you were in she would immediately tell you that he had liked it. Every time for the last month and a half. You didn't know if you liked to be informed of that or not, if you were honest.
Sometimes you hated yourself for leaving like you did, but in most days you asked yourself how you managed to stay that long? Of course you loved him and was one hundred percent ready to be with him in the long run, but the sudden dismiss of your relationship as soon as Odessa was in the picture was a real deal breaker. Even if you had tried to ignore and move past it, both of them seem to keep on pushing your buttons more and more.
Moving back to this apartment was a blessing and a curse. You were glad that the lender was a nice lady and accepted your application again. You loved the neighborhood and the neighbors, so you were relieved that this part you were able to recover.
Unlike the place you shared with Drew, this one barely had memories of him. So it was easy to ignore his absence in your home. The thought of your shared apartment brought a strange kind of pain to your heart. So many plans, memories and dreams that you for your future now sat alone. All of them waiting for a different kind of closure - one you weren’t sure they’d ever get.
There were pieces of furniture that used to decorate that address that you had brought with you. And on them you could feel him linger, like he was a ghost lurking by the corners waiting for you to acknowledge him again. You never did.
Weeks came and went as the breeze that passed by. None of them too significant. One failed date here and there, bar trips with Frankie, catching up with family members. Routine wasn’t hard to follow when you didn’t have anything else to focus on, it gave you a sense of normalcy. That’s how you found yourself sighing at your friends words on the speaker phone.
“Come on, it will be fun!” She points out, “And you might even find someone you’ll like.”
Frankie had been trying to convince you on the past few days to go to this party in a private club that she was invited and could take a plus one. You did enjoy going to some bars but clubs were never your scene, but you knew that with her insistence you’d end up caving in soon or late.
“Frankie, you know that I don’t enjoy this kind of things too much,” you argue as you serve yourself some pasta. “Besides, I have that presentation at work that I need to focus on.”
“That’s not coming up for another two weeks, I’m sure you can take one day to live. You’re young and gorgeous, you shouldn’t be locked up on a Friday night.”
You giggle at that. Ever since you told her what had happened with your previous relationship, she made it her mission to get you to meet as many guys as possible. Half of the times you managed to back out and the ones you did you’d find yourself under someone you were sure that you’d only see once.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You ask with a small sigh as you shake your head.
“Be ready by nine, hun.” She says, and you can clearly hear the excitement in her voice, and then she hangs up.
This was everything you didn’t know you needed. The sweaty bodies dancing on the main floor, loud chatter all around and the strong smell of alcohol surrounded you.
Everyone seemed pretty in sync with each other here and, as Frankie held your hand, the both of you headed to the bar. When you arrived, you realized that the both of you had a very different perception of what small was. This place had at least one hundred and twenty people in, all with different styles and ages.
Frankie was taller than you, with legs and a waist to die for. She drew attention anywhere she passed by with her long blonde hair, at work people called her a bombshell, since she did look like a modern version of Gisele Bündchen. You became friends not long after you moved to Connecticut. As it was closer to New York and your then fiancé, had many meetings and events in the city. Both of you working in a corporate position at one of the many offices that were spread downtown. As the two of you were closer in age, it didn’t take much for a friendship to blossom between you both.
“I’ll have two caipirinhas,” she said to the bartender with the cutest little accent.
At the name of the specific drink from your native country, you looked around and realized that the party was somewhat tropical themed, so having a drink that was heavy on lime and sugar made sense.
You were glad that your outfit wasn’t standing out too much. The skirt barely covered your behind, but somehow the soft fabric made you feel comfortable as it wasn’t clinging to your skin as a the leather option you tried earlier would. Summer was insanely hot this year and the less the better.
Once your drinks arrived, she handed you one and the both of you walked towards one of the empty seats a little far away from the bar.
Conversation between the two of you flew lightly and it was always good to talk with Frankie. She understood you in ways no one ever had, there was never judgment coming from her. Even when you broke down in front of her when your relationship ended. She was your family away from home.
She also felt confident in sharing with you her fears and struggles as a single mother. Her boyfriend had passed away a year and a half ago in an accident and left her with a little boy to raise. Hayden her pride and joy and you knew how hard she worked to provide him with the best there was. You were more than glad to help her whenever she needed, you loved the both of them endlessly.
As the hours passed by the party became more packed than it was when you arrived, now you could barely walk between the damp bodies. So that made your trip to the bar for new drinks twice as long.
The bartender acted on automatic as he took your order once more, and for a moment you felt bad for coming here again. So many voices and sounds around you that you questioned yourself how he was able to understand each order correctly.
You tapped your colored nails against the glass countered as you waited, trying not to focus too much on what was happening around you. And that was how you felt it before you’ve seen it.
The strong smell of a very specific cologne. You didn’t dare to turn your head as the smell flooded your senses, hopefully it would be just a coincidence, right? I mean, what are the chances?
But it seemed like you have zero support from the universe tonight because the voice ordering a Sazerac besides you was very familiar. Familiar as you had heard it groaning in your ear as your legs were wrapped around someone’s waist.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Was it too late for you to make an escape? Thankfully, the spot you and Frankie were sharing was to your left so you looked back in that directly only to see her wide eyes staring right back at you.
Fuck.
Where the hell was this bartender?
You looked ahead again and allowed your eyes to briefly look down to your right. That goddamned gold signet ring.
Fuck.
Suddenly you didn’t want to drink anymore. Not when you felt a very familiar gaze burning into you.
No escape.
💖taglist💖: @emmaafinchh @rafecamerons-national-anthem @blveeeeeee @a-j-stuffs @maybankslover @lovelylove268 @cooper8224 @esquivelbianca @dreamybabbyy @lulubabii @idiotussupremus @drewsphswife @ietss
tumblrs a hoe and it wasn’t letting me tag some of y’all 🫠
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x black reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron#obx#obx fanfiction#rafe x reader
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Maybe KBD Steve being smitten even when he takes the family out to dinner and it’s hectic in the best way possible!
KBD —Steve gets overwhelmed with love at dinner. mom!reader
“I wanna sit with mom.”
Steve ignores Dove’s whine until she says it again. “I wanna sit with mom!”
He finds it all too easy to shuffle her back toward his chest, eyes over her shoulder. He’s a little more interested in his fries right now, but he isn’t heartless. “Babe, you’re not sitting with mom. Do you want me to cut up your chicken?”
“Please?” she asks.
You’re sitting across the table with Beth. It’s easier when you’re eating out for you to sit with Beth, because, while he tries just as hard, you’re better at getting her to eat her fill. And! Despite what Dove wants, she will not be sitting with you because she wishes she was sitting on you, and your belly is not to be sat on right now. Baby Wren is four months old, and sometimes, somehow, you’re still tender. The human body mystifies.
“No.” He smiles at her. “But you can sit on my lap forever.”
She frowns. Looks like she might show off, but ultimately enjoys being smiled at too much. “Will you cut it?”
Steve grabs her knife and fork and starts to shear the meat off of her half-chicken. Beside him, Avery digs into a serving of mac and cheese with vigour, her spoon scratching the bottom of the bowl. The restaurant is quiet considering the time and day; it’s prime time 6PM on a Saturday, and you’d both expected this family establishment to be full to bursting, but besides two tables by the door and a couple of older women at the bar, it’s quiet. It’s quite nice.
The girls are less so.
“Oh, gosh, cheese,” Avery says.
“It’s too wet,” Beth says.
“Do the ‘sparagus too, daddy,” Dove says.
Wren, thankfully, snores in her stroller, the slightest tinge against her collar of waylaid milk.
“Yum! Beth, do you want some?”
“I don’t want any.”
“Bethie, you know, this is just how daddy usually makes them,” you say, stealing one of her French fries, licking salt grains from your fingers. “Except daddy wouldn’t let you have all that salt.”
“It’s nice,” Beth defends.
“Exactly. Better eat it before your daddy notices,” you say, all soft and smiley as you lean down and poke her in the side.
She shies away, but not without a smile of her own. “Mom!” she whispers.
“What?” Steve asks.
“Nothing, nothing,” you say. You reach around Beth as Steve had done to Dove and begin to cut the last of her burger into sections. Steve would argue a burger from here is better than anything he could make, but he likes the compliment.
His own burger grows cold in front of him. Your meal does the same.
He licks his thumb. “Baby,” he says, tapping your ankle with his shoe, “you need to eat.”
“I’m trying.”
“Beth’s a big girl, huh?” he says, giving Beth an encouraging wink. “She doesn’t need you hovering, she wants you to eat your food.”
“Thanks, mommy,” Beth says.
“I don’t care what daddy says,” you say, tapping your nose, “I can help you if you need it. Big girl or not.”
He rolls his eyes playfully and goes back to his own food. Dove eats strands of chicken with her fingers, seemingly pleased, and he pretends she isn’t taking fries off his plate as he relishes in huge bites of big cheeseburger. It’s amazing. Melted cheese, a super fresh slice of tomato, lettuce crisp and not soggy. Steve loves when somebody else makes dinner.
You finish your food fast, and then you're straight back to Beth. Steve realises quickly that it’s not even that she’s struggling today, you’re just being affectionate. He should’ve realised that before.
(Maybe too doting considering Beth has been able to feed herself for more than four years, but Steve can’t blame you.)
“I’m glad they didn’t give you a tomato,” you’re saying, fingertips drawing circles into her arms, clearly distracting her from the task at hand. “Remember last time? They gave you tomatoes and mustard even though we told them you don’t like them.”
“I do like tomatoes,” she says.
“No, I know, just not on burgers.” You wrap your arm around her and turn your gaze on Avery. “What’s your mac and cheese like, Ave?”
“So good! You want some?”
“No, thanks. It looks cheesy.”
Avery stabs her spoon into her food and pulls it up slowly to showcase the cheese pull. She’s gone a little pink in the face, which isn’t like her, but it’s hot in the restaurant and her food is still steaming. Like you’ve had the same thought, you lift a laminated menu and begin batting fresh air at her. “Babe, you’re red! Are you okay?”
Jesus, he loves you. Steve really loves you. You’re just adorable, and a great mom, and he loves you. He’s gonna do it. It’s gonna piss you off, but he has to.
“Okay, alright,” he says, shuffling out of his seat, lifting Dove to place her next to Avery. “This has been a long time coming. I think nobody expected me to wait this long, but.” He neatens his eyebrows with two fingertips and slicks back his hair. “Honey, I love you.”
“Steve…” you warn.
“I love you, and I want to be with you, ‘cos you’re beautiful and sweet and weirdly good with kids?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “I don’t know. You’re amazing.”
He slips his hand behind his back, shrugs off his wedding ring, and gets down on one knee.
Avery claps and laughs immediately. Dove tips her head to the side trying to make him out.
“Baby, I can’t imagine my life without you, and I can’t go one more day without being your husband. Would you please, please, do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
You laugh loud and sudden, then clear your throat. “What do you think, girls?” you ask, leaning back for conference.
“Say yes!” Avery says.
“But he really annoyed me earlier tickling my leg,” you say.
“True.” Avery looks to Beth. “He can learn to be better, right?”
“I thought you were married already?” Beth asks.
Avery giggles. You squash a smile against Beth’s hairline as you give her a little kiss. “We are,” you whisper, “he’s just pretending.”
“This is not pretend!” Steve’s knee hurts, but he perseveres for love. “Please, honey. I love you more than anyone.”
Dove gasps in hurt.
“Except for my Dove, my Beth, my Avery, and my Wren,” he adds. “Jesus, we have a lot of kids. That was a mouthache.”
You meet his eyes and smile like you don’t want to smile. You hold out your hand, unperturbed when he gasps in over exaggerated delight and slips the ring on your already ringed finger.
“Congratulations!” Avery shouts.
She’s hilarious. “She gets that from me,” he says.
You usher him off of the floor for a kiss, not dissimilar from the one you gave when he’d actually proposed —your hands on his cheeks, holding him to you as though he might run away before you’re done. Your smile a palpable thing as he leans in.
#kisses before dinner universe#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#dad!steve harrington#dad!steve harrington x reader#dad!steve harrington x mom!reader#steve harrington x afab!reader#afab!reader#mom!reader#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fandom#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fluff
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TAKE A BITE
- your best friends challenge you to bring the hottest guy at the bar home, and you can’t manage to say no. (jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader, random original female characters for plot purposes, ⚠️ alcohol, 18+!! adult content, p in v, jake being a sweetheart for once, I’M BEGGING PLEASE BE 18)
word count: 3,033
a/n - dipping my toe into the adult writing scene for once 😚 i have no idea if this is good or not bc my only experience is one commission i did a long time ago and a half-finished fic from a year ago, so i hope it’s satisfactory. jake is also an unexpected visitor but everyone has their moments <3
“So…” Kaiya drawls, drawing along the rim of her condensation-covered glass, “because no one here seems to want to put themselves out there,” there’s a pointed glance at you, “I propose a challenge.”
Sandy squints at her suspiciously. Kaiya always comes up with the most outrageous schemes, usually drawing in you and the rest of your friend group. “What are you thinking?” She asks.
Kaiya’s manicured nail taps on the table. “We each pick a guy, one that individual thinks is the hottest at the bar— first come first serve, of course. And then we take them home. Anyone that’s successful gets next week’s drinks paid for by the rest of us.”
You roll your eyes. She’s a looker, for sure, which is likely the only reason she proposed something like this. She could get with any guy in a hundred mile radius with her luscious black curls and babydoll cheeks. “Are you sure you aren’t just doing this because you don’t want to pay for yourself?”
Kaiya puts one hand to her mouth, eyes widened in comical horror. “I would never! I just want what’s best for my dear friends.” She exclaims, batting her eyes. Sandy laughs in her own charming way. Sandy is cute, sweet. She’d also have no problem taking her pick.
“I want that one.” Kaiya says, pointing at a tall man with shortly cropped curls. From the looks of it, he’s exactly her type; confident, quick-witted, and evidently skilled as he nails a dart throw.
Sandy pretends to squint around the bar before throwing a thumb over her freckled shoulder. “Buzz cut. I like that in a man.” You peer around her, taking in a nice-looking guy with tanned skin.
