#because he wants to move on and establish himself as a new person and be SEEN as Himself and not have to shoulder dan feng's shit forever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sanjisblackasswife · 5 months ago

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𝕊𝕖𝕩 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞 (Geto and Gojo)

Ft. Geto and Gojo (Separate)

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

CW: TWT LINKS,Not just SEX, but making love, kissing, touching, oral, established relationships, Gojo is warning of himself, Dom(?)Reader

Bad Summary: My opinion, I try not to include any FANON versions of them either. I want them both bad what can I say.

Gojo

It’s hesitant yet, intense.

A man like Gojo isn’t an easy person to be vulnerable with, but Satoru is different .

He makes light jokes to mask his internal feelings.

“Touchy, huh? You must have wanted me soooo bad.”

However your touches on his arms make his breath Hasen.

He’s a flirt, but somehow you managed to catch him at his quietest when you rub your fingers against his undercut, kissing his earlobe so gently and light he almost thought he had on infinity.

Satoru doesn’t have sex consistently. He can’t even remember the last time he had a moment of pleasure like this, so he’s eager, but catches himself not able to move the way he wants since his body betrays him every-time you land your lips on his.

Sex with Satoru is unbearable in the best way. Probably a night you’ll never forget, due to his ability of being talented in every aspect you can think of. His tongue knows exactly where to land. He has a slight obsession over your little clit as well. Soft and cold pink lips capturing it to suckle. If you mask your own moans for a second you can hear his moans of approval and smacks against your lower lips to taste more of you.

His noises are pornographic. Shameless as he pushes your knees to hit your chest while his huge warm hands to cup under your ass and use his thumbs to spread your lips apart and push his mouth further inside you.

He has an oral fixation only you (and candy) can accommodate so sex with him can be relentless. He doesn’t apologize for it either, regardless of the “M’sorry, baby.” He tend to mutter against your panting mouth once you’ve came twice.

Sex with Satoru is needy and close. Satoru has an additive personality. If he likes something he wears it out completely. He doesn’t know when to quit. Overstimulating himself and you in the process, without a care in the world, because he always gets what he wants. And if you’re what he wants. He’s going to keep you under him until he can’t anymore. It’s all about you for him right now and he needs you to know that while he’s speaking to you in your ear

Sex with Satoru is funny. Once he gets comfortable enough he uses his slick mouth not just to make you cum, but you make you giggle and blush . A few jokes about how much of a mess he made on your new sheets because you tasted too good. How your tits shake so cutely when you’re orgasming. He is just so vulgar.

He praises you. Almost to the point you want to tell him to shut the fuck up but you can’t get yourself to do so because that moment where he moans out your name when you clench down on him, sounds like music to your ears. It’s rasped and dragged out. He is so loud you can barely hear the bed creaking below you both.

His eye contact is intense. Satoru can’t stop himself from looking at you, and he doesn’t wanna creep you out by saying look at me so he keeps his eyes on your mouth and eyes until you realize what he is non verbally asking for while he is on top and inside you.

His slow kisses are what gets you yearning for more. The way how silky slick and smooth his tongue collides with yours, make you whimper every once in a while, and the beautiful noises go straight to his dick (un)fortunately.

Sex with him ends with you both in the bath giggling and smacking on something sweet while he hand feeds you. You feel a few kisses on your forehead and a couple “Felt so good.” Under his breath. Hes stroking your ego without even realizing it.

Sex ends with you holding him. It kind of occurs when he places you on the bed (naked) and fake yawns to lay all over your body, saying he’s your blanket for the night.

You could complain but why would you? He looked finally at peace laid in between you breast.

Geto

Sex with Suguru is memorable and exciting.

He is so careful with his touches, he tends to laugh when you scoff to rush him to move faster, but it’s all apart of his plan to break you down (lovingly ofc)

Foreplay with Suguru isn’t just that night. It’s in the morning when he kisses you slow and caresses your ass against the kitchen counter before he heads out

It’s in the afternoon when he sends you post workout pictures with his pants DANGEROUSLY low to his hips.

It’s that evening when he cooks for you with sweats and his hair down just how you like. Licking his lips as you taste test the food he made on his finger.

Sex with Suguru is full of embarrassment. The man is very big. His cocky smirk looking down at you while he pinches your nipples. Pointing out how hard they’ve gotten after just kissing them.

Sex with Suguru is, overwhelming, his natural scent is intoxicating, his silky hair dragging all over your torso while he licks you down from your neck to your clit makes your spine shiver. He always manages to savor and take his time with you. Fingering you with straight eye contact and words of affirmation of how well you’re behaving for him before he sucks on your pussy.

Suguru knows what he’s doing, he knows what makes you needy, irritable, and even more horny to his liking and silly you, don’t even have a clue(?).

His whole body is so surprisingly soft and yet hard. His chest so squeezable that when you take the chance to actually suck his nipple he lets out the prettiest noise you ever heard. Who knew he was so sensitive there?

Sex with Suguru is messy. The spit, sweat, and cum sprayed all over your both. You don’t even bat an eye after he cums inside you just to go back down on you to taste himself between your legs. All you’re doing is admiring how pretty he is. Cheeks pink, eyes low lidded. You bite your lips when he catches you staring and winks at you while he holds your legs back

Kisses kisses and more kisses. All you need to do in the bed with Suguru is lay back, moan his name, and kiss him. Even if you’re breathless he will be the one to take the wind away from your lungs if needed be.

Sex with Suguru is reassuring.He doesn’t allow you to ever feel anything, but loved and secured that he only and ever wants you. Not just in sex, but his life. His purple eyes stare you lovingly when you cum for him. You’re the most beautiful being in the world and he’ll remind you of it every chance he gets.

Sex with Suguru is so teasing. Allowing all that pressure build up just for him to stop and wonder his attention to another part of your body. About to cum on his finger? Can’t. He wants to suck on your breast. About to cum on his dick? Well now he wants to slow down and give you a kiss knowing he can just do both. Little do you know he’s edging himself more than you.

After sex with Suguru is like a slip of the switch. Brushing ur hair back and telling you to match his breathing style to calm down.

“There you go baby just like that breathe in and out..good girl.”

After Sex with Suguru leads to more pleasure for you. He just can’t quit. He isn’t sorry for it either. Just lay on your belly and let him do what he calls “cleaning you up.

After sex with him is like being turned into a princess. A carry to the toilet while he wipes your face with a cool damp towel. You don’t need to lift a finger and if you don’t tell him no already he’d wipe your ass for you.

After a shared shower He holds you in bed while giving your back a small rub. You feels so safe in his large arms. Hearing his heart beat in your ear was its own white noise that lead you to fall asleep. And you can, because he isn’t going anywhere in the morning.

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dalishious · 7 months ago

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Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Familiar Faces and Factions

The trailer for Dragon Age: The Veilguard has dropped, and I couldn’t be more excited. It’s like a new breath of life has entered my lungs!

Within the trailer, we now have confirmation of who our seven companions are going to be, and among them are a few familiar faces from the book Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights. We also have some name-droppings of a couple factions featured in the same book and the comics, Dragon Age: The Missing. So, here is what knowledge is established about these faces sand factions.

Neve Gallus & The Shadow Dragons

Neve Gallus was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Streets of Minrathous”. She comes off as a no-nonsense and a little intense kind of person. Neve is a Tevinter mage who works as a private investigator. For example, if someone wants some detective work done but doesn’t want the public to know, they would hire Neve. On occasion, she’s even been hired by the templars, who act like just regular cops in Tevinter – and yes, that includes their corruption and primary goal of simply protecting the elite – but Neve prefers to work alone because of that corruption, and has a personal grudge against the order for taking bribes to cover up crimes.

Neve has a prosthetic leg below the knee, made of dwarven-crafted metal.

In The Missing, Neve says she is friends with the Shadow Dragons. In the article shared by EA, as of The Veilguard, she is officially a member. The Shadow Dragons are a group of concerned Tevinter citizens who help those in need. This includes supporting escaped slaves, for example.

Emmrich Volkahrin

Emmrich Volkahrin was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “Down Among the Dead Men”. He is a necromancer from Nevarra, and therefore naturally a member of the Mortalitasi – specifically, a professor in the Mourn Watch. The Watchers serve as elite guardians of the Grand Necropolis. Emmrich is on the eccentric side, personality-wise, but kindly and informal.

Emmrich has a skeleton assistant name of Manfred, who helps him with different office tasks. He also has friends in Myrna, a fellow Watcher, and Audric, a dead guardsmen who looks after the library.