“And you?” Kaiya asks, reaching out to thumb at the strap of your top. Her small look of concern makes you remember why you’re her friend in the first place.
She’s always looking out for you, always finding opportunities for you to shine when she is so obviously the star. After you broke up with your boyfriend for some unsavory reasons, she resumed her role as your rock. Even now, she wants you to get over what’s in the past. You curse yourself for even considering that she was being selfish.
You look around the crowded bar, eyes scanning over heaps of mildly attractive Navy and civilian men. You’re about to just pick the closest one before your gaze stops on a person who almost immediately takes your breath away. He’s exactly, exactly what you pictured your dream guy to look like.
Kaiya follows your line of sight and smiles. “Let’s get them, tigers.”
“Alright,” You say, standing as your chair creaks from under you, “I’ll take a bite.”
You lean against the cool counter of the bar, smiling at the bartender. The man you picked out has a beer in his hand and a certain swagger in how he scopes out the room. “Could I have one of those, please?” You ask the woman behind the bar, looking pointedly at the guy. She looks at you with a knowing smile, handing you the drink.
“You have good taste.” Your pick says, his voice heavy with a drawl. His green eyes glance down at the drink in your hand, then up to your face. You swear you almost see him lick his lips.
“So do you.” You respond simply. “What’s your name?”
“Jake, but if one of those idiots asks, it’s Hangman.” He nods over to a group of men by the pool table. In a passing flash, you notice the two your friends picked out mingling. How could this one squad have so many attractive people? “I saw you with your friends a bit ago. I have to say, though, you’re more my type. Not that they aren’t nice girls.”
You take a sip of your drink, eyebrows quirked. His arms are basically bulging out of his Navy attire, and you struggle to keep your eyes off of them. Decidedly, you try teasing him, pushing the boundaries of flirting. “You’re my type too. More than the one with the mustache, but he’s not so bad.”
His smile crinkles his eyes, and you think you might swoon. This is good, you tell yourself. It feels good. It’s a bit awkward, with just the slightest bit of tension, but you’re warming up; you just got out of a relationship for god’s sake.
“Trust me, sugar, however good you think he is, I’m better.” He punctuates his sentence with a wink.
You’re drop dead gorgeous, he thinks. Jake meets gorgeous women every day, but not one has made his heart beat just as fast. When you smile up at him through your lashes, he’s done for. Locked, loaded, and done for.
“You’re that confident, hm?” You muse, setting your beer down on the counter. It took a great deal of complacency to not throw yourself at him and wrap yourself in his large hands. He swipes a bead of water off of your bottle, and you think all sorts of things. His fingers dripping, his face hot and sweaty, his hair messed up… you almost melt at the idea. “I think you’re going to have to prove it.”
He holds an arm out to you, and you graciously accept. “I’ll prove it in a million ways, pretty girl. Dance with me and see for yourself.”
Jake leads you to a small area by the jukebox. His palms skim over your waist, pulling you closer but still leaving you aching for more. A song starts playing, one you don’t recognize, but he seems to know exactly how to move to it.
If you’re being totally honest, he’s a really good dancer. And it’s so hot, unbearably so. He doesn’t step on your feet, and he leads your every step without being overpowering. Every song, you seem to get closer and closer until your chest is basically pressed right up against his, and he can still move gracefully.
“How’s this for proof?” He whispers, lips grazing over the shell of your ear. “Rooster’s got moves, but he isn’t half as good as me.”
You push back on his chest gently, raising your eyebrows. “Now I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get him jealous. Does mustache man get on your nerves that much?” You grin as he takes your hands in his. He rolls his eyes.
“I got the cutest girl in the room all to myself. Who wouldn’t be jealous? The only ploy here is the one where I try and get you to come home with me.”
Your teeth find purchase in your bottom lip, trying to hide your ever-growing smile. You might be getting free drinks more than once. “Buy me a drink and we’ll see how that works out.”
To his credit, Jake seems completely okay with getting to know you before heading out. The conversation is engaging, studded with flirting and genuine curiosity. It’s like he’s hanging on to every word you say, truly attempting to form any sort of connection. Most guys wouldn’t make this effort for a one night stand, especially not someone who looks like they could have a new one every night.
To say he’s beyond saving is an understatement in Jake’s opinion. With every second that goes by, you’re sounding more and more like his dream girl. You like his beer, his favorite place to eat, and you share a few of his hobbies. It’s like a match made in heaven.
As the night progresses, guilt starts eating at the hem of your shirt. The drinks are running low, and the sky is growing dim, and the opportunity to fulfill your challenge is opening up more with every second that ticks by. Do you really want this amazing guy to be a bet?
He stands to leave, offering a hand to help you slip off your bar stool. “Shall we?”
Your hesitation makes him falter just a bit. Jake would be okay with waiting, if he was being honest. Yeah, he’s been semi hard the entire time you ran your finger up and down your drink absentmindedly, but he could take you out on a real date first. One where you stare at him with those pretty eyes and smile your captivating smile.
The feeling takes over as you take in his willingness. “I have something to admit.” You murmur, almost too quiet to pick up over the din of the bar. Luckily for you, he has great hearing.
“Lay it on me, sweet thing. I can take it.” He grins. Your hands find the edges of your shorts and play with the little string on the seam that you’ve been meaning to cut for a few days now.
“I made a stupid agreement with my friends that if I took home the guy I thought was the hottest at the bar, then they’d pay for my drinks next time.” You blurt out. His eyes widen slightly, sending a pang of anxiety through you, before his lips curl up into a smile.
He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders, spinning you towards the entrance of the bar. “Well, we wouldn’t want a nice girl like you to pay for her own drinks, huh?”
You arrive at your small house and fumble with the lock while Jake presses hot kisses to your neck. You’re biting back a whimper as the door finally swings open, walking short, hurried steps into the bedroom. His hands are all over you, burning like fire. They’re gripping at your shirt, your waist, the column of your throat, your upper thigh— anywhere he can get ahold of. You pull off your shirt as the back of your knees hit the soft mattress.
Before you can blink, Jake has taken off his shirt too, and his hands are kneading the bottom of your breasts, beneath your lacy bra. “You sure?” He asks. You nod vigorously, unhooking your straps with your fingers, but he just looks down disapprovingly. “With your words, baby.”
“Yes.” You breathe. With that confirmation, he wastes no time.
Your clothes are tossed to some unknown corner of your room. You couldn’t care less about where they ended up, not when Jake is running his fingers over your hardening nipples.
He ghosts over them with just enough pressure to get you cursing. He’s hardly done anything and you can still feel a wetness gathering between your legs. When he moves up, taking your left nipple in his mouth, his bare thigh pressing between yours, a gasp escapes your mouth.
“That good?” He asks. His low voice sends vibrations up your chest, and you utter a quiet confirmation. He pays some attention to your other breast as you practically grind against his thigh, desperate for any sort of friction where you need it most.
He gives you a playful sigh, looking down at your writhing body. You look gorgeous, and knowing that his slight touches are enough to make you squirm is the ego boost of the century. Your eyelashes give a slight flutter at his next words. “Patience. I’ll give you what you want eventually, don’t worry.” His hand slips down and squeezes your thigh encouragingly.
“Now, Jake, please.” You almost whine. It’s embarrassing how well he seems to figure out your body. Even now, he’s kissing his way down your neck, finding every place that heightens your growing arousal. You hook your legs around his waist and rest your arms on the sides of his neck. “I want what I want now.”
It’s amazing how quickly your words travel to his dick. Jake’s roaringly hard, and you can feel it pressing against your inner thigh. You rub your legs up and down, teasing, drawing the most beautiful groan out of his open mouth. You’re going to be the death of him, he thinks.
“You drive a hard bargain, darlin’, and I’m not one to refuse.”
His hands travel down your body, taking time to caress your sides and send shivers up your spine. When he finally reaches the puddle under you, he quirks his eyebrows. “That excited?”
You roll your eyes at him, even though all he can see is the slightest movement of your face. “Get on with it, cowboy.”
He chuckles and places a small kiss on your hipbone. “Yes ma’am.”
He slips one finger inside you, pulling a soft noise from your swollen lips. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts. “Might take you a bit to get used to me.” He curls the finger gently, and you see stars as it brushes up against the spot inside of you that you can’t reach yourself. He’s bigger, stronger, longer, wider. A second finger joins the first, the digits stretching you deliciously.
A pressure begins to build in your stomach as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles. Ah, fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Your hips buck up slightly on top of your mattress, pressing your core into the palm of his hand. “Please.” You squeak.
He frowns, but his pupils are blown up in pure ecstasy. “Well excuse me for trying to give you a good time.” His free hand moves to pinch the curve of your ass lightly. You sit up fully and trail your nails down his back, reveling in the shiver it draws from him. With one smooth motion, you take his cock in your hand and give him a small stroke that has him jolting in his place.
“We can both have a good time if you would put on a condom and fuck me already.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop and consider how needy they sound. They seem to work, though, as he smirks at you and guides your hand up and down his length.
“I’m guessing your dresser drawer is ready for stuff like this?” He asks. You feel your face grow warmer at exactly how right he is as you slide the drawer open and grab one. “Ah, you’ve even got my size. What a responsible girl you are.” His voice comes out as a half laugh, and you try to stifle your own laughter with the palm of your hand.
“I like to be prepared.”
“Might as well throw the smaller ones away after tonight. You’ll only want mine when I’m done with you.” He’s so cocky it’s funny instead of off-putting. You hand him the condom and he rolls it over himself. He has a right to be cocky, you think, with a body like that. All taut muscle and chest hair. When he brings his hand up to the back of your neck to lower you down on your bed, your heart gives a mighty flutter.
“Prove it.” You say, for the second time that night. He gives you a look that says he’s going to prove it more than once, over and over until you’re begging him to keep proving it, then a bit more after that.
Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his tip pressing into your warm entrance. As he pushes forwards slowly, teasingly, you’re suddenly aware of just how big he is. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever felt, and despite how wet you’ve become, it’s a lot to handle. You wince as his length stretches you, waiting for the feeling to shift from uncomfortable to ungodly good.
“You bit off more than you can chew, didn’t you?” Jake teases. “We can stop if you want, just say the word.”
Your steady voice challenges him as you try to pull it together. “Keep going. I can take it.”
He doesn’t know how, but Jake gets impossibly harder. He indulges you, though, leaving small kisses on your cheeks to distract you from the pinching pain. Once he’s completely bottomed out, you breathe a sigh of relief. Then, of course, you notice that it feels good. Really good.
He’s pressed right up against a spot that has you seeing stars, and when he moves, slowly at first, the drag forces a moan from deep in your throat. You feel so full, so complete. His pace picks up, and you close your eyes.
“Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” He praises, voice strained. The movement of his hips is delicious. Smooth, quick, deep. When his fingers find his way to your clit, you almost finish right then and there.
You’re panting, breath coming out in hot waves against the nape of Jake’s neck. He shivers at the feeling, pressing closer to you to soak in more of that warmth. “Jake, I’m- I’m gonna…” you trail off, closing your mouth as another whimper tries to sneak out.
“Go for it, sweetness. Let me hear that pretty voice.”
With one, two, three more strokes, you feel the knot within you beginning to unravel. Your nails rake down his sides, one of his hands is gripping your waist and the other is firmly attached to your bundle of nerves, and his mouth is suddenly on yours, muffling your noises. It’s overwhelming. With one sharp gasp, you clench down hard and come undone.
Jake follows soon after as he pulls out with a groan. The sound falls heavily on your blissed-out ears.
You sit up, taking his face in your hand. “You’ve proved it. Oh, and I’m officially tonight’s lucky winner.” You say with a beaming smile. He scoffs lightly.
“You were a winner the minute you stepped into that bar.” He winks at you as your hand moves down to rest on his collarbone. “Just let me join in on your winnings when you cash out.”
“In your dreams, cowboy. The most you’ll get is a beer or two before my friends take their cards away.”
He blows a little air out of the side of his mouth before collapsing onto your bed like he owns it, pulling you into his arms. “I’ll take what I can get if it means I can see you again.”
You sigh happily, snuggling into his chest. “Is that a promise?”
“Sure is. The Hard Deck, next Friday. Bring your friends and we’ll figure it out from there.”
Taglist: @seitmai
#solar eclipse.#total eclipse.#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#top gun maverick#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin#top gun maverick x reader#top gun x reader#top gun#top gun hangman#top gun fandom#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun movie
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Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 8
Part 7
Shockingly, it turns out Danny knows how to cook. He's good at it, even, and when Tucker expresses his disbelief at the practiced way Danny moves in the kitchen Danny snorts.
“You know what the Fenton kitchen was like. When I got out of there and had access to food and kitchens that weren't biohazards, I learned eventually. I have a very distinct appreciation for good food nowadays, and I like being able to make it myself.”
He puts music on through a little Bluetooth speaker on the counter, invites them to participate, and they cook.
It's fun. They dance, they drink, they sample ingredients as they put their pizzas together. There's a minor flour war that sets off rounds of giggling and shrieking - more importantly it makes Danny cackle in a way she used to love and hasn't gotten to hear since they were teens.
It's exactly the same, and she missed it. Pure impish delight and mischief.
For as many things that are the same, there are ones that have changed.
Danny has a grace to him now that he didn't used to, and he moves near silently. He sways easily and elegantly to the music without thinking about it as they talk and make mischief with each other.
The oven and the adjusted thermostat make it much more comfortable in the apartment after a while, but Danny doesn't shed the pullover sweater he wears at any point. He didn't even roll the sleeves up to cook.
Come to think of it, when they entered high school he started doing that too. He wore long sleeves even in the summer - Sam tries not to think about abusive households or self harm. She hopes it's not that, but…
She puts the thoughts aside as well as she can.
Tucker had mentioned it before to her, but with all the grinning and laughing tonight Sam can see that he was right and Danny's teeth are sharper than she remembers. All four canine teeth are almost startlingly pointy.
She doesn't mention it. What she does mention is the apartment.
“This is a really nice place, Danny. You got a secret sugar daddy you haven't told us about?”
Tucker gapes at her and smacks her arm. Danny bluescreens for a moment before he snorts an ugly laugh and descends into near hysterics.
“Oh my God! Ancients, no! No, no sugar daddy. Just a well paying engineering gig lately, and some money I saved up before I left Amity. Holy shit, Sam.”
She shrugs, some tension she didn't know she was carrying leaving her shoulders. “Had to ask. Would have had a shovel talk to deliver.”
Danny starts laughing again, and Tucker groans and puts his head in his hands.
“I cannot believe you actually just asked him that,” Tucker moans.
“I can,” Danny responds with a chipper grin, Tucker's answering snort overlaid by the ding of the oven timer.
Danny knocks back the rest of his drink and waves in the vague direction of the living room area.
“I'll take this out and cut it. Go sit and we can eat it around the coffee table in case we want to watch a movie or something?”
The sitting area is spacious and comfortable, couches black leather. There's a heavy, fluffy white throw over the back of one that looks soft as all get out, but she and Tuck quickly decide to settle on the floor.
The coffee table is low enough that it's more convenient for reaching food and drinks set on it.
Tucker whistles appreciatively at the TV, so it must be a cutting edge new model. Fucking nerd.
Danny trots over not long after with two serving boards balanced precariously on one arm, his refilled sangria in one hand, the pitcher of sangria in the other and another beer held against his side by an awkward elbow.
Tucker and Sam both shoot to their feet to try and mitigate a disaster, but miraculously it all makes it to the table unharmed.
“It's almost like you guys don't trust me,” Danny pouts, his grin ruining it. “Careful, it's hot.”
“You are a perpetual accident waiting to happen,” Sam tells him scathingly, and he snorts with a peculiar look on his face.
“You don't know the half of it.”
As they all reach for slices of pizza, Danny takes them by surprise by taking a piece of Sam's, not Tucker's.
Tucker gapes at him. “Dude. Tell me you haven't betrayed me like that.”
Danny snorts, shoulders shaking with quiet chuckles. “Nah, I still eat meat. It's just sometimes I have spells where it kind of bothers me and I feel a little sick about it? I'm in one of those lately, but usually I'm still a huge burger and steak guy. Don't worry.”
“Huh. That's weird.”
Danny shrugs, taking a bite of his pizza despite his own warnings and cringing when it burns his mouth.
“Been like that since high school, actually. Used to be worse then,” he mumbles through his attempts to cool a mouthful of molten cheese.
Sam doesn't remember him ever having issues with it in middle school. She wonders what happened to change his outlook, but puts it aside. They're here to hang out and catch up. Have a good time. Not interrogate Danny.
They end up spending hours watching trashy TV and heckling the screen, making small talk and letting each other in on bits of their lives all the while. Everyone's well on their way to tipsy by the time they're done eating, though Danny a little more than Sam and Tuck.
He's loose-limbed and happy, sprawled across both of them in the haphazard pile they've ended up in. He seems incredibly content, and it does Sam's heart good to see him so relaxed.
She and Tucker are sitting with their backs against the couch, Danny's legs slung across Tucker's lap and head in Sam's. It's probably why he notices her shiver a little - it's still a little chilly in the apartment.
Lazily, he points up at the back of the couch. “You can pull that down and cover us if you want. It's really warm.”
Sam offers him a quiet thanks and reaches up to do just that, though she's startled to find that though the top is fluffy, the underside of what she'd thought was a throw is velvety and smooth. Like hide.
It's a real fur - hopefully ethically sourced. Decorated too, there are ornaments threaded into the corners and dangling that she can't pin the origin of. They're very pretty, shells and claws and beads.
As she pulls it down, she flips the edge up to peek at the underside and is startled to find the skin a distinct, familiar ectoplasmic green.
“Um. Danny. What kind of fur is this…?”
“Yeti,” Danny replies offhandedly, sipping his drink before freezing like the question and his own answer just caught up to him. “Uh.”
Masterpost
#dp x dc#everlasting trio#sam manson#tucker foley#danny phantom#danny after going through the apartment with a fine tooth comb to hide anything ghostly#*sits on the couch and leans back against a giant fucking yeti fur*#“good job me” :)
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Only Ours
Pairing: Vampire Matz x F Reader Word Count: 2.4K Genre: Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Activities
Your impossibly persuasive lovers feel the need to remind you where you belong.
a/n: This all came because I read a post from an Atiny (I cant remember who exactly) who said they loved the idea of vampire Matz taking very good care of their blood bag which of course got lodged in my brain and turned into this....So thank her if you find her this is all because of her.
It wasn’t that you wanted to make Hongjoong angry or make Seonghwa worry but it had been so long since you had felt the sun on your skin and you had missed it, but the incident that it had caused was not worth the trouble you had gone to to sneak out without either of them knowing in the first place. You had taken only one of their pages with you for company and help thinking that if you made sure to dress plainly you would easily blend in with the crowds of people that lingered in the city during the day.
“You know you are not allowed out there without us, you know this, those fuckers see you as nothing more than our blood bag and will do whatever it takes to hurt us through hurting you” Hongjoong growled, leaning against your bedroom door frame to watch you with darkness swimming behind his eyes and his fangs caught on his bottom lip. He had kept his distance from you from the moment that Yechan had brought you back inside, blood oozing from the cuts on your arms and face covered in smeared drying blood from the deep laceration under your left eye and split lip. His rage flowed from him in waves filling your room with a heaviness that scared you more than the men who had tried to hurt you. “They could have killed you, do you not even use that brain in your pretty little head?”.
“Joong, stop. Our princess is scared and I’m sure she is sorry” Seonghwa sighed looking at him in a way you knew meant they were speaking to each other in a way that was otherworldly and way beyond your mere human abilities. He turned back to you taking your hand in his carefully to prevent any sort of further injury although you knew he would never cause you pain.
“Is it just wounds to your arms and face, princess? Did they hurt you anywhere else?” His soft dark eyes were swimming with concern as he watched one of the house maids help clean your skin from blood and check you over from where you were perched on the edge of your bed in your underwear. The scratches he could fix, cuts he could heal but if they had touched you he would let Hongjoong murder every man within a 100 mile radius.
“No Hwa, my back is sore and my arms and face that’s all. I swear” you whispered shakily, tears swimming in your eyes with the fear of how they were reacting, it was always Jekyll and Hyde with them, one sweet and loving and one harsh and almost cruel and they would switch roles depending on their whim at the time.
“Hush princess” Seonghwa soothed cupping the side of your face as you sat up to show your back to the maid, you had long shed your embarrassment at being half dressed or even naked in front of the house staff, they never judged you or the wounds that you would occasionally be sporting when they came to serve your meals or help bathe you.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” you whimpered, looking down at your hands as the maid departed the room and Hongjoong slammed the door so hard behind her that it splintered against the frame.
“You will be when I force you to watch me drain that page in front of you” Hongjoong spat coldly striding towards you already pulling the sleeve of his shirt up to get to his wrist, he grabbed your chin roughly with the other hand his eyes piercing through you as he bit into his own wrist and pressed it to your lips forcing you to drink. His grip on you was bruising but you knew that you had to endure it there was no way you could stop him from doing whatever he pleased with you. The bitter metallic liquid slipped down your throat staining your lips as he sharply pulled it away from you again, the wound healing instantly.
“Please don’t hurt him, Joongie” you cried softly, your tears finally spilling down your cheeks in large fat drops “He’s only a child, he didn’t know any better”.
“He did call Sumin, Jinsik and Minjae when he sensed they were in trouble, and managed to get footage of the ones who dared touch her, so he would be worth keeping around” Seonghwa raised his eyebrows at him knowing that Hongjoong was probably not as angry as he was behaving he was more likely just worried and acting up to make his point. Hongjoon made another angry noise from the back of his throat before stalking from the room and slamming that door a second time, this time breaking it from its hinges completely.
You watched your arms as you felt the warmth of Hongjoong’s blood begin to spread throughout your body forcing your skin to knit back together and heal flawlessly leaving not a trace of the injuries that had been there only moments ago.
“How do you feel princess?” Seonghwa asked, his voice laced with softness and love as he pulled you to your feet gently and lowered his head to kiss your cheek.
“I’m scared Joongie hates me” you whined lowly once again looking towards the floor “I’m scared you’re angry with me”.
“Oh princess, I’m angry that anyone would hurt you, I’m sad that you thought you had to sneak away from us but I am not mad at you my love” he explained, chuckling as your head shot up to look at his face you eyes wide and confused “my pretty love” he murmured pressing his lips lightly to yours allowing you to move away if you wanted to, when you didn’t he pulled you into him tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His tongue probed at the seam of your lips to get access to your own, which you gave instantly so he could claim your mouth fully licking into you and massaging your tongue with his. Without warning he picked you up effortlessly, his mouth still attached to yours pressing you against the wall beside your bed. Wrapping your legs around him he pressed his already half hard length against your core making you gasp.
“Hwa” you whimpered breathlessly, as he continued to grind himself against you, his lips now against your throat as you felt his fangs begin to come in and prick against your skin making you shudder in his arms.
“Will you let me?” he groaned, reaching for the satin that separated you from him, tearing it away in a sharp tug, his fingers not waiting for your words before he began rubbing them through your folds to collect your nectar “I know what tasting our blood does to you princess”.
“Please” you begged softly, “please Hwa”. His deep chuckle vibrated through his chest and into you making you press yourself against him further.
“With pleasure princess” his whispered his voice deeper than before as the black that was usually hidden by the brown of his eyes took over, his lips pressed back to your neck this time sinking his teeth into the side of your throat the initial sting washed away by the feeling of him impaling you on his cock. The stretch of your walls as he bottomed out within you making your head spin as he relentlessly began snapping his hips into yours as he drank from you.
“Seonghwa” you moaned loudly, you could do little but claw at him and be enveloped by his scent, the feeling of him surrounding you and filling you was too much for you to keep yourself quiet, his need for you filling your lungs as you breathed him in.
“Looks like you’re having fun” Hongjoong drawled from the doorway stepping over the splintered wood that he had caused earlier. “I thought we were punishing her Seonghwa yet here I find you fucking her senseless”. Seonghwa’s hips stopped as soon as he heard Hongjoongs voice, slowly retracting his teeth from your neck, allowing your blood to trickle from the wounds down your chest and between your still covered breasts.
“You wanted to punish her Hongjoong” Seonghwa grumbled. “I want to remind her who she belongs to” licking the blood that was now staining your bra. He smirked against your skin before slowly moving his hips against languidly thrusting into you just enough to make you sigh with pleasure and annoy his counterpart. You heard Hongjoong click his tongue no doubt rolling his eyes as Seonghwa as he continued to keep you unable to focus on them properly too and more concerned with the cock that was filling you so well.
“And who does she belong to Seonghwa?” Hongjoong’s honeyed voice filled your ears as you tried to look past Seonghwa towards him, his blood compelling you to be near him.
“Me and of course you” Seonghwa wrinkled his nose moving you away from the wall but keeping his cock buried deeply inside you. He lowered you to the bed finally pulling his length from you making you pout and whine quietly.
“Lay down Hwa, let me see her ride you” Hongjoong instructed casually knowing that you would follow his every command, Seonghwa nodded and undressed himself laying in the middle of your bed his hard length wet and leaking from how hard he had already been fucking you. Hongjoong took your chin in his fingers, kissing you sensually “Up you get princess, ride Hwa for me, show me how much you love his cock inside you”.
You crawled over Seonghwa without hesitation lowering yourself down on him slowly, giving Hongjoong a little show of you taking each and every inch of Seonghwa’s cock mewling as you seated your hips flush against his. Planting your hands on his abs to steady yourself you began to move slowly rolling your hips to adjust to him again making sure you got the angle just right so that when he inevitably took over from you he would be hitting exactly where you needed him. Too lost in the soft grunts and breathy moans that Seonghwa was making you didn’t even notice that Hongjoong had begun undressing of that he was watching just how wet you were from his spot behind you on the bed until his fingers began stroking your glistening folds around where you were already stretching around Seonghwa.
“Joongie” you gasped unsure what he was planning “I…” Seonghwa cut you off by kissing you against his tongue tangling with yours as Hongjoong lapped at the drying blood on your neck.
“Let us have you baby” Hongjoong purred, while you continued to ride Seonghwa at the lazy pace he had started when Hongjoong entered the room, you couldn’t see whatever they were communicating to each other but when Seonghwa slowly pulled out of you, you couldn’t help the whimpered protest that left your throat leaving them both smirking at your neediness. “Don’t worry princess, you can have him back in just a second”.
The two sets of hands that moved you exactly where they wanted were careful despite their obvious strength positioned you on your knees straddling Seonghwa’s lap letting you enthusiastically sink back down on his cock making you groan softly his lips finding your throat where he had previously drank from you, sinking his fangs back in and making you arch your back in pleasure.
“Good girl princess” Hongjoong muttered against the other side of your throat forward, your brain was still too hazy to register that Hongjoong was positioning himself behind you, his throbbing tip pressed against you but as he pushed himself against your already stretched entrance his sunk his own teeth into you causing you to cry out as the pair of them stretched you open so far that the pain mixed with the pleasure of having them both inside you. Moving slowly they felt your muscles loosen up slightly the more they drank your body reacting to them exactly how they wanted. Hongjoong started snapping his hips harder, forcing you to bounce on Seonghwa as he held your hips still tightly, his fingertips no doubt leaving marks in your flesh. Seonghwa was longer, the tip of his cock almost kissing your cervix, while Hongjoong was thicker and angled himself perfectly to catch against the mushroom tip of Seonghwa to press perfectly against the spot that made you see stars.
“Fuck princess, so good” Songhhwa moaned loudly finally pulling his mouth from you to kiss you again.
“Hwa, Hwa, fuck Joongie” you cried their names the only thing you could really remember as each vein and ridge of there cocks slid against your fluttering walls.
“That’s it my love, take us both in that tight little hole” he smirked watching your eyes roll back in your head feeling another wave of your slick coated his cock and dripping out of you.
“Joongie” you sobbed as he thrust his harder against your arse as you felt the knot building in your core start to unravel “Joongie…ahh…agh”.