Lucanis Dellamorte

Lucanis Dellamorte was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Wigmaker Job”. He is the favourite grandson of Caterina Dellamorte, First Talon (leader) of the Antivan Crows. As such, he was raised from birth to be the perfect assassin in a ruthless and torturous environment, knowing only cruelty from his family. This has led to him feeling less like a person and more like a living weapon – and he is treated like one by everyone who knows of him. He has “the Demon” as a nickname.

I know a few people are curious about the “mage killer” title in the trailer. Rest assured that Lucanis specifically kills evil blood mages. In his own words: “If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I’m not going to complain.”

Where his cousin Illario has a “silver tongue” as Lucanis puts it, he himself is a lot blunter. His reputation of a killer is spotless, except for one small problem: He has a heart under all that black leather.

Lucanis and Illario get along quite well, except for the fact that Lucanis is destined to be the next First Talon, after Caterina dies. Illario wants the job far more than Lucanis, but Lucanis isn’t sure he’s capable of making a decision for himself that goes against the wishes of the Crows.

The Veil Jumpers

The Veil Jumpers were first introduced in The Missing #3. They are a group made up of primarily Dalish elves, though also inclusive of other folks of any walks of life willing to help, working to try and control the new threats within Arlathan Forest. The forest has become a ground of chaotic magic, with the Veil so thin that time and place is jumbled together. Thus, the Veil Jumpers move in and out of the spots that bleed into one another.

The Veil Jumpers do have a headquarters called “The Sanctum”, but we know nothing else about it.

The Lords of Fortune

Despite the Lords of Fortune being mentioned in more than one Tevinter Nights story, as well as the show Dragon Age: Absolution, we don’t know a lot about them. The only concrete information provided is that they are a loose group of people who collect trinkets and glory. They come out of Rivain. They typically wear a lot of their collected trinkets like badges of honour. That’s really all there is, so I can’t wait to learn more.

#dragon age #datv #dav #dragon age the veilguard #neve gallus #emmrich volkahrin #lucanis dellamorte #meta

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crescenthistory · 3 months ago

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#11 "i want to see you" with Regulus pretty please?

well, when you ask so nicely, of course babe<3

Prompt: E.11 "I want to see you"

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: not proofread, implied smut (mdni), foreplay, heavy makeout, implied trauma and mental health issues on reggie's part, creating a safe space during sexy times, established but new relationship

Note: this man is not okay and i want to personally rectify that. don't know how i feel about this one, but it's something!

The curtains in Regulus’ dorm are drawn, bathing the room in a soft glow from the lantern on the bedside table. You have been spending more nights here than in your own bed the past few weeks, your lives being tangled more and more, and the thought of it all tasted sweet. Each night, you fall into this rhythm, this back-and-forth dance of give and take, of pushing and pulling, daring the other to take it another step.

His hands are at your waist as you straddle his lap where he sits against the headboard of his bed, fingers tracing absent-minded patterns across your skin. Your shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving you half-exposed, while Regulus is still fully dressed, save for his tie, which is deliciously loosened. The knot hangs precariously around his neck, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, revealing the pale skin beneath. His chest is heaving and his heart erratic beneath your palm.

His lips meet yours again, soft at first, like he is testing the waters, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, the barely restrained control he is trying so hard to maintain. It’s intoxicating, the way he holds himself back, but you want more. You need more.

You deepen the kiss and feel him melt slightly into you as your fingers tangle into his dark curls, pulling him impossibly closer.

When you break the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, breaths mingling. His hands still linger at your waist.

“Regulus,” you murmur, voice low and edged with something unspoken, "I want to see you.”

His brow furrows slightly, lips parting as if he’s about to speak, but nothing comes out. You bring a hand to his face, thumb brushing over his cheek, his jawline tense beneath your touch. You know he understands, even if he doesn’t want to.

“I understand why you're scared,” you repeat, voice softer but no less insistent. Your fingers move to the knot of his tie, slowly pulling it loose, and you feel his breath stutter against your skin. “But I care for you. I will take care of you, I just want to see you. All of you.”

You mean the words in every possible way. You want to see him — vulnerable, bare, unguarded. Not just physically, you want him to let go, to stop hiding from you, from himself.

His eyes flicker to yours, wide and uncertain, but you can see the desire, the passion, burning in them. A spark that matches the fire simmering inside you. His hesitation makes your heart ache, because you know why he feels the way he is, why he is wired like this, how much he fears losing control, of unravelling in front of you. But you also know how much he wants this — how much he wants you.

Your hands move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, your movements slow, deliberate. You give him ample time to stop you, tell you he's too scared, but he just watches you, hunger slowly overtaking his uncertainty. You can still feel the tension radiating from him, the way his breath comes faster with each button undone, as if he's teetering on the edge of something he can’t quite name.

“Let me in,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his collarbone as you push the fabric of his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. “I want to see you fall apart.”

He exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath for years. His hands move from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as his lips crash into yours again, more desperate this time, more raw. You can feel the shift, the way his restraint is slipping, the way he is starting to let go.

You’re pressed against him now, your bare skin against the warmth of his chest, the last of his barriers crumbling as you move together. His kisses grow hungrier, his hands rougher as they trace the curve of your spine, the dip of your waist. He groans into your mouth, and the sound sends heat pooling low in your belly.

"I need you," he whispers against your lips. "Just you."

Your hands explore his chest, fingers swirling over his nipples, smiling when he jerks into your touch at the sensation. You let your nails lightly scratch over his stomach, moving slower as you caress his happy trail and eventually the waistband of his trousers. He is receptive to your touch, finally making the occasional sound of enjoyment as he uses his tongue more surely, more passionately. The controlled Regulus Black allows himself to be more sloppy, more desperate, and the mere thought that it's all for you excites you more than anything.

A teasing finger slips beneath the edge of fabric, pulling slightly at it as you push yourself further into him. You feel him tense slightly against you again, though this time it's not from hesitation — it’s from the sheer intensity of everything he’s feeling. He’s right there, on the cusp of losing himself in you, and it’s driving him equally as mad.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your free hand caressing his jaw and neck, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “Reggie,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to be closed off with me. I’m right here.”

"You are," he repeats, eyes holding yours intensely, the weight of your words sinking in. You see the war dying inside him — the battle between wanting to keep his walls up and the overwhelming desire to tear them all down for you. One of his hands moves to your thigh while the other holds your back as he lifts you up from his lap to place you on the mattress behind you. You gasp and he smiles, devilishly and beautifully, before kissing you deep.

“Merlin,” he groans against you, his voice low and wrecked, lips trailing down your neck. His teeth graze your skin in a way that has you arching into him and he meets you in turn. He is starting to unravel under your touch, piece by piece, and it’s the most intoxicating thing you have ever seen.

You feel his hands at the clasp of your bra, his fingers only shaking ever so slightly as he undoes it. There is something vulnerable in the way he moves even now, like he is baring himself just as much as you are. When your bra falls away, his breath catches, and for a moment, all he can do is stare at you, his gaze reverent, like he can’t believe you are real.

“So beautiful, so, so gorgeous,” he whispers, already moving down to kiss across your chest with an open mouth, voice rough with need. His hands tremble as they slide up your sides, kneading the flesh, and you can feel how close he is to losing control, but he’s holding on, just barely, because he’s still afraid to fall completely.

You cup his face in your hands, pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “Let go, my love,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a breath. “I want to see you.”

His resolve shatters.

With a low, broken groan, he kisses you again, harder this time, his hands everywhere at once — your hips, your thighs, your breasts. He’s a mess of need and want, his careful control slipping through his fingers like sand. He is undone, and it is everything you’ve been waiting for.

His trousers are the next to go, discarded in a rush as he moves above you, his body pressed to yours, skin to skin. The heat between you is unbearable, but it’s perfect, and when he finally gives in, when he finally lets himself fall apart in your hands, it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

As his groans fill the space between you, as you pull him closer, your bodies tangled together in a perfect mess, you realise this is what you’ve both been waiting for — raw and real, he is completely yours and you his. He whispers your name into the darkness.

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dearest-nell · 6 months ago

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morning person

s. harrington x reader, 2.8k

summary: a snapshot into the morning routine of steve harrington, now that the two of you have moved in together includes: established steve x reader, domestic fluff, steve is a busybody. warnings: literally none except i am still incapable of proofreading properly

a/n: honestly if anyone has any requests i would love to hear them, or just want to chat about this show that has ruined my life, because i'm spiralling into obsession over here.

People who complain about mornings have obviously never spent one waking up beside Steve Harrington, this you’re sure of. Because if they had, then they would know there was nothing in the world so deliciously saccharine than that drowsy, softened look on his face as he blinks the sleep away from mingling eyelashes, his lips curving upwards into a dreamy sort of smile. This isn’t even the first time he has awoken this morning.

Steve Harrington is a morning person – an early riser, a dawn greeter, a restless child on christmas day. His body clock is set as the sun begins to kiss the horizon, his eyes blinking open into a dark, cool bedroom. New. This bedroom is new. He is still getting used to it, this apartment, a dingy one bedroom located just a few blocks from the rougher side of town. It’s a far cry from the mansion he used to live in, small and outdated and a little worse for wear, if he were to say so himself, but it’s home. It’s home because it’s his, and it’s home because it’s yours. You rent it together, bills strung haphazardly from paychecks of jobs you’d both rather live without. Steve doesn’t mind that he still works at the video store, not when it lights up the lamp on his bedside, or cooks the pasta on your shitty gas top that flickers every so often. He needs to call the service guy, now that he thinks about it, but it’s too early to matter.

He can feel the heat of your body pressed in beside him, curled in on yourself, face buried into the pillow now folding creases into your skin, shoulders rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You have never been a morning person, he learned rather early on. You’re delirious, and grumpy, and still so beautiful despite the glare in your eyes when he used to wake you, and now, he knows to let you sleep. His impatience to rouse you, to kiss you and touch you is an urge he’s learned to swallow, so he pauses for a moment simply to stare, to smile to himself at the way you mumble in your dreams.

He has the time, he thinks, considering it’s still dark out, and his shift at the store is not due for half a morning away, so he lets himself linger, tucked into the warmth of bedsheets as he works up the courage to leave it. He knows he needs to, that he’ll feel better if he does, that the routine always pays off even if it means parting from you. The air will be chilly outside, but he needs the cold to clear his head. His morning run is his time, after all. It gives him the solitude to consider, to plan, to unwind.

He slips from the bed, careful footsteps walking a still unfamiliar path through the bedroom, boxes stacked against a near wall still unpacked from the move. His sneakers are in the wardrobe, well placed for a quick pick up, though he hasn’t accounted for his discarded shirt rippled right in his path. He trips, stumbling slightly, cursing himself as the thud that resounds as heavy feet meet the floorboards. He turns with a cringe, hearing you stir, though you do not rise as you wriggle deeper into yellow linens, disappearing beneath the comforter.

He’s quick to dress, not wanting to risk another incident and the wrath of your disturbed sleep, slipping out into the living room to tie his shoes, still half asleep and blinking blearily. Despite its flaws, he likes this apartment more than he thought possible. There’s a passthrough between the kitchen and the living room that lets him talk to you as he cooks, you hanging over the bench to smile at him, pressing kisses into his shoulder when he dares to come too close. There’s a strange nook that sits in the wall by the door, one that now holds your keys and bumble bee umbrella, though neither of you are too sure why it was built in the first place. There’s a flat expanse outside the bathroom window that you want to build a flower box into, though Steve is yet to determine how, since neither of you are particularly good at D.I.Y. He loves this second hand couch Eddie found on the curb, loves the strange, abstract art piece Will designed for you both as a housewarming, loves the ceramic clown that Robin stole from an overpriced giftshop to hide in one of your moving boxes, now settled in the bookshelf beside an array of half read novels between you.

He’s building a life here with you, and Steve is trying his best to remind himself of it every chance he get. There will be Christmases spent in these walls, games night drinks spilled on this carpet, and so many I love you kisses pressed to smiling cheeks beside that front door – he hardly knows how to contain the excitement for it all, even as he ties his laces.

The morning is colder than he expected, but Steve has never been one to check the weather even now, even after he caught a cold from a raining run one morning, taking himself straight to work rather than home to you to shower. He figure’s he’ll wing it, deal with the consequences as they come, and enjoy the way you dote on him as he whines and groans in his flu like delirium days later. Cold, but not raining, he knows he’ll be fine this time.

He’s been planning out this new jogging route as he goes, still learning the maps and turns of each new lane. He’d never been to this part of town much before the move, but he’s starting to acclimate one run at a time. It’s not too far from Hawkins, after all. It still feels like a familiar place, but it’s closer to the community college to save you the travel time. Steve’s a visual learner, after all. It gives him the roadmap that he’ll need to plan out his week. He’s taking himself the long way just to jot down the layout; the farmers market, the hardware store, the cafe with the good coffee. He waves to the people he passes by, few and far between, trying to appear friendly. He doesn’t know yet the culture of this community, but he’s eager to make a good impression. He recognises the old man who runs the news agency, stops to chat as they talk about the community centre. Steve’s agreed to volunteer for the refurbishment, he’s hoping it’ll help you both settle in, and you’ve promised to bake up your best batch of pastries to feed the hungry husbands as they work. Steve’s not yet a husband, but he’s planning on changing that in due time.

The sun mingling with the clouds by the time he departs again, his pace quickening through midtown suburbia to take him home. The paperboy is tossing rolls at the doors, barely breaking on his bike as he passes house after house. Steve moves onto the road to avoid any collisions, shaking his head as the teen wheels off past a corner. He hasn’t even thought about his week yet, he realises, and his pace drops in consideration. There’s a stocktake coming up at work that will take more energy than he has to give, his parents are due over for dinner later in the week (he’s hoping they’ll cancel), and Robin has booked him tickets to some kind of gig that he’s certain he’ll hate. He mentally notes the checklist – things to buy, things to do, things to clean – now able to see his lot clearly without the buzz of a busy world around him. His days run smoother this way, alone, soles beating against the pavement. It starts him on the right foot.

He’s out of breath when he arrives back on your block, panting heavily without the grace of a water bottle. He knows he should have brought one, but there’s no point stewing on it now. His thighs ache as he climbs the staircase, three flights of stairs his least favourite part of coming home. He can’t imagine hauling groceries up this stairwell is going to be an enjoyable weekly endeavour, but for the price of rent, he’s willing to make the effort, even with a slightly busted knee.

He’s a little louder than he wants to be as he eases open the lock, slipping into a slightly brighter apartment than when he left. He doesn’t think you’re awake, but he takes pause to slow himself down, turning into the kitchen instead of the bedroom. Steve clicks on the faucet, hanging his head below the tap to let the cool water run directly into his mouth. He lacks grace as he guzzles down half a litre, droplets trickling down his cheeks and chin into unclean dishes from the night before. There’s urgency, he decides, in this drink. No type for a cup, no time to pause. He pulls away gasping, wiping a cupful of water across his sweat slicken face, unable to suck enough breath into his lungs. He leans back against the benchtop, eyes pressed skyward to focus on slowing himself down, letting his heart rate drop back to a blissful pace.

He knows he should shower, but more than anything, he’s aching to get back between the sheets with you. It’s funny how he still misses you when you’re not within reach, even for an hour, even when he knows you’re still wrapped up tight in the comforts of his bed. It feels wrong to love a person this much, like he shouldn’t be made to feel so much, so deeply, every passing minute of every passing day. But he does. He knows he’s not the first to feel such a love, but he thinks he might be the only one regardless, because no one else has you. He thinks it’s strange that everyone in the world isn’t aching to be by your side, that hearts all over the town aren’t skipping beats at the wideness of your smile, the curve of your shoulder, the tickle of your laugh. This love must be special, then, because how else can he be the only one so enamoured by you.

He forces himself into the shower, the water not yet warm even as he sinks his head beneath the stuttering stream. The pipes are old, though a cold shower bothers him far less than it bothers you. He’ll be out quicker this way. He is less thorough in his cleaning than he thinks he ought to be, scrubbing furiously at his body with the loofah you bought him, scraping sweat and red streaks into a now fading tan. He’s seeing the sun less these days in the dead of autumn, but he’ll make it up later. Right now, all he is focused on is climbing back into his bed, his skin stained with a citrus scent embedded into the new soap you had bought. It’s not his usual brand, but he thinks he likes the change anyways. It reminds him of summer picnics with you, fingers digging into orange peels, juices dribbling down his fingers until he tears out slices one by one. The scent lingers, filled with your orange flavoured kisses and sun streaked highlights burning into his mind, and yes, he thinks, the change isn’t so bad.

He shuts off the tap, yanking his towel from the rack to pat himself dry, hair shaking out like a puppy dog with rambunctious excitement to be on his way. He doesn’t bother to redress, dropping the towel to the floor without focus, padding back towards your bedroom. You’re exactly how he left you, though a little more illuminated in the morning light. You’ve wiggled out of the blanket again, one foot kicked out to the side to regulate your body temperature, one hand reaching out towards his side of the bed. You reach for him in your sleep sometimes, and he hates the idea of not being there for you when you do.

He clambers into bed his eagerness betraying his stealth, expert hands lifting your arm up for him to slide under, hanging it securely over his waist as he settles into the warm dip of the mattress. Your body responds instinctively, rolling into him with a groan, still not quite awake, though he can tell you’re not so far off. He runs fingers through your hair, trying to stave off your inevitable waking for as long as he can manage. Your alarm isn’t due for another hour, and he wants every second before that spent just like this.