“You going to cum on our cocks baby? Sucking us in so deep, need us to fill you up? ” Hongjoong grinned devilishly against you, licking the blood flowing from your punctured neck. Your vision started to go dark as you felt molten fire fill your veins as you unraveled around them. You screamed helplessly before slumping against Seonghwa’s chest, feeling them both begin to thrust desperately into your abused hole.
“Fuck” Seonghwa growled deeply the sound reverberating through his chest and into yours as you felt him flood your walls with his seed sloppily continuing to move his hips to ride out his own pleasure.
“Shit” Hongjoong roared following the pair of you into his own orgasm, thick ropes of his own cum filling you and dripping out of you as you panted between their sweat covered chests.
Painfully slowly Hongjoong pulled himself from you and took you in his arms, helping you from Seonghwa’s lap and allowing you to lay bonelessly against the sheets. Brushing the hair from your forehead as he kissed you chastely.
“Here princess” Seonghwa whispered, placing something wet against your lips, you opened your mouth obediently allowing his blood to coat your tongue “We were a little too hard on you my love”. Your eyes came back into focus to see them both looking sheepish with bloodstains smeared across their chests.
“What happened?” you blinked confused concern spiking in your heart.
“Shhh princess” Hongjoong murmured, motioning for Seonghwa to join in your cuddling “We may have drained you a little too much, we will have to feed you over the next few hours to make sure you don’t get sick baby”.
“Love you Hongjoong, Love you Seonghwa” you mumbled, closing your eyes again and enjoying their embrace until you couldn’t keep yourself from falling asleep.
a/n: Thank you for reading my loves and thank you for all your likes, reblogs, comments and encouragement. I love you all to bits xx
Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar
@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16
@fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @tanzen-ist-gold
#kim hongjoong x reader#park seonghwa x reader#matz x reader#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez smut#hongjoong smut#hongjoong fic#hongjoong fanfic#hongjoong hard thoughts#seonghwa fanfic#seonghwa smut#seonghwa hard thoughts#seonghwa scenarios#seonghwa hard hours#hongjoong hard hours#hongjoong scenarios#hongjoong imagines#ateez hard hours#ateez hard thoughts#matz smut#vampire matz#ateez matz
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You know, something that I was thinking about while I was walking my way towards my car was how the lads' men would treat you on mothers day with their kids?
Like think about it? — the morning hasn't even started yet, and they are already up and ready for the day before you could even crack a centimeter of your eyelids. and that's not because they didn't bother to wake you up on such an important day…
But because they promised their kiddo, they would serve you breakfast in bed
Like Xavier?... Now you cannot tell me Xavier wouldn't guide his toddler on how to properly stir the pancake batter from the bowl– like this man is patient, gently guiding their tiny hands with his own– he would soften and tender his voice as his baby tells him how much they want their momma to love it – that I even bet you by the time you wake up to the smell of pancakes and fruit on a tray …Xavier is already standing by your bedside with your child proudly presenting their new creation.
“Papa, is this enough?” they ask, holding up a slightly uneven cup of flour. Xavier glances at it, his blue eyes soft with patience.
“A little more,” he murmurs, placing his hand over theirs to guide the pour. “Careful, not too much.”
They continue working together in silence, Xavier focused on making sure everything is perfect, while the child chatters excitedly about surprising you.
“I bet Mama’s going to love this!” they exclaim, cheeks dusted with flour. Xavier’s lips twitch into a small smile, his voice steady as ever.
“She’ll love it because you made it for her.”
Sylus: now we know this man can cook ..and if he could ..he would prepare an entire cuisine that would rival Michelin star restaurants…he can make it basic ..but we all know he won't..it ain't gonna be some cereal with milk and maybe an orange on the side..NAH ..he gonna be wide awake in the morning with your toddler bouncing all over him in the kitchen eager to help at all costs to give you what you deserve – like he would task your baby to give your favorite drink in the morning in a glass cup as he whisks eggs and butter together.
“Daddy, I think I made a mess,” she says, eyes wide with innocence.
Sylus smirks, wiping a streak of flour off her nose with his thumb. “It’s not a mess. It’s art,” he declares, glancing at the bowl of slightly lumpy batter.
She giggles again, bouncing on her toes. “Mommy likes art …right?”
“Yes, she does," Sylus says, his red eyes gleaming with amusement as he pulls the tray together. “But maybe next time, we’ll leave the drinks to me, alright?”
Zayne: …now zayne tho …zayne is a different story ..he always lets his actions speak louder than his words and this is no different like he doesn't need to tell you how much he appreciates you but the gentle way he guides your toddler as they cut fruit says everyyyythingggg — like he would let them take the lead and offering quiet encouragement as your baby carefully cuts another strawberry in half
They frown, concentrating hard as they carefully slice the strawberries, while Zayne watches quietly, offering the occasional word of encouragement. “You’re doing great,” he says, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he slices the melons beside them.
“Is Mama still sleeping?” they ask, their voice soft with excitement.
Zayne nods, his green eyes glowing with quiet pride. “She’ll be surprised when she sees what we’ve made.”
As they finish assembling the fruit salad, Zayne picks up the tray, balancing it carefully with one hand while resting the other on his child’s shoulder. “Ready?” he asks, and they nod eagerly.
When they walk into the room, your child bounces onto the bed, proudly holding up a forkful of fruit. “Mama, look! I helped!”
Zayne sits beside you, his voice low and warm as he says, “Happy Mother’s Day, love. We wanted to make this day special for you.”
Rafayel: …oh my lord ..rafayel ..listen you walk into that kitchen and it's gonna be mess …ur toddler still gonna be smiling in the corner all proud of themselves saying how much they love you and prepared you sum scramble eggs with toast— only for it to be burnt and half baked. Flour is everywhere…the fruits they planned to put together that your toddler suggested they should make a smiley face with the eggs as eyes?? …all over the place. But it doesn't mean the morning went to waste!? – the whole scenery is adorable and filled with affection that you bet Rafayel is still going to say it was made with love.
You wake up to the unmistakable sound of chaos coming from the kitchen. There’s laughter, the clatter of dishes, and... the smell of something burning? You sit up, rubbing your eyes, just as Rafayel strides into the room, a lazy grin on his face and your toddler trailing behind him, still beaming.
“Mama! We made you breakfast!” your toddler shouts, bouncing on their toes with excitement.
Rafayel raises an eyebrow, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “Yeah, ‘breakfast’ might be a generous word for it.”
Consui random thoughts
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace x reader#lnds sylus x reader#lads sylus x reader#sylus x mc#sylus x you#zayne x reader#zayne x mc#zayne x you#xavier x reader#xavier x mc#xavier x you#lads xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#rafayel x mc#lads rafayel x reader#lnds rafayel x reader
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Nuts - ||k.nj||
Description: how had Namjoon ended up in this situation? What do you mean he had to actually make a connection instead of fucking your brains out?
Genre: Oneshot, Non-idol AU, Rapper!Namjoon x Makeup Artist f!reader, strangers-to-lovers, Too Hot To Handle inspired, SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Hopeful ending.
Warnings: Namjoon is a bit of a player and full of himself, just smut overall with a hopefully balanced plot, eventually he’ll get back in touch with his feelings, this might be the longest oneshot I've written? Oral sex f receiving, fingering f receiving, grinding, slight exhibitionism.
Word Count: 8.5k+
Namjoon thought himself a reasonable person, horny, but reasonable. He never needed to go to extremes to get what he wanted, whether it be an artist he liked to feature on a song, or fuck the sexy girl that kept bringing champagne over to his table at club. She was leaning against the wall of some small maintenance closet, her back was arched as he pounded into her relentlessly.
Once they finished, he could tell she would want more, doing a not so subtle attempt at slipping her phone number into Namjoon’s back pocket. He smirked and walked out after fixing himself up, knowing full well this would be the last time he’d see her, Namjoon never came back for seconds once he had them. It was nothing against the women he slept with, he didn’t used to be this way, but a few instances of heartbreak and a toxic cycle of make up sex can lead one to denounce love all together and give into pure carnal desire.
Such was Namjoon’s case.
When he arrived at his table he noticed his manager, Jin, and his two best friends, Hoseok and Yoongi, did not receive him with the usual knowing smiles, granted, this time he hadn’t waited long to ditch them for some pussy. Namjoon usually gave it about an hour or two into an outing before temporarily or permanently leaving his friends, but he supposed tonight he really needed a quick fix.
“Why do y’all look like you’re mad at me?” he asked, taking a seat and picking at the chips and salsa that had been placed at the center of their table.
The VIP section of the club was nice, it had a great mix of different low and high-grade celebrities, Namjoon liked to think he was making his way up from the low end of the spectrum, now that he’d been picked up a small label and his mixtape would go from SoundCloud to mainstream platforms.
“We’ve barely been here for half an hour, Namjoon-ah,” Jin complained, holding the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, Namjoon just continued to stare at him confused. “Well, it’s not my fault, every time she was serving us drinks her tits were right there, and I don’t know if you noticed but they were beautifully proportioned,” he smiled cheekily.
His friends didn’t reciprocate it.
“The label signed you up for a reality show,” Jin stated bluntly, Namjoon almost thought he heard a record scratch, “why?”
“They think it’s good exposure for you,” the older shrugged, “plus it’s like a retreat, you get to stay in a villa with other people and you play games through the summer to win a cash prize.”
“Will I get to keep the cash prize when I win?” he asked, Yoongi and Hoseok sharing a look of annoyance at their friend’s cockiness.
Namjoon had never really been the cocky type, but once his mixtapes and albums started getting hundreds of thousands of streams, and girls seemed to follow him like bees in search of honey, he’d seemed to have his feet a little too far off the ground, and it got worse once he was signed to the label.
“The label is considering it if you create enough buzz around yourself.”
“Well then, I guess I have my work cut out for me,” he smiled, dimples on full display.
You kept refreshing your email every minute, you needed this opportunity, you needed this. It had been your dream since becoming a makeup artist to open your own salon. You were tired of taking clients in the small living room of your studio apartment.
You had been looking for an investor for months when you finally found one that had been interested in your business. He had arranged an interview with you and had asked for a portfolio of your work, just to see what you offered would be worth what you were asking, everything in the interview suggested it was. You were told to wait about a week for them to get back to you, and now that it had been a couple days after the week mark you were starting to get nervous.
The notification sound of a new email made your heart start to race.
From: Hwang Jongdae
Subject: Investment on 2!3! Beauty Salon
Good morning, miss Yn,
After careful consideration of your proposal, we have unfortunately decided that we will not move forward…
You didn’t need to read the rest of the lengthy email, you slammed your laptop shut, immediately reaching for your phone to call your sister, tears inevitably escaped your eyes as soon as she picked up your call.
“Ynie what’s wrong?” She asked, her face showing immediate concern. You explained the situation to her through sobs and snot.
“I don’t know what to do!”
“You could come out with me and Danbi, we are going to the club tonight, maybe you’ll find some rich drunk guy that will invest in your salon.”
You were apprehensive at first, but in the end here you were, in the middle of a night club making somewhat conversation with some guy who’d long taken off his suit jacket and tie, you weren’t planning on anything, you just wanted to someone to converse with since your sister and her girlfriend had ditched you to go dancing.
It wasn’t your fault you had ended up outside making out. You were just sad and needed some cheering up, making out with a stranger sounded like a quick fix, and maybe you’d get a room somewhere and you could enjoy the brief happiness that came with having a one night stand
“Well, I think, your story could make for great reality TV,” his speech was slightly slurred as he pulled away, a sign that the glass he was somehow still holding was definitely not one of the first ones he’d had tonight, “I’m casting this…um…competition show, you get to spend the summer in a pretty villa with pretty people and play games, you can win a SHIT load of money,” he kept leaning toward you, you had to hold back the urge to puke as his breath reeked of alcohol.
You were interested as soon as he mentioned money, you didn’t care what kind of competition it was, you would do anything to make your dream into reality, even if it meant participating in some stupid TV show and dealing with dumb people.
Namjoon was a bit upset about giving up his phone the night before their first day of shooting, but this retreat was meant to be a place where he could disconnect entirely. Which wasn’t an entirely bad idea, the past few weeks was mainly a lot of paperwork and filming his intro for the show, apparently, he’d be the “first to arrive.”
He was happy to see champagne set up on a hightop table, he served himself a glass and waited, other guys started showing up, and then the girls started showing up as well, and to say he was pleasantly surprised was an understatement, all the women were beautiful and when you walked in?
Namjoon quickly knew that you'd be his target.
He was immediately attracted to you, for a moment he really thought that whoever was up there, if there was anyone, must've put you right there, you were exactly the type he went for when he looked for a quick lay. You were wearing a full body bathing suit, given that the villa was at a beachfront, like shows like these often were. Your hair was down in what he assumed was its natural form, and your make up accentuated your face's features beautifully.
The rest of the girls immediately went to greet you, while the men just stared and spoke amongst themselves about who they liked, it was mostly varied answers. The six girls were the stereotypical body type you’d see in shows like these, although some were definitely on the curvier side, all from different places, the guys were pretty much the same, all well built and mouth-watering.
“Okay so to catch you up to speed…um” one of the girls spoke.
“Yn”
“Right, we have all been scanning the boys and let me tell you, it’s going to be a bloodbath,” she chuckled, as did all the others. She introduced herself as Andrea, and the other girls introduced themselves shortly after.
They walked you over to where the high-tops were, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way the beautiful dragon-eyed man was devouring you with his gaze, and regardless of your small cover-up skirt and your full body bathing suit, you felt very much naked and aroused. If his gaze alone could do that, what could he do to you?. You had no time to calm your racing heart as he approached, his tall frame towered over you.
“Hey,” his voice sounded like honey, “my name is Namjoon, what’s yours?” he wasn’t subtle at all with the way his eyes trailed up and down your body.
“Yn,” you held your hand out to him “nice to meet you Namjoon,” he took it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss, you quickly took your hand away.
“What, you don’t like chivalry?”
“You don’t seem like the type to do it genuinely,” you admitted.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”
Your neck was hurting badly, you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to you, making his stature much more than what you had initially suspected. Namjoon enjoyed the vertical advantage, as it gave him a perfect view to your tits, so beautiful and round, he could feel himself slowly harden, he was ready to tell you to come with him to one of the rooms so you could act upon it, when the host of the show finally showed up.