He doesn’t mean to fall back asleep, but sleep takes him anyways, his eyes blinking shut under the hypnotic pattern of your breathing beside him. He’ll wake up again groggier now, but there is nothing to be done to change it. He tugs you in closer, rougher in his sleep, his neediness permeating his unconscious mind until you’re pressed square against him. The movement spurs you awake, slowly and unintentionally, though it takes you a moment to understand why.

There he is, your man, your darling boy, mouth hanging open with quiet, rumbling snores, arms wrapped around you in a protective lock. He’s never looked more beautiful, even with your eyes out of focus, one closed and pressed into the fabric of your pillowcase. You can smell the soap, feel the softness of his now cleansed skin beneath your curious fingertips, and you know he’s already been out of bed. He tries his best not to fall back asleep, but your smile curves wider to be blessed to see it. There’s a jealousy in you, after all, that he gets to watch you sleep so often. Times like these are rare, when you awaken first, and you’re greedy in your enjoyment of them. You’d take a picture if you thought you could reach the camera, but the moment would spoil, you were sure. You commit it to memory instead, every dip and curve and freckle and hair burned into your head until it’s all you can see. You want his face to be a fading image that blinks to life behind every close of your eyes, an after image repeating itself well into the day when you’re far away from him.

He is so lovely, and you are so in love.

The alarm breaks the two of you out of your reverie, your body jolting at the surprise of it. Steve is slower to start this time, groaning a drunken sort of sound as you slam your hand down on the rattling clock. His arm tightens around you, dragging you until your body is half wedged under his own, your giggles drowning out into muffled chuckles as your face burrows into the crook of his neck.

“I fell back asleep.” He mutters, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“I know.” You coo back, adjusting the curve of your back to a more comfortable position, tangling legs between his own until you’re thoroughly wrapped.

“You sound awake.” He mumbles back, squeezing at your waist with unmasked affection. “Were you up?”

“Yeah.” It’s an airy sort of confession, made to match the tender strokes of fingers reaching to scrape lovingly at his scalp. “Just watchin’ you sleep.”

“Perv.” He teases, kissing at your hair, mouth hungry and missing your skin entirely. He lights up as you giggle, his head lifting with heavy blinks to gaze down at you, hair pressed upwards into a lopsided mess. You do your best to pat it down for him. “You like what you see?”

You crook your head to the side, focusing your gaze in a tender expression. “Something like that.” His brow arches curiously, leaving you to laugh again. “I love you, you moron.”

His smile widens, head dropping to nuzzle his nose roughly into your cheek, lips catching on your jaw every so often with exaggerated noises of enthusiasm. “Love you too, baby.”

There is silence for a minute, nothing but his lips dragging affection across the planes of your cheek, his hands wandering underneath the fold of your bedshirt to press fingertips into fading stretch marks across your hips. You’re worried he’ll fall asleep again, and you know you don’t have the heart today to wake him a second time.

“You want breakfast? I can make jam on toast?”

He hums a happy sound, though does nothing to release his grip on you. “Yeah, okay. Gonna have to escape me, though. Can’t make my arm move.”

He pretends to try and shuffle his grip, putting on a little show with a pout when his hold does not dislodge. You roll your eyes, brushing the pad of your thumb against his brow bone.

“Five more minutes, then.”

Steve was back asleep within three.

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prongsx · 3 months ago

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Lazy Sundays

warning: fluff, f!reader, Jason being a cute guy. English its not my first language. established relationship.

Jason had always been an alert person. It was tiring, but he couldn't help it. Life forced him to never rest.

It started when he was still young, he had to be alert so he wouldn't die in the alley of crime, if he made a false move he could end up in a web of crimes and murders. He had to be alert to keep his own mother from self-destruction, had to be constantly checking her breathing, if she had eaten, if she hadn't used her subsistence money for drugs. He learned that being a heavy sleeper was dangerous when his house was shot at and he had to hide under the table, eyes full of tears.

Then Bruce adopted him, but he had already lost part of his ability to be a child, never carefree. And now he had the burden of showing Bruce that he was good enough, that he wasn't wasting his time training a boy with too many emotions. Always alert. He had too many emotions, he knew that. His love was wide and deep, but so was his anger. His sadness was like sharp claws scratching his skin from the inside out. He needed to stay alert to keep his emotions in check, because they could consume him.

Being Robin kept him alert, he needed to take care of himself and Batman's back. Even Dick, who had years of training, found Jason too vigilant, his eyes never seemed genuinely relaxed and Dick found out the hard way. He went to play a prank on Jason, waking him up in the middle of the night, but the boy reacted in the worst way and before Dick could react, there was a knife pressed against his neck.

When Jason died and came back with Red Hood, his sense of survival became stronger. There were too many people wanting to kill him, the anti-hero had twice as many enemies, sleeping in peace was not an option. He had so many knives and hidden weapons that he would get scared when he went to brush his teeth and found an AK 47 in the bathroom cabinet. He needed to be like that to survive.

Then he met you. And his knees got weak, his heart raced faster than when he had a gun pointed straight at the vigilante's heart. After much difficulty, you started dating, even though Jason warned you that dating him was a death sentence.

You didn't listen to his warnings, forcing him to stop self-deprecating and start acting like a functional adult (as much as possible) to be in a relationship. Jason was right, he was too busy with his double life. He almost never relaxed, worried about taking care of you and protecting you from his enemies.

After a few fights, you decided that for the relationship to work, you would have at least one day a week to be lazy. You started it: Sunday morning. You needed to know that at least one day a week you would have Jason completely. It was hard to live with the distance his night shift required. So he committed to keeping up this new tradition.

"I'm hungry," Jason just mumbled in response to your plea. It was 10 am on a Sunday morning and neither of you were willing to get up, just like you forced them to. Your legs were intertwined, a thin sheet covering you, Jason's hands holding you tightly against him, his soft lips against your shoulder. The sun was coming in through the curtains, Gotham seemed silent, the only noise that mattered to you was each other's breathing.

"The bakery should be delivering by now," Jason replied, sighing contentedly as you drew patterns on his arm. One of the rules of Sunday morning was to make no effort, even cooking. You knew Jason liked to cook and take care of you, but at least one day a week you allowed yourself the luxury of eating ready-made food.

"It should be at the door by now," you mumble, finally opening your eyes and finding your boyfriend's beautiful face. Jason imitated your action, his sapphire eyes seemed clouded with sleep, which pleased you. Yesterday you had gone out to dinner and stayed up late watching movies and kissing on the couch, which explained how tired they both were.

"Let's get it then," Jason's voice was still hoarse, his black hair cutely messy. He let out a groan of complaint when you pulled away from him to get up, causing you to laugh.

As soon as you established lazy Sunday, it was as if a switch had turned in Jason's head. It was impressive to admire how beautiful Jason looked relaxed, his shoulders without all that tension, his features less marked and even his scars relaxed.

Peace would suit Jason, you thought.

The two of you shuffled into the kitchen, talking in whispers, your hands never leaving each other. Jason walked close behind you, his large hands holding your hips close to his body.

Your boyfriend had a silly smile on his lips, the joy of being with you leaving him on cloud nine. He noticed how beautiful you looked in your sweat shorts and with his shirt, you smelled of comfort and love.

"So, our only commitment is to have coffee and kisses at the counter, right?" Jason hummed, a huge smile on his lips, the sun seemed brighter. Then clouds appeared in the glorious sky of the lazy Sunday.

The clouds came in the shapes of three known people invading your window, the largest of them smiling happily. You thought Jason was really sleepy and relaxed, because he didn't even raise a gun towards the intruders, which was customary.

"Good morning, couple." Dick Grayson greeted, closing the window when Damian entered last. You raised an eyebrow, while Jason gave a slight growl behind you. Your hands came up to lightly stroke his hair, urging him to stay calm, he relaxed into your touch, your lazy Sunday Jason returning.

"Okay, Todd, we got some information from that case we were working on." Damian said, being the rude little punk that he is, throwing work papers on their kitchen table. Tim Drake followed suit, leaning against their counter, where Jason planned to kiss you until you forgot your name.

"Boys," you called out to them, clearing your throat. Three pairs of eyes stared at you. "Today is Sunday."

You sighed when none of them reacted. Damn workaholic sons of Bruce Wayne. Your feet shuffled to the kitchen door to get breakfast, leaving Jason to take care of his brothers.

"Jason, we need those other documents you saved." Dick said, sitting down next to Damian. Jason let out a long sigh, he still felt numb from being in bed with you. He wouldn't let his brothers ruin his favorite day of the week.

"Can we fix this tomorrow?" The three brothers stared at Jason, their eyes equally wide. The fearsome red hood's posture was so relaxed, his pajama top slightly torn and loose. His hips leaned on the counter and his blue eyes seemed clearer, almost serene. His hair really looked like a mess, the white lock falling over his forehead in a cute sort of way.

"Jason, did you hear us? It's the case you've been working on for months." Tim said, still looking perplexed. Jason sighed, his features still marked by prolonged sleep.

"Yeah, yeah. So?" He grumbled, a smile appearing on his lips when you came back with the breakfast bag. Handing him a cup and pouring coffee. He whispered a quick, "Thank you, honey."

Damian was the first to recover from the shock, his hands holding a particularly suspicious photo that would solve half of Jason's case.

"Todd, big drug case! You spent months bugging everyone for clues."

Jason just shrugged, sipping his coffee and resting his face on your shoulder, humming with joy.

"One day more, one day less."You could have laughed at how Dick looked like he had been slapped in the face. Your heart was bursting with pride for your boyfriend, who had finally learned the meaning of being at peace and lazy.

"Who are you and what have you done with little wing?" Dick said, blinking those big blue eyes slowly.

You turned your back on the little argument again, not wanting to interfere in the family dynamics, busying yourself with taking your breakfast out of the bag from your favorite bakery.

"Take those papers off the table, let's have breakfast." Jason replied with just that, making Tim's eyes pop out. He looked like a different Jason, without his characteristic sarcastic smile or the tense shoulders.

"Todd, we need to figure this out!"

"Jason, it won't take long..."

Jason let out a louder sigh now, leaving the Wonder Woman mug in the corner and turning to his brothers, his tone of voice still soft compared to normal. "Today is Sunday." He repeated, pinching his nose slightly to keep his temper from rising. "I'm staying with my girlfriend. I'll figure this out with you guys tomorrow."

He turned to you, almost as if he expected to receive a proud smile, and he got one. Damian let out a snort.

"Todd, be a man for once in your life and stand up for yourself."

"He's too tangled up in the leash." Tim joined in the provocation, unable to contain himself.

"Wrong choice of words, boys," you whispered, knowing what was coming next.

The three of them were startled when Jason's hand slammed on the table they were at.

"I'm only going to say this once. It's Sunday morning. If you little shits are unhappy and girlfriendless, that's your problem. Either you're going to leave now with these papers or I'm going to use the gun I have hidden behind the fridge."

Jason's blue eyes were that darker shade that screamed: danger! It didn't take much more, the three guards took the papers and left muttering, you heard a few words that sounded like "this will come back, Todd" and "I'll tell him where he can stick that gun."

You turned to Jason, your hands going to his tense shoulders.

"Honey, it's okay, I'll accept if you want to help them."

He let out a snort, pulling you against his chest, smoothing the skin under your shirt.

"No. It's our lazy Sunday."You smiled, ridiculously content, pulling him into a lazy kiss.

"Speaking of which, gun behind the fridge?"

He distracted you with a kiss at the base of your neck, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Bastard.

It was a good lazy Sunday.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #dc comics #fluff #batfamily #fanfic

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librababe99 · 4 months ago

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More Than Skin Deep

Word Count: 766

cw: Fem! Reader, Self-esteem issues, reference to scars and disfigurement, established relationship, hurt with comfort

A/N: This is my first time writing for Wade! Honestly I wanted this to be short and sweet–plus this man is sooo deserving of some gentle love❤️ Would y’all be more open to content with Wade? How are we feeling?

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The night was quiet—surprisingly so for a place like New York City, where the streets never truly slept. But here, in the dim light of Wade’s apartment, the world outside seemed a distant memory. The soft glow of the streetlamp filtered through the window, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, illuminating the gentle rise and fall of Wade’s chest as he lay on the bed.

You sat beside him, your fingers tracing the well-worn path over his skin. Wade Wilson—merc with a mouth, the man who’d seen more carnage than most could even imagine—was currently as still as you’d ever seen him. His eyes were half-closed, a rare vulnerability etched into the lines of his face.

Your fingers followed the familiar route, gliding over the uneven terrain of his chest. Every scar, every imperfection, was a testament to the battles he’d fought and survived. They were part of him, part of the man you loved, and you cherished each one.

“Why do you do that?” Wade’s voice was softer than usual, lacking the usual quip or joke. There was something raw in his tone, something unguarded. He didn’t open his eyes, though. Maybe he was afraid to see what might be reflected in yours.

“Do what?” you asked, your voice equally gentle. Your fingers continued their journey, moving lower, tracing the ridges and valleys of his abdomen. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the tension in his muscles gradually easing under your ministrations.

“This.” He gestured vaguely to where your hands roamed. “Touch me like I’m… I dunno, something precious.”

You smiled, though he couldn’t see it. “Because you are.”

Wade let out a scoff, the sound more automatic than genuine. "Come on, you can't really find this attractive," he muttered, a trace of self-deprecation in his voice.

You smiled softly, leaning down to kiss one of the scars on his chest. "I find you attractive," you whispered against his skin, feeling the subtle tremor of a laugh as it reverberated through him.

You shifted, lying down beside him so you could face him, your hand moving to cup his cheek. His skin was rough here too, but to you, it was perfect. You brushed your thumb across the ridge of his jaw, feeling the way he leaned into your touch, despite himself.

“You’re not just scars, Wade,” you said, your voice firm but tender. “You’re the man who makes me laugh until my sides hurt. You’re the guy who takes on the worst of the worst to protect people, even if you’d never admit that’s why you do it. You’re the person who makes me feel safe, and loved, and important.”

Wade’s eyes finally opened, and you saw the conflict in them—an uncertainty that rarely showed itself. “You really believe all that?”

“I do.” You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and slow. “I love every part of you. The loud, the quiet, the scars, the smile… all of it. You’re mine, Wade, and I’m not letting go.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, his hand coming up to rest on yours where it still cupped his cheek. “You’re too good for me,” he said, but there was less conviction in his words this time.

“Maybe,” you teased lightly, pulling back just enough to see the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “But you’re stuck with me now.”

Wade’s hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the lie in your words. But there wasn’t one. What he saw was the truth—the unconditional, unwavering love you had for him.

“Guess I could get used to that,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You kissed him again, letting your lips linger, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him. Your hand drifted down his chest once more, over the scars and the rough patches, your touch reverent, worshipful. You poured everything into that kiss, into your touch, wanting him to feel the depth of your love, to know it was real.

When you finally pulled back, Wade’s eyes were dark, filled with something that looked an awful lot like hope.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words barely audible.

You just smiled, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, your heart full. “Always.”

And as the night stretched on, with the world outside growing quieter still, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms. Wade’s body relaxed completely under your gentle ministrations, his heart finally accepting what his mind struggled to comprehend.

That he was loved—scars and all.

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#wade wilson #deadpool #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #marvel #mcu #fem reader #wade wilson x fem reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #ryan reynolds

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jksoftii · 2 years ago

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☆♡ JUNGKOOK FIC RECS ♡☆

this is a list of my favorite jungkook fics! most of these contain smut so no minors allowed. please show your love to all these amazing authors :) !!

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

SERIES

Birds by @missbickerbocker a f s strangers to lovers au (Doctor!Jungkook x TravelBlogger!Reader)

Summary - In Jungkook's world stability is key. He knows what exactly is expected of him as head doctor of Seoul's ER Unit. But when an unfortunate collision lands him at your bedside in his own ER unit, his stable world starts to shift. — the angst, the sexual tension, everything about this is just perfect!! doctor jk 😭🙌🏻

Gradation by @shina913 a f s bestfriend to lovers au fwb slow burn (Bestfriend!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On your wedding day your fiancé leaves you at the altar. While reeling from embarrassment and heartbreak, your bestfriend, Jungkook, wants to do everything that he can to help you heal. — i remember coming back to this fic again and again because the entire storyline in itself was so comforting, everyone around oc was so caring and jungkook especially made my heart burst in this one!

Friday nights and takeout by @ahundredtimesover a f s strangers to friends to lovers (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the café, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he — i love love love cute happy endings. there was a lot of scolding eachother but their dynamic itself was just endearing 🤧💖 @ahundredtimesover 's other works are also wonderful! you won't be disappointed checking them out!

Lost Stars by @yoongiofmine a f s strangers to friends to lovers au slow burn (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. — i read this in one sitting because it was so interesting! the twists in this story kept me engaged, i felt like i was in a movie.