“Hello guys!” he was a beautiful man as well, did this show only look for good looking people? The producer you’d met said you’d be with pretty people, but this was another level, what a major boost to your ego. “I’m Taehyung, welcome Games in Paradise!” Everyone cheered and clapped as the host gave a pretty boxy smile, “you’ll spend the rest of your summer here, where if you succeed with our challenges, you will win a fantastic prize! Your first challenge will be announced later on by the beach, please explore your home for the next two months and enjoy!” Cheers erupted from the small group again, and everyone dispersed after Taehyung walked away.
And explore you did, the villa was huge, it came fully equipped with everything one could only dream of having. The kitchen was fully stocked with a bunch of fancy appliances for your convenience, the bathrooms were gorgeous and came with both a standing shower and a bathtub, the sleeping area had six queen sized beds and nightstands were full of things to make all the sex everyone was planning on having more enjoyable, from condoms to toys, to lube; a few rooms were locked and you weren’t sure why, but no one really cared, considering everyone starting breaking off into duos and small groups to start enjoying their time there.
(T-4 hours)
Andrea, and yourself were enjoying sun-tanning on the lounge chairs right in front of the pool, your cover-ups long gone as your asses in full display as you laid on your stomach. You were reading a book you had picked out of the villa’s small bookcase, while your newly found friend had her eyes closed.
“So, you and Namjoon huh?” she spoke, you looked up to see her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose as she stared at you suggestively. “He’s hot as fuck, anyone here would stupid not to be turned on by his mere sight,” you shrugged.
“The way he was looking at you I thought he was going to fuck you right then and there!” she giggled. You sighed in response and went back to reading your book, mainly to distract yourself from the godly man you’d met, and the many things you wished he’d do to you, so your wetness wouldn’t ruin your favorite swimsuit.
Namjoon was watching you from far away, two of the guys he’d met on either side of him also watching the girls they so badly wanted. Namjoon would enjoy his time here, whether it was with you, or someone who offered to help with his urges sooner. “Okay,” he stood up from his spot, “y’all can enjoy staring and not touching, I’m going in,” he started walking off when he felt a smack in his ass, surely from Jimin, one of the guys he’d been seating with, and his newest friend.
As he walked down to the lounge chairs he noticed someone else taking your friend away, leaving you alone.
Perfect, no interruptions, he thought.
“Hello again,” greeted you once he was close enough to you, he sat down at the spot your friend was previously laying on, his eyes shamelessly enjoying the view of your ass.
“If we still had our phones I’d tell you to take a picture,” you quipped, Namjoon looked back to your face and found you had been staring at him, he flushed slightly at being caught, but got himself together fairly quickly.
“Can you blame me when you have such a wonderful ass?” he chuckled, his dimples in full display which only made him more attractive in your eyes. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely filled with tension, you took off your sunglasses, a small smirk on your face “I bet you’d love to fuck it wouldn’t you?”
Namjoon wasn’t expecting such a bold response. He choked on his own saliva and got into a coughing fit as he heard you cackle loudly. When it finally subsided, he noticed you’d left, leaving a water bottle at his feet and a note on the lounge chair you had been seated on not so long ago.
Meet me in the sleeping area ;)
(T- 30 minutes)
There truly was no way of explaining your current predicament. How had you ended up like this so quickly? It was truly all a blur.
All you knew was that you were straddling Namjoon, dry-humping his erection over his swimming trunks, and making out ferociously.
Namjoon felt his dick getting impossibly stiff as you rubbed your pussy against it, your moans swallowed by his lips as he put his tongue down your throat. He played with your tits, massaging one of the mounds with one hand and holding your ass with another. “Can I pull down the straps?” he groaned as you moved to kiss him behind his ear and down his sharp jawline; you managed to muster a pathetic ‘mmhmm’ and you felt your nipples brushing against his chest and then being pinched and rolled between Namjoon’s thumb and index finger.
“Your body is so gorgeous,” he complimented before putting the breast he was playing with in his mouth, making you arch your back and moan as he sucked and licked it to his heart’s content. When he released your breast from his mouth he slowly dragged his hand down to your core, expertly moving your swimsuit aside and using his thumb to rub your already sensitive bundle of nerves, “fuck!” you moaned, he then moved his hand so that his thumb continued to rub your clit as he inserted his finger inside of you, “so wet for me,” he added another, “so tight,” and another “can’t wait to fuck this slick, tight pussy until you can’t walk” his fingers curved deliciously against your walls and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening inside you.
“Take off your pants,” you managed to plead.
“Hmm?”
“Take off your pants, please, I want to rid-”
“Hello,” a robotic voice interrupted your pleas, scaring you so badly you almost ended up falling off of Namjoons lap. He gently took his fingers out of you and fixed up your swimsuit just in case someone was about to walk in. “Who the fuck is there?!” Namjoon asked sternly, carefully moving you off his lap.
“My name is Lana,” that’s when you finally noticed the small cone on top of a decorative table. “I hope you are enjoying the retreat, please head down to the palapa, it should be next to the place you arrived at today.”
You and Namjoon stared at each other, having a mental conversation on whether you actually wanted to or not, ultimately going back to making out. Namjoon wanted you so badly, and the stupid Lana robot had definitely not made him any harder, but he was sure he’d be back to it once you guys got back in the mood.
“Hurry up, lovebirds.” Lana’s robotic timbre interrupted them yet again, making you fall backwards on the bed “ugh!” You complained, “Let’s go before she becomes more of a buzz kill.”
You sat next to Namjoon, his arm was around your shoulders. You saw Andrea sitting among some of the girls, one of them in particular, Jihee you thought was her name, was throwing daggers at you with her eyes. All you could do was give her a tight-lipped smile, looking away from her as the small cone that had scared you earlier slowly rose up on a platform in the middle of the table.
“Hello, contestants,” her multicolored light blinked as she spoke, “I have gathered information during this first day of the retreat.” Everyone looked at each other, in a very ‘what the fuck’ kind of way because up until she spoke, you had thought her to be a very fancy diffuser, “it has been most insightful.”
“What the fuck does she mean?” Andrea spoke up.
“The purpose of the retreat is to have you create deep, meaningful, emotional connections, instead of the meaningless flings you’ve all been having.”
“So… have platonic relationships with women?” Jimin looked confused, he didn’t have to wait long for an answer.
“To incentivize you not to do this, I have set the prize money to one-hundred thousand dollars.”
‘Oh my god’s’ were spread out through the group, as they all talked about what that amount of money could do for them, you opened up to Namjoon and Andrea who were the people sitting closest to you, “that money could definitely get me my salon!”
“You’re a hairdresser?” Andrea asked.
“Makeup artist, but I’m planning on having a full service salon,” you smiled sweetly, Namjoon found the sparkle in your eye somewhat endearing when you talked about your dream, but, he couldn’t let himself dwell on it for long, he wanted a good lay, not a deep connection, deep connections had only caused him pain.
“However,” Lana interrupted the group’s chatter, “there are conditions to your stay in order to win the prize,” you hoped the collective complaint wasn’t missed on the small cone, although you were sure it was, it was a robot after all.
“There will be no kissing.”
Your eyes widened, as did most of the groups. “Well, she only said kissing right?” Jihee said.
“No heavy petting.”
“This is fucking stupid,” Daniel, one of the guys Namjoon had been hanging out with spoke.
“No sex of any kind, this includes self-gratification,” the chorus of what’s and no’s that broke out from the group were immediate, and you felt regretful, if you had cut to the chase sooner you could’ve gotten a really good dicking from Namjoon, and now you were all going to be blue balled.
Or were you?
(Day 2)
You woke up the next morning comfy, you and Namjoon decided you would share a bed, and his muscular arms held you tightly, and you felt protected in a way. You hadn’t been one for cuddling in a long time, not since your last relationship almost 4 years ago. It had ended quite tumultuously, especially due to its toxic and suffocating nature. It was mainly why you had one night stands, you didn’t have to cuddle if you didn’t want to, you could just leave right after.
You also didn’t miss Namjoon’s morning wood against your ass, no one was awake yet aside from you, so you decided to be a little risky and pretend like you were adjusting yourself, only to rub up on Namjoon’s dick some more. His grip tightened at your hips, you felt his breath against your ear as he groaned.
“You better stop that, or I’ll fuck you just like this,” he whispered, you could feel yourself getting slick at his words, how badly you wanted him follow through. “Don’t you want the money?” you whispered back, doing your best to hold your moans as he grinded against your ass, “Lana is a dumb fucking robot, how will she know?”
Fuck it.
That’s how you ended up with your shorts and underwear halfway down your legs, and with Namjoon’s fingers deep in your pussy, just like last night. You were biting your pillow and doing your best to hold back your moans. “You ready for me baby?”
Best you could do was reach back and touch him, you wanted to keep quiet just in case someone heard you. He slowly teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, you had yet to see it but when it breached you, you could tell he was thick, and as he slowly fed himself into your pussy, it was ten times harder to stay quiet. Yup. He was definitely big.
He fucked you slowly, and he had to hold himself back as well, your pussy felt so good and it almost felt like you sucked him in deeper with every thrust, he wanted to rail you, to make you scream and moan so that everyone knew just how good he fuck you. “You’re taking my cock so well,” he praised you, causing you to clench harder on him, “if you keep doing that I’m going to cum,” you answered, “why don’t you hmm? Maybe I’ll pump full of my cum too, and make you keep it in so no one knows what we did,” he bit your earlobe and you almost moaned out loud. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your back arched from the pleasure the beautiful man behind you was giving you, it wasn’t long before he came as well, and just like he said, you were filled to the brim.
After your morning shower and getting yourself ready, you were out and about with the girls hanging out in the pool, it was a hot, sunny day, and you were having fun hanging out with the gals.
“Were you okay this morning, Yn? I thought I kept hearing moan?” Jihee asked, making the rest of the girls turn to you. You and Namjoon had agreed to not tell anyone about your little escapade this morning. “I was having a really bad nightmare, I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically.
Jihee didn’t seem to believe you, meanwhile the other girls rushed to ensure you were okay, they kept asking what your nightmare was about, thankfully, before the show you’d have a really bad one, so you used that one for your story, they didn’t know it wasn’t recent. However, you didn’t miss the angry looks from Jihee, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the guys came over to the pool to get you, stating that Lana had called for you all to go to the palapa.
You sat next to Namjoon again, who placed his arm on the armrest behind you. You were staring off, not really setting your eyes on one thing until they landed on his thighs. They were so thick and muscular, you wondered what riding them felt like, perhaps that could be the next thing you and Namjoon sneaked off to do.
“Hello, contestants,” the small cone in the middle of the table spoke, everyone greeted it back. “It has come to my attention someone may have broken the rules,” everyone stared around, except for Namjoon, who was playing with the leftover fabric of the headband you were wearing.
“No one’s done anything Lana,” Jimin stated.
“My cameras picked up movement and audio last night, are you sure?” The girls stared at you so quick you were worried they would break their necks, “Yn? You said you had a bad nightmare last night didn’t you?” Jihee’s voice was laced with cattiness, and you felt a slight tug to your headband.
“My cameras picked Namjoon, speaking also.”
“Her nightmare sounded pretty bad, I was whispering in her ear to calm her down, nothing happened,” the way he lied so effortlessly made you feel weird, and you remembered why you’d been single for so long, you didn’t want to be in another situation where you were gaslighted and lied to.
You were grateful that you had kept your movement so slow and subtle.
“Just a warning, if you are found breaking the rules, depending on what you do, you will lose money.”
All hell broke loose then.
(Day 14)
You had managed to go this far without you or Namjoon making a single sexual move, and it was killing him not being able to plow you like he wanted to. It was good because you weren’t the first to lose the group money, Daniel and Jihee were surprisingly the firsts to do so, Jihee had given head to Daniel twice in one day, losing twelve thousand dollars. Later on, Andrea and Jimin kissed a few times, losing six thousand dollars.
Namjoon thought that building an emotional connection was dumb, he’d done that before, and each time it ended in a heartbreak worse than the last, his most recent relationship being what made him swear off on relationships. The girl he had dated was someone he’d loved, he’d do everything for her, every song was for her, any money made from his music went to both his and her bills, he almost dropped his best friends for her.
And then he found out she’d been cheating on him all along.
It absolutely broke him, he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t good enough, he’d always been a gentleman, he would spoil her, love her, why wasn’t that enough?
He didn’t care anymore, when he had an urge he would go to the clubs, or even after a gig he would pull a fan he found hot and he would fuck them until he was satisfied, leaving shortly after, or if he was craving something more intimate he would cuddle them after for a little while, no deep conversation, no sob stories shared, no number exchange. No strings attached. It was the only way not to get hurt.
You were so nice, such a good fuck. He almost wished you had met a few years before, then again would he have looked your way? He always seemed to be dating women who only wanted him for his money, women who never appreciated the little things. You did. He’d made you coffee this morning, using the keurig in the kitchen because he knew he would burn the villa down if he did it like some of the others were making it. He did it because you had become somewhat friends, sexual tension aside, your conversations were great, even if they were forced at first to distract you both from how badly you wanted the other, maybe he’d leave this with you as a good friend. All the girls cooed at the nice gesture, and Namjoon visibly cringed “it’s just fucking coffee it doesn’t mean anything.”
Oh, how those words hurt you.
You had unfortunately developed a crush for the rapper. He was so incredibly smart, he had such wisdom and insight, and his face card was crazy. You had felt horny the first few days, after your small rendezvous, but that subsided once you had more and more conversations, you really like his brain. However, how you felt didn’t matter, he didn’t want you like that, you were someone he fucked once and that he wants to fuck again, nothing more, nothing less. So, maybe it was a good thing that new players came into the scene.
Lana announced them, and it wasn’t long before you spotted them walking down the beach, two men. Both men were absolutely ripped, one of them had a full sleeve and piercings, making you salivate at the sight, the other didn’t have any tattoos, but he had a somewhat big nose and a beautiful smile. When they arrived they quickly introduced themselves as Christopher and Jungkook. The latter seemed to have immediately set an eye on you as he immediately started conversing with you and tried to get to know you better. You and the others had to explain the rules to the newcomers, they weren’t exactly thrilled, but they got over somewhat quickly.