Coquet by @shina913 a f s fake dating au strangers to lovers (Escort!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous. — another one by @shina913 because i can't get enough of their writing! the angst, fluff, smut everything was balanced so well. top notch literally. sexy escort jungkook made me get on my knees no joke 🙌🏻🤧

Once You Realize by @kooala a f s friends to lovers idol au (Idol!Jungkook x Idol!Reader)

Summary - Seeing your friend regularly turned out to be difficult because of your colliding schedules, but seeing him again after a couple of months something about the way you thought about Jungkook seemed to have shifted. If only you wouldn’t have started getting close with someone else before you had realized how you felt about your best friend — this indeed is the cutest falling in love story! it's a slowburn but not overwhelming. sjdhjsjs it's just adorable 🥲

ONESHOTS

In which drabble series by @onlyswan a f s established relationship au (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - this is the cutest collection drabbles of boyfriend jungkook!! i recommend all of the installments, the writing is perfect, it's packed with perfectly illustrated details and vivid emotions and you can feel the love radiate from them 🥹 Art is by far my favorite writer on here 🙌🏻 these are a few of my personal favs from the installments -

in which jungkook comes home drunk but bam can’t speak f wc: 2.6k

— no because drunk jk is a menace and we all know it. this was so chaotic and fluffy it made me want to scream!!!

in which jungkook stumbles with his new pair of eyes f wc: 2.8k

— jungkook with glasses. my weakness. but this was so cute and fluffy! it's his little journey figuring out how to handle his glasses with oc!

in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give a f s wc: 8.3k

— this is actually a angsty one but it shows their ups and downs as a couple and gives more insight into their relationship!

The Boy with Galaxies in his Eyes by @oddinary4bts a f s wc: 52.9k strangers to fwb to lovers au (Idol!Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader)

Summary - you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours? — this has a LOT of angst, i won't lie i cried a few times reading this too. the character growth in this was just so phenomenonal. i go back a lot to this and read it again and again just to re-live the story. and ofc the smut is an amazing add on toooo 😭🙌🏻

My babysitters a quarterback by @ohpretty-baby a f wc: 30k enemies to lovers high-school au (Quarterback/Babysitter!Jungkook x Cheerleader!Reader)

Summary - after getting cheated on by the star of the hockey team, park jimin, your life (as expected) goes downhill. what you don’t expect is your parents being skeptical of whether or not you’re a good older sibling for your sister. you also don’t expect them to call jeon jungkook—the person you hate most—to babysit the two of you.

or, alternatively: jungkook babysits you even though the two of you are the same age. — i love this so much oh my goshhhhh this is one of the fics which will make you laugh and cry at the same time. it's fluffy and their dynamic is absolutely adorable. it's sooooo beautifully written!! :))

Spring will come again by @baepsaesbae a f s wc: 10.9k strangers to lovers au (Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!Reader)

Summary - Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever? — everything in this just feels so warm and comforting and jk is so sweet and so precious in here. there's angst but a very cute happy ending. the writing was so well done and so well articulated!! <333

Safety Net by @pradaksj (TWO-SHOT) a f s enemies to friends to lovers roommates au (Boxer!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. — this is one of my favorite fics ever. it's hilarious and emotional at the same time. both are literally the definition of dumb and dumber 😭 @pradaksj did a lovely job at illustrating their relationship progression. boxer jk just has my entire heart 😵‍💫🙌🏻

Be-Ghoul-Ment by @dokyeomin f wc: 10.1k idiots to lovers university au (Blonde!Jungkook × Reader)

Summary - [beguilement (noun): an entertainment that provokes pleased interest and distracts you from worries and vexations] --- You hate haunted houses more than you’ve ever hated anything. You don’t understand the appeal. But this Halloween, you decide you might hate Kim Taehyung even more. — the cutest fic ever! jk and oc both being a nervous wreck in this was so relatable 😭, and I loved the side friendships with Taehyung and Hobi. It was so sweetly crafted and left me feeling happy inside.

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dilfluvrr10 · 7 months ago

Note

Hello can you write a smut about virgin joost x virgin reader? Thankss

I wrote this pretty quickly so ignore any errors but this one's for all the horny bastards out there. I see you.

Stolen Glances ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

CW: Nsfw, age gap

word count: 2.5k

(I was writing from 1st person than kept randomly switching to 2nd person when I was thinking of Joost's pov, she's a little messy sorry)

My thoughts ran wild as I chewed on the end of my pencil. I was supposed to be revising for my biology exam tomorrow, but how could I when a man as heart throbbing as Joost was sat right in front of me. My father was a well-established manager who had represented the biggest musicians of my time. He had reached out to Joost after his breakthrough single ‘Friesenjung’ and together they had boosted Joost’s international stardom to new levels. My father always had a good eye for talent. They had developed a close bond over the short time they had worked together, my father, a clever and creative man who never stifled Joost’s artistry. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve always been involved in his work, going on tour, tagging along for press and having a string of musicians over at our house constantly. But this was different. Maybe it was just hormones or whatever, a part of growing up, or maybe it was because father was particularly fond of him, or maybe it was the way he always acknowledged me. I don’t know what it was, but he made me feel things I’ve never felt before.

He sat directly in front of me, discussing marketing for his next song, a favourable topic for both Joost and my father. They had been at it for hours, going back and forth intently at our dining room table when I walked in- deciding I wanted to do my work in more ‘natural light’. Of course, I just wanted to be around Joost, his entire demeanour utterly intoxicating to me. I sat at the end of our long dining table, and with my father’s back turned to me, I couldn’t resist stealing glances at Joost every chance I got. In a daze, I admired the way his brows subconsciously furrowed a little in concentration, the way he talked so expressively with his hands. His hands. My mind gradually became clouded with thoughts of his hands roaming my body, what his hands would look like around my neck. I bit down harder on the pencil, almost touching lead. Discreetly, I crossed my legs and squeezed my thighs together, feining for any pressure down there.

Joost could feel your eyes swallowing him whole. It was nothing new to him now, you always had your beautiful doe eyes plastered to him. He had no problem with the admiration you gave him, he understood your young curiosity. He also understood he could never act on it, could never betray his manager like that. Touching his daughter in all the places she daydreamed about, taking a bit of her sweet innocence away all for himself. No. He’d stay out of your way, be kind to you in other ways, like helping with your school work (even though he was hopeless in his own high school days) and making sure you weren’t too stressed with exams by making you laugh whenever he could. You had been staring at him for quite a while now, you must’ve been particularly horny today, he thought to himself. A slight smirk nipping at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and adjusted his pants around his crotch knowing you’ll catch it.

I nearly threw up as he moved in his chair, legs spread as he leaned back adjusting his pants. My eyes grew wide with embarrassment when I noticed Joost’s gaze flicker towards me, evident he knew the affect he had on me. In a panic I hurriedly ran to my room. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of Joost realising how I felt about him, all he’d ever been to me was kind and now he’s going to think of me as some naive girl with a hopeless crush on him. I cried, regret and humiliation in every drop that soaked my pillow. How could I have been so careless with my feelings?

A light knock at my bedroom door had awoken me from my tear-fueled slumber. Vaguely disorientated, I searched around for my phone. The bright, white light illuminated the room: 9:15pm. “Shit” I wasn’t meant to sleep all day. Groggily, I got to my feet and shuffled over to the door, questioning who it might be.

Joost could tell you had been crying, your eyes red-rimmed and still slightly swollen. He hated seeing you like this, “oh, I’m sorry did I wake you?” his voice soft and concerned.

“Joost…no, no it’s fine...everything okay?” the back of my throat burned, and my voice was faintly raspy.

“You left your things on the table, I just thought I’d drop them off before I went to bed,” he handed me my textbook and laptop but lingered in the doorway as if he had something else to say.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in your room since lunch, tell me what’s going on,” Joost always carried a comforting energy, I felt like I could tell him anything. But not this.

“Oh yeah I was up late last night, got really tired I guess,” followed by a small awkward laugh. Joost stood tall in front of me, having to look up to talk to him filled me with dirty thoughts. He wore a white tank, plaid pyjama pants and his night prescription glasses. His hair scruffy, signalling he had already been in bed. I began questioning the intentions of Joost’s visit, did he really just want to return my things? This late at night? No matter how guilty I felt, I couldn’t shake the butterflies growing in my stomach at the tension between us.

He looked down at you, you were avoiding eye contact now, your leg bouncing nervously and your fingers tapping the door where you held it open. Oh how shy he made you, how vulnerable and yielding. He felt bad after what had happened today, he contemplated for hours in bed if he should make it up to you tonight or just let it be. But seeing you now made it an easy choice.