“Ynie, do you want to go talk somewhere else alone?” the doe-eyed man asked, and how could you say no to that pretty smirk. Namjoon didn’t really like it as he saw you walk away with the younger man.
“You can’t talk to her the way you did this morning and expect her not to move on,” Andrea spoke, Jimin giggled next to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t care,” he clarified, making your friend roll her eyes.
“Attention, contestants,” Lana’s voice broke through the various conversations, “there will be a special event happening near the garden tomorrow, please go there in the morning.”
“What’s in it for us anyway?” Chris spoke up.
“The person who shows the most progress and success will win a date with a person of their choosing,” now that changes things.
(Day 15)
Without words. That’s what the workshop was called.
Lana had paired all of you up, and you had ended up being paired with Jungkook, whilst Namjoon was paired with Jihee. Namjoon wasn’t one to be possessive of the people he fucked, but it wasn’t that he fucked you before, you were his friend, and Jungkook seemed like he was up to no good, what with the big deceitful doe eyes.
You were excited though, it was a fresh start for you, maybe Jungkook will be able to give you that deep emotional connection you were supposed to look for. You hadn’t wanted it at first, but your growing feelings for Namjoon along with all the workshops you had done so far helped you realize that. This one in particular had two stages, the first one was picking up on your partner’s body language. You had to go for a hug with Jungkook showing a specific emotion, and he would have to guess it later, that emotion was excitement.
Once Lana gave you the go, you ran toward the pretty man and hopped on him, wrapping your legs around him. He quickly caught you, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to hold one of your legs up, you both were so giggly, and everyone in the group could tell you were enjoying each other’s company. Namjoon was hugging Jihee but he wasn’t putting that much effort in it, he was watching you and Jungkook, and the stupid shit eating grin he had whilst you hugged. How badly he wanted to be the one you had your legs wrapped around, he was getting a little upset at how long you were hugging this newcomer for, considering everyone had stopped except for you two.
“We don’t have all day!” Namjoon remarked, his tone was bitter. You didn’t realize you had embraced Jungkook for so long, you had connected a lot during his first day, you talked until the high hours of the night, so you felt good with him, it was easy. You let go and walked back, whispering I’m sorry’s to the group for the hold up. “The next stage is soul gazing, you will stare at your partner in silence, it encourages you to see and connect with your partner on a deeper emotional level,” Lana said.
The silence of everyone was quite comfortable, and watching Jungkook you felt such warmth and kindness emanating from him, and you also saw him tear up a bit. “You have a beautiful soul Ynie,” he admitted, and like the Grinch, you felt your heart grow three sizes from those words. Namjoon, however, was seething, who the hell is guy anyway, why is he making you swoon all the sudden? It was bullshit, absolute bullshit. After the workshop was finally over, Lana announced the winner, you.
“Yn, who do you choose to go on this date with,” the little cone asked, and everyone’s eyes were on you. The expectations were skewed, some were expecting you to pick Namjoon, and some were expecting you to pick Jungkook based on the past two days alone.
“Jungkook,” he had the prettiest smile, “wanna go on this date with me?”
“Yes!” He was very enthusiastic, giving you a quick side hug, the girls rushed to your side to help you get ready.
Namjoon was with the guys as they all watched Jungkook getting ready, he wasn’t very excited about the prospect of you going on a date with someone, he wanted you all for himself to enjoy and he couldn’t have that if you went with Jungkook. He heard Jimin giggling, noticing he’d been staring at him this whole time. “What?”
“Good thing you don’t have laser vision, poor Jungkookie would be dead if you did,” he continued to chuckle.
“I’m not even looking at him.”
“Give me a fucking break hyung, it’s obvious you are jealous of the guy, I mean just today’s workshop alone shows that,” Jimin explained, “if you like Yn you should shoot your shot.”
Did Namjoon like you? I mean he was definitely not repulsed by you, you were a smart, pretty girl. But how would he know you wouldn't use him? Sure you didn't seem like you would but what about when you were out in the real world?
“I'll be back,” Jungkook had a big grin on his face, “wish me luck!”
As Namjoon watched the youngest out of the men walk out, he decided he would get dressed himself, and get his frustration out with the punching bag at their designated workout area. Watching as he met you at the door to the villa. You were wearing a simple gray summer dress and it complimented your skin tone beautifully.
Jungkook was a little confused on why Namjoon was so adamantly upset at him, but he couldn’t worry about him right now, not when he was so excited to see you. You were incredibly nice to him when he arrived, and your conversation had been so wonderful when he’d pulled you aside. You talked about so many things, where you were from, what you did for work, what your goals were.
“I’m a tattoo artist! I’ve drawn most of the pieces I’ve gotten done,” he took off the shirt he was wearing, the white tank top underneath being the only thing keeping you from seeing his abs. His sleeve was beautiful, so incredibly colorful and full of life, he explained most of his tattoos, including the ones that were meant as cover-ups for others. Your eyes got lost in the way his muscles flexed as they trailed up his arm, eventually your gaze ended up meeting his.
He had stars in his eyes, and his smile seemed so incredibly genuine, he cocked his head to the side as he stared at you, “can I ask you something?” you nodded, “do you and Namjoon hyung have something going on? I don’t want to move forward with pursuing you if you are not available,” the question left you a bit stunned and you thought it through before deciding to trust Jungkook with the truth.
“We’ve had some serious sexual tension since we got here,” you admitted, “no one knows this but we actually fucked on our second night here,” the pretty man in front of you deflated a bit, and then it seemed to hit him, “so, not even the weird cone thing knows?”
“I mean she probably knows now,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Anyway, after that we agreed not to tell anyone, and we started building a friendship, I started sort of catching feelings, and I thought he was too, he would do little nice things for me, and then say something mean after,” you sighed, “so I’m not sure about him as person.”
Jungkook was a great listener, he stayed quiet and gave you his undivided attention the entire time you were talking, and now he sat pensive, looking up at the stars as he tried to come up with something to tell you, “I think you are really cool, Yn, and I think you deserve someone who will want you in every way, not just because you’re stunning” you blushed slightly at his words, “I would love to get to know you better and explore something with you, but if you want Namjoon that badly, then I don’t want to get hurt, going after girls who are emotionally unavailable or attached to someone else is exactly why I’ve become a man whore.”
You were shocked at his candor and honesty, but it endeared you to him and made you envy him. Why couldn’t you have your shit together? Why were your boundaries so unclear? Worst of all, a pretty guy who had treated you with nothing but respect wanted you… but your feelings for Namjoon were more, from the small coffee offering to conversations he would have with you about books you both had read, to deep conversations about each other’s life.
“You are a good person Jungkook.”
“But I’m not the kind of person you want.” You gave him a saddened smile, “I’m fine with being your friend Ynie, you are a good person too, and in time Namjoon will realize it too,” the night continued on with so much laughter, Jungkook felt like a long lost friend, and you were happy that life had brought him to you.
Namjoon was not happy. The people in the villa watched as he beat the absolute shit out of the punching bag in front of him, his jaw was clenched, and his mind was playing all the possibilities of what may happen on your date with Jungkook.
Did you do any of the things you'd done with him? Did you kiss him? Did you like him? Will you come back with a stronger connection and leave him to rot?
If you did he wouldn't blame you, he deserves every one of those things, especially after the way he'd treated you, all hot and cold. It truly isn't his fault, so many strings of wrong relationships, with the last one being a constant cycle of toxicity and gaslighting, which Namjoon can now admit he was a part of. Him and his last partner weren't good for each other, but they loved each other so intensely they didn't want to let go.
Love hard, hurt harder, you know?
He heard your unmistakable laughter along with his, and he started punching his bag harder. How long had he been standing here punching this poor bag? He didn't care, currently he was imagining Jungkook’s head on a stake.
“Namjoon?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he turned his gaze toward, whilst still in a punching stance, “can we talk?” Namjoon straightened up at that. He kinda liked the way you were checking how sweaty his body was, he didn't like your sudden frown however.
“Your knuckles are bleeding.”
Were they? Surely he wasn't punching the bag that long that hard. But when he pulled up his hands to look at the damage he couldn't help but cackle.
“I guess they are.”
“Why don't you go take care of them and then we can talk, hmm?” You gave him a tight, close-lipped smile.
Fuck no.
There was no way he was letting you leave after you were the reason he'd been punching this bag, not when he'd spent the last however long wondering, overthinking, what you and Jungkook would possibly be doing. There was simply no way. It was almost a reflex the way his hand wrapped around your wrist, you barely had time to look at him before he pulled you away to a secluded corner of the villa, cornering you against the wall with both of his arms caging you in, droplets of sweat all over his body.
It was crazy, the way your body seemed to respond so quickly to him, he heard the small whimper, and saw how you put your legs together, and fuck sake the way you were looking at him was like you were begging him to…
He wanted to do this right though. He moved away slightly, giving you some space to breathe, “what'd you wanna talk about Yn?”
“My date with Jungkook went well,” okay maybe not what he was expecting.
“Good for you?”
“I think we'll be great friends, him and I,” Namjoon suddenly felt himself taking a deep breath of relief. “Really?” The space he'd given you was gone again.
He hoped you could see just how affected he also was by you, how his own dick was stirring, having your body so close, having you so close. You must’ve sat there staring at each other for a few minutes, Namjoon’s gaze going back and forth between your lips and your eyes, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do to you, with you. He leaned in slowly, your height difference making him bend down slightly, your eyes fluttered shut and he stopped just close enough that your noses were brushing together, you were so beautiful. Before you could ask him what was taking him so long he connected your lips in a delicious, passionate kiss, your tongues explored each other’s mouths and your hands held onto his shoulders.
Namjoon was the first to pull away, only to move his kisses down to your jaw and eventually your neck, causing you to let out little moans, they were the prettiest sound to Namjoon. He found himself reaching for the shorts you had worn under your gray dress, “may I take these off?” he asked, his eyes hooded and filled with want, all you could do was let out a pathetically high-pitched ‘yes’. He hooked his thumbs at the waistband, dragging your underwear down with it, he watched them pool at your feet and then knelt down, “is this okay?” you felt his breath against your center, making you squirm slightly.
“Yes.”
He dove right in, licking the length of your slit, groaning at how aroused you were and he had barely done anything to you. He moved on to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking gently, causing your moans to become slightly louder, “you gotta keep quiet for me baby,” he instructed you when he briefly pulled away to catch his breath, the sight of the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness making you almost want to orgasm right then. He started eating you out again, this time adding his fingers to the mix, and you had to cover your mouth to make sure your moans wouldn’t be heard all over the villa. You felt yourself closer and closer to your climax and Namjoon could too, your walls squeezed his fingers tightly almost as if wanting to keep them prisoner, and he wanted nothing more than to replace them with his cock, especially because it was so painfully hard. You wanted that too, you wanted nothing more than for this to go all the way, but you felt that in order for what you wanted to work, things had to be different.
“Namjoon, stop” he immediately moved away from you, gently removing his fingers. You took a moment to catch your breath, as he slowly pulled up your shorts and underwear and fixed your dress for you, “did I hurt you?” he asked, holding your hips, looking genuinely concerned at your sudden request. He had an almost boyish charm when this side of him was shown to you, so sweet, so gentleman-like, why would he not be like this always?
“No, I just,” you sighed, putting your hands on his chest, “I like you Namjoon, I would like for us to try and get to know each other, for us to get the chance to see if this could go anywhere, but I’m not sure if that’s what you want, and I need to know, because I don’t want to be pining for someone that just wants me for sex.”
Your confession surprised him, he hadn’t thought that all your conversations and your sexual tension would lead to anything more than maybe a friends with benefits kind of situation. However, considering how he's been reacting to the possibility of you and Jungkook together, maybe he did want to explore more.
“I'd love to get to know you more Ynie,” he flashed his dimpled smile at you, and you felt your heart fluttering. Jumping into his arms for a hug in which Namjoon made sure to hold you extra tight. Maybe this was the beginning of his healing.
(Day 27)
The rest of the stay at the villa was great for you two, Namjoon was so very thoughtful, he made you fresh coffee every morning, and you guys had a reading date every afternoon, where you shared the big love seat by the pool, laying back on his chest as he held whatever book you were reading in front of both of you.
People weren't too happy once Lana deducted the money for your offense after your date with Jungkook, and they were even more distraught when they found out what shenanigans you'd been up to on your second night there, you had lost them so much money the price money was down to forty-five thousand dollars. Jihee almost jumped you, thankfully Jungkook was there to hold her back. Speaking of, you ended up having another girl show up, a sweet blonde named Maddie who immediately caught Jungkook’s attention. It was great seeing your friend happy. You guys would have chats by the pool when you got a chance and update each other on the happenings of your relationships.
Lana had also been a bit more liberal by giving you all bracelets, when they lit up you’d be allowed to kiss the other person, this would only happen if your emotional connection had been proven to strong and genuine.
Although you and Namjoon were still very much in the eyes of everyone, “getting to know each other,” that would all change three days before you left the villa. You honestly had no clue when he had the time, but when Lana announced you were going on a date with Namjoon, everyone seemed to be beaming at the idea. He told you to dress nice. So you opted for a two-piece white set, with a loose halter top, white loose shorts, and wedges. Turns out you were going on a boat ride.
“Oh my god Joon,” you beamed as he helped you sit down at the front of the boat, where an assortment of sushi was waiting for you. You sailed along, enjoying the sun on your skin, and the beautiful man that kept feeding you sushi, especially since even if he tried to show you how to use chopsticks you still couldn’t keep the sushi in your grasp for long. You talked some more about life, and you ended up opening up to one another.
“My last relationship was like, three years ago,” he started, “she basically only wanted me for my money, but I didn’t really notice, I just wanted to love and be loved, and I thought that I was being good, I spoiled her, gave her everything and she still cheated on me, so I swore off relationships and became a man-whore,” he chuckled bitterly. “My last relationship was four years ago, it was very toxic, he basically made me feel bad for not always wanting to be on his dick, or because I spent time with my friends and not him, he went around telling everyone our business but always left out how awful he was to me.” You had been staring at the horizon, the sun slowly setting bringing golden hour to you.