“You know, I really don’t mind” he almost whispered, tilting his head and stepping ever so slightly closer. I glanced up once again, confusion and anticipation coursing through me. “Mind what?” I asked through a clueless façade. He shook his head, slowly stepping forward until he was completely in the confines of my bedroom, closing the door gently behind him. Just me and him. “I see the way you look at me…I’ve seen the way you cross your legs in the process” a wild smile danced over his lips, that’s when I realised this was all wildly funny to him. The entire time I’ve been losing my fucking mind over this man- he had been totally and utterly aware and amused. I scoffed at his upfront words, “God, what are you talking about Joost. You’re crazy, what are you getting at-” I was abruptly cut off by Joost’s huge hands firmly placed on my arms, pushing me back towards my bed.

“Sit.” With your lips still slightly parted with the ghost of whatever bullshit you were carrying on about, you obeyed, looking down into your lap and fidgeting with your fingers. Your surge of false confidence had been his last straw. He was going to give you whatever you wanted, all you had to do was tell him. He traced a tender finger along your jawline, he glimpsed your eyelashes fluttering from his angle, felt your breath hitch. He lifted your chin with his index finger, Those gorgeous eyes shimmering wide with unspoken desire.

Already, I was going to absolutely crumble under Joost’s very minimal touch. His fingers barely grazing my skin were well enough to send shivers cascading down my spine. I was timid and taken aback but at the same time I craved more; I wanted to feel him everywhere. “What were you saying?” he flashed another one of his cheeky grins I loved so much. His sly comment made me laugh this time around, turning the tense atmosphere surprisingly warm. He sat down next to me, causing fleeting touches of our arms and thighs. I was enveloped in his familiar scent, calming my nerves further. He placed a hand on my thigh, his tattooed finger drawing delicate circles as he spoke. “Let me give you what you want” his voice was low and hummed a beautiful harmony. I’d imagined this scenario countless times ever since I first laid eyes on my Joost. He had no idea what I’d let him do to me.

“Just be gentle,” the sweet sound of your consent aroused Joost more than he ever could’ve imagined. He wrapped his other hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in inches from him. With his thumb he caressed your bottom lip, your breathing heavy and erratic against every move he made. “I wouldn’t be anything else for you” he uttered softly, his words dripping with reassurance before grabbing your face and placing a light kiss over your needy lips.

For me, this small kiss was a revelation. The taste of him, the feeling of a mans lips pressed against mine while his hands caressed my body, it was a rush of sensations I’ve never experienced before. He lightly pecked my lips once more before smashing hungrily into me, kissing and sucking. With his hands still cradling my face and his lips still glued to mine he urged me to lay down. I wrapped one arm around his neck, and one hand curled around his bicep beside my head as he ruthlessly attacked my lips a while longer.

Heavenly whimpers escaped both you and Joost, still being cautious not to wake anyone. Pulling away and seeing your lips so swollen and kiss-bitten made Joost so proud.

My body ached for him, “I can’t take much more of this” I whined as he left a trail of kisses down my neck. He lifted my shirt up over my head and continued down my stomach, his hands eagerly grabbing the sides of my waist and tits. He stopped at the edge of my pants, sat up and came to rest his back against the head of the bed. “Come here baby” he softly instructed me while patting the space in between his outstretched legs. He held me steady while I took up position, my close to bare back comfortably leaning into his chest, the difference in size apparent. His arms draped down to my thighs, his fingers never failing to caress every inch. Waves of comfort came with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he lowered his tongue to the nape of my neck, licking a long stripe up to my ear.

“Just relax,” he breathed, making the hairs on my neck stand straight. His hands ventured back to my pants, pulling them off with deliberate slowness, I lifted my hips to help and kicked them off the bed. “You’re so beautiful,” each word warm against my skin. His tantalizing hands resumed their careful journey as the cool air nipped against my newly exposed skin. I sucked in an audible breath as his fingers trailed up my inner thigh, “Is this okay?,” he said pausing just before my underwear to gauge my reaction. A weak nod was all I could muster up, I couldn’t resist slowly rocking my hips back and forth against him from the thrill of his touch. With my eyes closed tight I buried my face into Joost as the pad of his thumb brushed over the delicate fabric along my wet slit.

You squirmed into Joost ceaselessly, as he applied more and more pressure, unknowingly giving him a massage of his own through his pants. Your panties were becoming increasingly more damp, to the point where they clung to you leaving nothing to the imagination. Joost took this as a sign you were ready for more. You hadn’t opened your eyes since he started, your head was turned to the side, buried in his chest resulting in your neck being awfully exposed. A hot half moan escaped your lips in surprise as Joost’s mouth worked skillfully on your sensitive neck, his tongue flicking against your skin before he sucked ravenously, drawing out even more of those sweet, breathless sounds. At the same time he slipped his hand underneath the waistband of your underwear. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders and mouth wide open as he stroked your swollen clit and folds. You were involuntarily trembling and bucking against him as he fingered you to the edge. Every muscle inside your body was quivering aggressively. Deep tremors formed in your core and rippled outward. All composure was gone under his overwhelming touch.

My breaths came in heavy, uneven gasps. My chest rising and falling rapidly. I was completely at his mercy as his fingers worked me closer and closer. Every nerve in my body was aflame, my senses so desperately flooded by the delicious friction and heat of his touch. I was right there, teetering on the edge, ready to dive into the abyss of ecstasy he had created. Then his hands pulled away.

The abrupt halt left me gasping, my body trembling with unfulfilled need and anguish. My eyes flew open to meet his, “Joost, why would you stop?” He ignored my question and kissed me in compensation. “Not yet” was all he gave me. I kissed him open-mouthed and needy, my heart ponded in my chest, tension lingering in my aching body. With our lips still attached I wrapped a hand around the firm forearm draped around my waist and guided him back to down to the hot mess he had left me with. Desire still burning hotter than ever.

“You need me that bad baby,” his accent a seductive melody. “Please,” the desperation in my voice so evident- my cheeks burnt red. He gave no resistance to the tiny hand around his wrist, full of urgency and insistence. This time your eyes never left his, the intensity of longing clear to him. He found his hand back where you needed It most, your hips arched, silently begging for his touch. The moment his fingers made contact once again, a shudder ran through you, a suppressed moan released. “Don’t stop,” you commanded. You had a certain feralness to you the second time around, showing him exactly where and how you wanted him. Never letting go of the tightening grip around his wrist. Your body was pressed tightly into Joost’s, using him shamelessly like a toy. You needed him to finish what he had started, and you weren’t afraid to show him how much you wanted it. The reserved nature he knew you by was overcome by an insatiable desire. He pushed his tattooed fingers deep into your gushing entrance, frantically pumping in and out of you. “Fuckk,” tears spilled down your cheeks as you finally came.

Joost’s touch softened immediately, noticing you were overstimulated. You turned to your side still heightened with emotions and riding out the orgasm. With tender care Joost cradled you in his arms, running his hand through your hair, soothing you through the storm. “You’re okay.”

Nestled into the curve of his arms, you felt a soft blanket envelop you, and with a sigh of content you allowed yourself to surrender to sleep.

----------♡--------------------♡--------------------♡--------------------♡

(And he never even took any cloths off)

Also just realised I never actually stated she was a virgin

#joost klein fanfic #joost klein requests #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein smut #justice for joost #joost klein #europapa

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yandere-metal-family · 5 months ago

Note

hiiii this is my first metal family request and I feel a bit silly but this is my new obsession....

if it doesn't inconvenience you, could I have a yandere dee x reader?

the reader is sheltered and usually keeps to herself because she's shy and has a hard time making new friends. She's very innocent and tries to see the best in everyone, which is how she doesn't pick up on dee's yandere tendencies and just brushes them off as him being nervous or something

tysm in advance!

Lol yeah this is a more normal request tbh

Pt II: WIP

Moving to a new school in the middle of the year was the worst thing in the world. It was one thing to go at the beginning of the year, but the middle of the year- Everyone already had established relationships and such.

It didn't help that you weren't the most extroverted person in the world, so you doubted you'd ever make friends.

---

You went into class before school started, because there was no way you were going to introduce yourself to the class. The teacher, who had his head in papers, looked up when hearing you enter and told you to sit at the third table. There was a kid named 'Dee'[?] who sat there by himself.

When the bell rung, you felt the anxiety run down your spine. You hoped no one asked you anything or mentioned anything, because you would rather die than to be noticed.

That was short lived when a blonde kid spoke to you.

"Move."

You looked at him, a little flustered, "Excuse me?"

He gestures to the seat that he was leaning on and you made an 'Ooh,' face and moved seats.

---

Dee's eyes stayed on you during the whole period. You didn't look over at him once, because you wanted to pretend that maybe he wasn't looking at you and it was just your paranoia, but you were almost positive that he was looking at you.

Dee was interested in you. He knew you were new, obviously, but where were you from? Why are you here? What's your name? So and so.