“Eventually when we broke up, he tried getting back together with me, and when I said no, he started shit-talking my friends and myself, and all I could do was watch as they got tired of dealing with me and my drama, so now I only had my sister to rely on,” you felt Namjoon’s hand on your cheek, he watched with sorrowful expression, “you were crying.”
“I swore off relationships after that too, I have never felt more alone than during that time, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.”
“I know at first I didn’t do the best job at not making you feel that way, but I hope I can help you feel less lonely,” Namjoon said, still caressing your cheeks, you felt your wrist vibrate, seeing the big green checkmark on your watch, Namjoon had the same. You were ready to lean in to kiss him, but he stopped you.
“Before we kiss,” he started, “getting to know you has been amazing, I find myself learning some much about myself and slowly coming back to who I was before all the bullshit. I want us to be real, I want to go back to the real world and make it work with you, would you be my girlfriend Ynie?” Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling, you never really thought of yourself getting back into a relationship, you had sworn you were too damaged for something like that, but maybe this was the start to your healing. “I want to make it work in the real world too, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” his dimpled smile gave you butterflies, and as his other hand reached your cheek to fully cup your face, he closed the space between you with a kiss that had been different from the ones before, the others were hungry, desperate, and horny, this one was slow, passionate, and breath-taking. You felt your wrist vibrate again, making you pull away much to your dismay.
“I’m excited for the outside world together,” his gaze was sweet and soft, something you had never seen. He laid back, opening his arms up so you could cuddle.
“Me too,” you smiled, quickly moving your picnic stuff out of the way and scooting over, you laid your head on his chest, you heard his heart beating so fast and so loud, “your heart is about to beat out of your chest,” you giggled.
“I was so fucking nervous,” you looked up at him, “but I am happy I think, hopefully we’ll make it through.”
Fingers crossed.
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Where Is It?
Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N gets tired of Logan asking where things are
Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: Inspired by a scene from The King of Queens, this is my first Logan Sargeant Fanfic
Logan has been dating his girlfriend, Y/N, since his Formula 2 days, he has been living with Y/N since he started Formula 1, moved into her apartment, and yet Logan keeps asking where things are. At first it was fine but it started getting out of hand.
1st Week Living Together
Logan wanted to make Y/N breakfast but he didn't know where anything was. He didn't want to mess anything up so he went into the living room.
"Baby, where's the waffle iron?" Logan asked. Y/N looked at him
"Oh, it's in the pantry, here." Y/N got off the couch, walked into the kitchen, and opened the pantry. "So i keep the pancake mix on this shelf next to the syrup, the waffle iron is in this drawer along the base of the blenders if you wanted to make yourself a smoothie. The blenders should be on this shelf, okay." Y/N said, pointing to everything, showing Logan where everything was.
"Okay, thank you, breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." Logan said.
"Aw, thank you, mi principe." Y/N said, kissing his cheek.
2nd Week
Logan was tryng to open a package but he couldn't find scissors.
"Honey, where are the scissors?" Logan shouted from the living room.
"Check the cupboard in the living room! should be in the drawer next to my sewing machine!" Y/N yelled from their bedroom.
"Thank you!" Logan shouted when he found them and opened his package.
6 Months
Logan came back from his morning run (I’m guessing) and he wanted to make a smoothie. He took a quick shower and entered the kitchen where he slaw Y/N making herself eggs. Logan kissed her and started pulling out the protein powder, frozen fruits, milk, but he was missing something.
“Babe, where’s the blender?” Logan asked, Y/N flipped her egg, and turned around to look at Logan.
“Where do you think it is, principe?” Y/N asked.
“I have no idea, that’s why I’m asking you.” Logan said, Y/N rolled her eyes and pulled it out for him. “Here you go.” Y/N said, going back to the stove to serve the egg on her plate.
Present Day
Y/N was in the dining room, using the table to make a custom corset that someone ordered from her. When she finished pinning the pattern to the fabric, she got out her fabric scissors to cut it when Logan came in.
“Honey, where are the…? Oh, can I use the scissors when you’re done?” Logan asked.
“No! These are my fabric scissors, use the other ones.” Y/N said.
“That’s what I came here for, to ask you where the scissors are.” Logan said and Y/N just stared at him incredulously.
“No puede ser, we have been living together for 1 and a half and you still don’t know where the scissors are?” Y/N asked. Logan shook his head. “The scissors are in the same place they have always been, I have never moved it once, and yet you keep asking me where they are. Not to mention the blender, the waffle iron, the pens, your keys. I’ll tell you what, cariño, I have been a tour guide in my own apartment long enough. Too many precious moments have been wasted showing you where things are, just learn! Learn! Or at least actually look for them before you ask me. I mean, what if I was on vacation? How would you make your protein smoothies? How would you make waffles? How you cut anything ever again? Would you just sit here weeping and soiling yourself until somebody came in to help you. No you wouldn’t, you would *gasp* remember where something is. Now, just this once, find where the scissors are, come on, I know you can do it, you’re a smart boy, Amor.”
“I’m not a golden retriever, Y/N.” Logan said.
“TikTok disagrees. Now again, where are the scissors?” Y/N said. Logan stopped for a second, trying to remember where Y/N said they were before. He walked into the living room and Y/N followed behind him observing. “Well, you’re on the right room” Logan nodded, he was off to a great start. He walked to the cupboard and opened a drawer.
“I got ‘em.” Logan said, showing Y/N the scissors.
“You got ‘em. That wasn’t so hard, right, mi vida?” Y/N asked him.
“Not really, no.” Logan responded.
“Good boy.” Y/N walked into the dining room to cut the fabric and Logan followed her. As Y/N was cutting the fabric, she felt Logan staring at her. “What do you need now, Logan?”
“Tape.” Logan responded,
“Oh que la…” Y/N said rubbing her temples. “Just look for them.” Y/N responded as calmly as she can. Logan left and she continues to cut the fabric. When he finished cutting out the pieces, Logan came back with tape in his hands. “Finally!”
“I’m sorry that I keep asking you where things are.” Logan said.
“I accept your apology. Now leave me alone for the next few hours, I gotta sew this together.” Y/N said,
“You got it.” Logan said, kissing Y/N before going to their bedroom.
The End
Hope y’all liked it, let me know if you want more! @r0nnsblog @charli123456789
#hispanic reader#latina#hispanic#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant#logan sargeant fluff#logan sargeant imagine#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic
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Proud IV
Hardersson x Teen!Reader
Summary: The night after the derby
The light from the tv was still on when you crept down the stairs.
You woke to the pain in your ankle and rolled around your bed in agony. You briefly considered just laying there, sucking it up and trying to go back to sleep but in the end, the pain was just too intense and you surrendered to getting painkillers.
As you hobbled down the stairs, you inwardly cursed yourself for not grabbing any before going to bed. Your Momma had insisted on you putting some on your bedside table but you had been adamant that you would be okay.
As usual, you wished you had listened to her as you hopped down the stairs as quietly as you could.
You ducked into the kitchen, immediately rummaging through the medicine cabinet for some painkillers. You grabbed them but squinted trying to look at the dosage.
You didn't want to turn on the light.
Momma was a light sleeper. Even light coming up the stairs from the kitchen could wake her and you knew if she woke up then she would fuss over you and you didn't want that.
You could see a sliver of light from the living room though and you suddenly remembered that Morsa had been exiled there for the night because of your injury.
You assumed she was still awake and wouldn't mind company so you hobbled towards her.
She was still awake, like you predicted, lying on her side on the sofa.
The light you had seen earlier was the light from her phone, pressed up close to her face as she browsed social media.
She looked up though when you came hobbling in. She sat up.
"Hey," Magda said," Are you okay? Is something wrong?"
You lifted the pack of painkillers up. "Needed to check the right dosage." You threw them at her.
"Two," She replied, catching it easily and checking the packaging," And then no more for four hours."
"How long until they kick in?" You dry swallowed them.
"Half an hour or so. Are you staying here until they work?"
You nodded, falling easily back onto the sofa next to her.
Magda adjusted, throwing the blanket she was using over you as well and forcing you to prop your foot up on the table with her pillow.
"Comfortable?" You asked wryly and she rolled her eyes.
"I think Pernille made us buy this sofa just so I don't get a goodnight sleep when she's annoyed at me."
You grinned, slowly forgetting about the pain in your foot. "Why tell you how pissed she is when she can just show you?"
"I hope you don't get her vindictive streak," Magda joked," Sometimes she's just plain mean."
"And yet you're still with her."
Magda shrugged. "Maybe I like her like that."
Your nose wrinkled up in disgust. "That's disgusting."
She winked at you. "You'll understand one day."
A pit formed in your stomach and words spilled from your mouth before you could stop yourself. "I don't think I actually will."
"What does that mean?"
Magda shrieked at Pernille's voice, nearly falling off the sofa as her head whipped around to see Pernille leaning against the doorframe. Thankfully though, Pernille didn't lay into her for keeping you up (though Magda knew that lecture was coming soon) because she was focussed on you, brows furrowed in confusion.
You shrugged as Pernille moved to sit opposite you in the armchair.
"I just...I don't really think I'll ever get it. Sex isn't..." You made a vague gesture with your hands that only served to confuse your mothers further.
Magda cleared her throat. "So," She said," Sex is when-"
"I know what sex is!" You cut her off quickly," I just...I don't like it."
"It's okay," Pernille said," You're still young. You don't need to rush into anything and-"
"No!" You felt the urge to tear your hair out. "You're not getting it. I..." You took a moment to collect your thoughts. "I don't want to have sex. Ever. It's not a thing for me."
There was silent for a moment before Magda spoke.
"Well," She said," At least we won't have to worry about you getting pregnant."
"Magda!"
Pernille looked scandalised at her words but a bubble of laughter erupted from your throat and you decided to get everything off your chest.
"And I'm not into dating either. I don't get romantic feelings for people." To soften the blow, you added. "Oh, and I'm planning on moving to Greece, changing my name and becoming a shepherd."
Silence again.
"Will you name a sheep after me?"
"Magda!" Pernille snapped again," No, you will not be getting a sheep named after you!"
You continued to laugh, feeling something settle in your chest at the way Morsa began to list all the benefits of having sheep-Magda in the house with her.
"I'm going to bed," You said.
You left without much fanfare after that, knowing that when you came down in the morning that your mums will be curled up on that sofa together, still fast asleep.
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞!
you’re abby’s favorite bartender at her favorite dive bar. she doesn’t take to kindly to people disrespecting her best girl.
warnings: alcohol is mentioned + slight violence
click for palestine! read before engaging with my acc+work
Abby is a regular at your bar. Well, regular is a kind way to put it. At this point, she lives in the dive bar. She’s head over heels for you but has decided obnoxious flirting every happy hour, and a sliver of your attention will suffice.
Her routine is simple:
Order a beer. From her favorite bartender of course. If anyone offers to serve her it’s deny, deny, deny. She can only accept alcoholic content from her best girl.
Shoot some darts, play some pool, chugging contest. Blah, blah, blah. It’s only fun if she sees you sneaking glances from your station, shooting you a wink while she engages with her team. She likes seeing how flustered she can get you with a thin-lipped smile and wink alone. And the answer is very flustered.
Once she’s seen you steal enough glances, it’s time to go back to the bar and bother you. Sure, order another drink. But, also, flirt with the gorgeous girl serving her. Is that a new shirt? Your hair looks so pretty tonight. She loves the necklace you’re wearing, situated real well between your tits.
Then stay on the barstool, all night, up until she’s one of the last patrons in the bar. Even though, she’s gotta be up running drills quite soon after your shift ends. But it’s worth it. If she can make you laugh at least once.
Every time. Without fail. That’s Abby’s routine, and tonight was no different.
Well, except for the fact that there was some asshole bothering you while you worked. Doesn’t he know that’s her job? Only she can bother you, she’s the only one who does it right. Besides, you looked annoyed while he was talking to you. You never looked annoyed when Abby flirted. Always brushing your fingers on her bicep, giggling as she flexed, giving her a hard time for flinching after a shot. You relished in her attention even. You looked like you wanted to throw up while this guy was talking to you. Abby personally, wants to throw him a punch. Instead, she rolls her eyes and fiddles with the toothpick between her teeth, before calling you over to her. The night’s still early, maybe he’ll back off. She hasn't gotten her slice of your attention yet, so she refuses to let that be cut short.
“Hey, princess!” She uses a hand motion towards you. Your face lights up as you walk towards her freckled face. You hadn't spoken many words to her all night. It was a relief to see the pilot in her designated stool.
You throw your towel over your shoulder and place your hands on your hips. “How can I help you, Captain Anderson?” Your tongue pokes between your lips, a coy smile protruding.
Abby rolls her eyes. “I hate when you call me that.” She sighs playfully, “I only let my favorite bartenders call me Abby y’know.”
You place your hand over your heart, flinching, “Silly me thinking I was the only one.”
Abby whistles lowly at you. “None of them are half as pretty as you, baby.” She watches as you turn your head to the side shyly. She’s already got you flustered and the night’s just begun. She hasn’t even started throwing darts and flexing muscles with her squad yet.
It’s your turn to roll your eyes now. “Promise?” you flirt shamelessly, curious as to what she’ll say.
“Scout’s honor princess,” she kisses three of her fingers and holds them up.
You laugh at her actions. Only Abby can have you laughing at work. In a sticky bar, tight shirt, and light hangover still cascading over you. “Okay, Abby,” You say her name sickeningly sweet. She almost bends over to her knees. “What can I get you tonight?” She smiles, tapping the paper coaster on the countertop, pretending to think. “I’m gonna go with the usual tonight babe.”
You smile, “Boring but expected.” You go to grab a glass and fill it up with ice as a deep baritone fills your ears. “Princess,” the man calls. This new customer was evidently, not privy to the unspoken rules of the bar. He winks at Abby expecting some comradery from a nickname alone. As if friendships are built off disrespecting women.
You cringe at the nickname and don’t reply. Your legs only move to that call when it’s your favorite captain calling you.
“Oh c’mon don’t be that way.” The man continues. “What? You want a different nickname?” Abby’s jaw is clenched so tightly, that she's sure her molars have cracked. She’s clenching her fist to the point that the white of her knuckles is apparent.
“She doesn’t respond to that,” Abby replies to the asshole. “She’s got a name.” This man is new sure, but definitely an idiot. He’s choosing to continue squaring off with the Abby Anderson. You know better. You wouldn't disrespect her even with all the alcohol in the world flooding your system. You’ve seen her in a bar fight. She’s never lost.
“What is this your girlfriend?” He laughs drunkenly. “I mean I’m into that sort of thing,” he snorts to himself. “Why don’t you give us all a little kiss?” He continues chuckling like he’s some world-class comedian. Though, Abby doesn’t seem to find him funny.
She runs her hand over her face. She looks at you for a moment. “Princess,” she leans in whispering, “How many bar fights in me until you said I was banned?”
You lean closer to her, whispering back, “I don’t think I’m allowed to ban the champ.” Smiling cheekily at her. She winks and clicks her tongue. That’s all she needs as reassurance to kick this guy’s ass.
She gets up from the stool, walking closer to him. Though Abby oozes dominance, when she’s standing over you it’s hard not to shit your pants. She places her hands square atop this guy’s shoulders. “I’m gonna give you just one chance to apologize to my pretty girl or else you’re gonna be banned.”
The man brandishes off a drunk grin that’s missing two front teeth. “Ban? Me? Ban me? Nah.”
Abby rolls her eyes, “So that’s a no?” She doesn’t even give the guy a chance to answer before punching him straight in the jaw. “See someone else has had the common sense to knock two teeth from that ugly mug of yours, what’s a few more?” She mutters to herself. There’s slight commotion, but it dies down quickly with the rest of Abby’s aviator squad coming quickly behind her. Beers still in hand, foam coating a few mustaches they ask her what happened. She wrings out her hand, “Go take his picture for the wall of shame and dump him outside.” She huffs, watching her lieutenants follow her orders.
Abby comes to sit by you in her same old worn-down barstool. She smiles as you give her a bag of ice for her hand. “What number fight is that?” You ask her softly and playfully.
“For you or in this bar?” She’s got that look in her eye, nothing but trouble.
You roll your eyes, “Don’t answer a question with a question.” You being to make the drink you never got to give the dirty blonde.
“You’re bossy tonight,” she muses, accepting the drink once you hand it to her, chugging quickly. “Fighting makes me thirsty she muses.”
You repress a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “So Captain,” you drag out the tightly slightly. Watching as Abby raises her eyebrow at you.
“Princess,” she replies with an edge to her voice.
“When’re you gonna bite the bullet and ask me out? Hasn’t total endless flirting with me gotten boring?” You lean against the bar top, cleavage spilling from your low-cut top.
“How about now?” Abby works hard to make sure her eyes don’t come to your spillage. She works overtime in doing so even. It’s torturous.
You hum, “Beating up drinkies doesn’t count as a date you know?” You smile at her, propping your face against your hand.
“Our first date wouldn’t be here,” she smiles toothily. “If that’s the case, we’ve had plenty of dates while I sat in this barstool. We’re married even.” She grins at you.
Your tongue licks your lips, “Moving fast, aren’t you? Focus on the first date, Anderson.”
“Yeah get used to saying that last name, ‘cause it’ll be yours,” she clicks her tongue and winks at you. “How about I come to grab you this weekend? A nice dinner, me you, and no drunks up your ass.”
“Does this mean I’ll finally be seeing you out of that old navy uniform Anderson?” Your smile captivates your face as you tease her. Only you would make fun of her while she’s trying to ask you out.
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t go home on the first date.” She teases, laughing softly, ‘cause it’s far from true.
“Liar,” you call her out on her shit, carefully grasping the glinting dog tags that lay around her neck. You pull her in for a kiss, for a moment there’s cheering. You know it’s from her rowdy lieutenants. You smile against her lips and pull away. “I’ll see you this weekend?” You say looking at her loved face.
“Sure thing princess.” She’s stunned. “You know what? Put a round on my tab, for celebration.” She reaffirms.
“No doubt captain,” you smile mocking a salute.
divider by @aqualogia
#written by lina ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆#abby anderson drabble#natasha trace x reader#abby anderson x female reader#natasha trace x you#abby anderson fluff#abby x you#writing#writers on tumblr#tlou fanfiction#aviator!abby anderson x reader#aviator!abby anderson#aviator!abby#abby anderson x black!reader#black!reader#latina!reader#wlw fanfic#sapphic#top gun x reader#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson imagine#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson#abby angst#abby and ellie
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ COME BACK TO ME(PLEASE ) kim minji x reader
↳ warnings this takes place during ditto era, minji is down bad, 6th member reader
minji stood frozen, her gaze locked on the ethereal girl as she glided past without stopping. every movement seemed choreographed, every step a graceful dance. time seemed to slow as minji drank in the girl's beauty—a beauty so unique, it made minji question her own perception of the word beauty.
it was the kind of beauty that transcended mere physical appearance, captivating minji’s senses and leaving her speechless and then that specific feeling started creeping upon minji.
regret.
the feeling of realizing you messed up the best thing that could ever happen to you.
yeah, that’s what she was feeling right now.
"oh no, don't give me that look," minji turned to hanni, who shot her a scolding glance. "you broke up with her, bro. don’t act all heartbroken just because your ego got in the way."
minji’s shoulders sagged under Hanni's sharp gaze, her expression a mix of regret and frustration. "I know, I know," she muttered, “she’s just so pretty.”
minji couldn't fathom why their ceo thought it was a stroke of genius to add yn to the group after pitting her and yn against each other the entire time. It felt like a cruel joke, especially considering the rule of having only "five people" for debut for the group only to suddenly change course and introduce yn months after their debut dropped. the decision felt like a slap in the face.
like everything she did was for nothing, like letting yn go was for nothing, being an asshole was all for nothing.
“she is.” hanni responded with no remorse, not even flinching at minji’s glare, “and I don’t know what you were thinking.” she says rubbing salt into the wound causing minji to groan and throw her head back.
"I don't know what I was thinking either," minji whispered to herself, the weight of her own words echoing in the quiet of the room.
with a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from the couch, a weariness settling over her like a heavy blanket. "I'm gonna go lay down," she muttered as she trudged away, her steps heavy with the burden of her thoughts.
"don’t forget we're all meeting back in the living room in an hour to watch ditto drop!" hanni’s voice called after minji, her words giving a burst of energy that clashed with minji’s mood. but minji was already disappearing down the hallway, her groan serving as a half-hearted response to hanni’s reminder.
minji kept her gaze fixed on the floor as she made her way down the hall to her room, lost in her thoughts and oblivious to the figure approaching that makes their way down to opposite side of the hall with a bag of caramel popcorn in their hands, with a sudden collision, their bodies collided, eliciting a yelp from both parties involved.
startled , minji looked up, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes met yn’s. time seemed to stand still as they locked gazes, minji momentarily forgetting how to breathe in the presence of the girl.
while the girl stuffs an handful the popcorn she already had in her hand in her mouth while clutching the bag in her other.
minji observed yn’s awkward attempt to slowly chew the sweet popcorn, her mind racing faster than her mouth could keep up. "you're still obsessed with caramel popcorn?" she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips before she could fully process them.
yn’s eyes flicked up to meet minji’s, a hint of sheepishness coloring her expression as she swallowed the popcorn. "yeah," she admitted but immediately hardening up, “that doesn’t matter though, since nothing about me matters.” she responds quoting the older girls words causing minji to cringe.
“yn-“
"I really don't want to hear it," yn interjected quietly, cutting off minji’s attempt to speak. "you said what you had to say already," she added, her tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability before turning and walking down the hall.
minji hand instinctively reached out as if to stop her, but she hesitated, the weight of yn’s words settling heavily in her chest. With a resigned sigh, minji let her hand fall back to her side, watching silently as yn disappeared from view, the distance between them feeling wider than ever before.
she felt the weight in her chest get heavier as she turned around and headed to her room, being around yn has been so hard, the more she interacts with the girl the more she feels like she’s going to explode in tears.
minji lets herself sink into her bed and closes her eyes letting her guilty tears fall, she pulls her blanket over her and lets sleep slowly take over.
and just as she closes her eyes she opens them, when she feels an excited hyein open the door of the room, minji looks at the time, it’s been an hour since she fell asleep.
“minji unnie, get up!”the younger yells, “we have two minutes.” she says before running out the room
minji stares at the ceiling before letting out a sigh and dragging herself out of her bed, she makes her way out her room and she immediately here’s the loud noises of her members.
despite her reluctance, minji knew she couldn't stay holed up in her room forever. with a resigned sigh, she squared her shoulders and began to make her way towards the source of the commotion, steeling herself for whatever awaited her on the other side.
as soon as she walks into the living room she’s met with danielle’s of hurry’s.
minji can’t help but smile at the girls contagious excitement, but that smile immediately disappears when she sees that only spot open is the one beside yn who hasn’t looked up from her bowl of caramel popcorn since minji entered the room.
taking a deep breath to steel herself, minji forced a shaky smile and approached the couch, taking the seat beside yn.
the air between them felt charged with tension, a silent barrier that seemed to loom larger with each passing moment. despite her best efforts to ignore it, minji couldn't shake that feeling she got in her chest around yn.
she opened her mouth to whisper a greeting but was cut off by the greeting and of the other girls as the countdown started.
she played with her fingers as the screams got louder when the music video started, she couldn’t help but smile at the music video, especially the scenes where it was just her and yn, she remembers how nervous she was when the director told her that her and yn will have multiple parts alone together, the filming was so awkward but seeing how nice it tuned out made her warm inside.
feeling a gentle nudge, minji turned to look at yn, who had her eyes fixed on the music video playing on the screen. furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, minji followed yn’s gaze down to the bowl of caramel popcorn nestled between them.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of minji’s lips as she realized yn’s subtle invitation to share the snack.
minji reached out and scooped up a handful of the sweet and salty treat, the warmth of yn’s gesture washing over her like a comforting embrace.
as she popped a kernel into her mouth, minji couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope flicker within her, a silent reassurance that perhaps, despite the distance that had grown between them, there was still a chance for reconciliation.
once the music video finished all the girls got up, they all agreed to make cookies after watching the music video, minji watched as they made their way around the corner to the kitchen, their conversation buzzing about the music video.
hanni shot minji an encouraging look before nodding to yn who still at bedside minji with her face in her phone probably texting her family members about the music video, she then turned the corner and made her way to the kitchen like the rest of the girls.
minji swallowed nervously, the lump in her throat betraying the turmoil of emotions swirling within her. "Um, yn?" she began tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the din of the room.
yn finally tore her gaze away from the screen of her phone, turning to look at minji with a raised eyebrow, a silent question lingering in her eyes. the weight of their unspoken tension hung heavy in the air, casting a palpable unease over their interaction.
minji took a deep breath, summoning the courage to voice the words that had been weighing on her mind. "I... I just wanted to say... I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling with the raw vulnerability of her confession. "For everything."
"I... I don't know what I was thinking," minji continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "the pressure of debuting was just so high, and the fact that it was either me or you getting kicked out of the lineup made everything worse." She paused, her words hanging heavy in the air as she struggled to articulate the depth of her remorse.
"I let my fear and insecurity cloud my judgment," minji confessed, her gaze dropping to her hands as she fidgeted nervously with her fingers.
“But that's no excuse for how I treated you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm truly sorry for hurting you, I don’t even know how I even thought of hurting someone I love so much, I need you to know that ever since that day all I’ve wanted was you back.”
the weight of her confession hung between them, the silence stretching taut with the unspoken hope for forgiveness. minji heart pounded in her chest, her pulse echoing in her ears as she waited with bated breath for yn’s response.
"the pressure was pretty high, huh?" yn echoed softly, her tone tinged with a mixture of understanding and resignation. she sighed, her gaze flickering briefly to the bustling activity in the other room before returning to minji’s troubled expression.
"I get it," yn admitted, her voice carrying a weight of shared experience. "we were all under immense pressure, and it's easy to let it get the best of us." she reached out, laying a gentle hand on minji arm, a silent gesture of solidarity. "but that doesn't excuse what happened between us."
there was a quiet intensity in yn’s gaze as she locked eyes with minji, a silent plea for honesty and accountability. "I appreciate your apology," she said softly, her words carrying a note of sincerity. "but apologies alone won't mend what's broken.”
minji felt her chest sink and it was obvious that yn could see it in her eyes, “I do see us together minji I really do, but let’s do this slowly.”
minji nodded, her throat tight with unspoken words. despite the ache of longing that pulsed within her, she knew that yn was right. rebuilding what they once had would take time and patience, a delicate process that couldn't be rushed.
"Okay," minji murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand, I’ll do anything to fix this, I’m kinda obsessed with you.”
yn laughed and pressed a soft kiss to minji’s cheek, “yeah, it’s obvious.” obvious she teases before getting up from the couch and reaching out her hand towards minji, “lets go help with the cookies.”
minji couldn’t contain the smile that broke out on her face as she interlocked her hand with yn’s letting the girl drag her towards the kitchen.
she looks at yn and is completely mesmerized and just like always her mouth is faster than her mind, “you looked amazing in the music video, best way to make your official debut.”
“oh, shut up.”
#minji#kim minji#minji x reader#kim minji x reader#new jeans#new jeans x reader#minji new jeans#girl group imagines
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Line That Leads To You
Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.
Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!
You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.
The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.
Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.
“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.
“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.
“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)
“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.
Complete each other, huh?
Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.
Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.
That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.
Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.
He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.
“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”
“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.
Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.
You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.
“Reggie! Reggie!”
You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.
Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?
You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.
You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.
Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?
The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.
It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.
Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.
“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.
“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.
“What, Moons?”
“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?
“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.
“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.
Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”
Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”
Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “
“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.
“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”
James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”
“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.
The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.
Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.
Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’
Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”
“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”
Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.
“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.
You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.
Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”
And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.
Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.
#sirius black x reader#sirius x reader#marauders fanfiction#marauders era#soulmate au#sirius black#james potter#remus lupin#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#harry potter#angst with a happy ending#sirius orion black#regulus black
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