He felt weird being so interested in another person, because he usually didn't care about other people. But he liked new things- and you were a new toy.

He looks down at your hands to see that were painted a nice dark purple, almost black, color. When the teacher's back is turned he nudges you.

You look over at him, a little confused, before he gestures towards your nails.

"I like your nails."

"Oh, thanks?"

After that he doesn't talk to you for the rest of the class.

---

You pack your bag, before finally leaving the school. You were glad it's over and thankful no one had approached you.

---

Dee wasn't listening to his brother. His eyes were instead focused on the school's interest. Heavy noticed his brother's lack of interest and looked over to the closed doors.

"Who are you waiting for?"

Dee looked at his brother, annoyed, "Nothing."

"Okay, are you ready to leave then?"

"No."

Dee was so quick to respond that it had taken Heavy by surprise. "Then what are we waiting for?"

"Nothing..."

He turns around, thinking maybe you had already left. But as he's about to leave, he hears the door open and looks back and is thrilled when seeing you. He is thrilled and walks up to you, leaving his brother behind.

"Uh, Y/n, right?"

You looked up at the voice to see the guy from one of your classes. You think he was an emo? You were unsure of which he was, but you were almost positive it was like emo punk kind of thing.

"Uh, yeah. Dee right?"

He smiles at his name, "Yeah. Uh, do you want me to walk you home? You know, so you're not alone?"

"Sure, yeah. Thank you."

He walks with you down the stairs, Dee ignoring his brother's call, but that doesn't last long.

You were confused when an orange haired boy came up to you and Dee. The kid looks at Dee, complaining about how Dee was ditching him.

"Oh, do you have to walk your little brother home?"

Dee grimace, rolling his eyes, before turning to you, "No, he can walk by himself. He's fine. Let's go," He quick to push you past Heavy, hoping that Heavy would get the hint.

#metal family #yandere metal family #metal family x reader #yandere metal family x reader #dee x reader #yandere dee #yandere dee x reader #dee metal family #dee metal family x reader #dee schvagenbagen #dee schvagenbagen x reader #yandere x reader

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maluuustrawberry · 7 months ago

Text

Undesirable encounter

(Claude Frollo X Female reader)

Synopsis: You were the new seamstress in Paris and Frollo suspects that you were harboring Romani in your shop. It looks like your first start was more tense than you expected...

A/n: I confess that I am in love with the Hunchback of Notre-Dame and I especially love the book. I hope you readers like it, and if you want to give me tips I accept (you can correct me too) If you want other Disney characters, you can ask me💕.

Part.2 (Final)

(Guys, I don't know if you know, but the word "gypsy" is a slur and should not be used, the correct one is "Roma" Or "Romani people" I put "Gypsy" only in Frollo's lines since you know the type of person he is.)

It was just another ordinary day in Paris, you had arrived in the city a few months ago and worked as a dressmaker. You immediately became known for the beautiful dresses you produced for the girls and the beautiful clothes for the boys too. You had an excellent aesthetic sense.

But what you had in the way of talent, you also had in the way of kindness. When you heard about the persecution of the Romani people, you felt touched by the situation and decided to help them. It was very risky, but you weren't going to stand by and let it happen like the other citizens of Paris were doing, letting themselves be manipulated by Frollo and his hate speeches. There was a basement in your house that you used to store fabric and sewing materials. You took advantage of that room to help some Romani hide in case of emergency if they were being chased by the guards and if there was no time to run to the court of miracles.

And so it went on, you were extremely careful not to leave any traces, until one day or another these "rumors" ended up reaching the judge.

You were sewing up the sleeves of a client's dress, which had been placed in the moulage to make it easier for you to work, and your attention now turned to the bell that rang as soon as the door was opened. Immediately, the atmosphere of the place changed when you saw who had entered. You knew those clothes, the face worn by age and you couldn't forget that look of superiority and pride, because himself thought he was important and better than everyone because of his opposition and faith. Looking behind those glass windows, you could also see some of his men at the front of the store:

“Bonjour, madame.” Frollo said sternly, snapping you out of your thoughts. That thick, authoritative voice gave you the creeps. “I'd like to know who owns this establishment. Your husband is here?”

“A-Ah! Good morning...” You forced a smile and stuck the needle into the moulage so you wouldn't lose it. “Your Honor, I'm the owner, and no, I don't have a husband.”

As you said this, the judge looked you up and down with contempt. Of course, in the 16th century, a young woman like you not being married was a disgrace to society, and on top of that, being able to read and owning your own business was even worse. You weren't tense or nervous with him in your store, on the contrary, you were so calm... After all, you cleaned out the basement and removed any evidence as soon as a family of Romani's moved out recently:

“I've received information that you've been harboring gypsies in your house and I'm here to find out the facts, have you been harboring gypsies?” He got straight to the point.

“No, sir.” You pretended to be as honest as possible, fortunately you were good at lying.

“You know that if you lie, the sentence for insubordination is death...” He moved closer in an attempt to intimidate her.

“My conscience is clear. You have permission to investigate my store, since my words don't apply to you.”

“If I wasn't allowed to, seamstress, I'd still make a point of searching this place from top to bottom, whether you agree or not.”

The older man signaled for some of his men to enter the store before you could protest or complain. Since you were the only one who seemed to have enough courage to go against the judge's ideas when you were right. They went in and started rummaging around for clues, looking everywhere, even under the skirts of the dresses on the mannequins.

Frollo looked you up and down in an nothing unobtrusive way, you didn't notice the glances, but as soon as you did, it gave you the creeps and you avoided looking back at him. He had never noticed you in the city before and he noticed your accent, deducing that you might be a foreigner. The judge couldn't take his eyes off you, you were a very beautiful woman and seemed so delicate, and it seems that some feeling awakened in him when he saw that you were without gloves and your dress showed your shoulders. He came out of his thoughts when a guard approached:

"Sir, we've looked everywhere and found nothing..." Being a clever woman, an idea came to your mind: perhaps it would be better if they looked at everything to leave you alone.

"Have you looked in my basement, gentlemen?" you asked, kicking the rug that hid the small door in the wooden floor of your store.

Frollo was suspicious, but sent his men in to search every corner of the small cellar. Fortunately, they didn't find anything either, just sewing materials and expensive fabrics. After looking around in vain, the men left the store, leaving you and the judge alone:

“I apologize for this inconvenience.” He said as you went to the moulage to finish the dress.

“You shouldn't believe every rumor out there, Your Honor, not all of them can be true.” You said politely. “but apologies accepted, I know it was for the good of Paris and you care a lot about the city.”

Returning to work, you thought he would leave after all that had happened and notice you "busy" sewing, but no, he stayed in the store while walking slowly around analyzing his surroundings:

“This basement...” He pointed to the carpet above the small door. “Why was it hidden?”

“I don't see the need to show everyone that I have a basement here.” You replied nonchalantly. “and besides, I think that old door would spoil the pretty look of my store.”

Frollo didn't seem to believe in that very much, but you shrugged and continued sewing. There were a few seconds of silence, you could only hear his footsteps coming towards you and could feel that man's gaze on you all the time, causing you a certain nervousness or fear. What did he want anyway?

“Do you want anything else?” you asked in an attempt to break the silence and take your mind off the discomfort of feeling his gaze on you, stopping your sewing and looking at him now.

“I just want you to know.” He said, standing close and looking at her with disgust. “I'll keep an eye on you, I won't trust a literate, single woman so easily... I know women of your kind.”

“I don't think who I am or what I do has anything to do with helping... Ouch!” You interrupted yourself with pain when you felt the needle pierce your finger. It was normal for this to happen when were working with sewing, but it had never been this deep, Maybe it happened because of the anger you was feeling at that moment.

Immediately you dropped the needle out of sheer instinct, and in a quick and daring moment Frollo grabbed your hand with a certain amount of force, bringing it in front of his face, which had a small smile of satisfaction on it. The judge was a sadomasochist, he enjoyed seeing someone in pain, especially when it was someone he thought deserved such a punishment. You were shocked by his attitude, you weren't expecting it and didn't know how to react. What was he doing? Frollo continued to hold your hand, watching the small drop of blood ooze from your pricked finger, but his attention wasn't just there, it was on your fingers, your soft skin and the sensation it brought when you touched it with the contact of the warm hand and his, which was a little cold:

“What are you doing?” You asked, with a bit of hatred for such a vulgar and daring attitude, and he laughed a little.

“What would the church think of a woman exposing her bare hands in front of a high-ranking man like me?” You had no reaction for fear. Gradually his fingers entwined in yours and you saw that his eyes went to your small cleavage and your bare shoulders. “And it's not just your hands that are exposed...”

You quickly pulled your hand free and he looked at you incredulously:

“My hands are only exposed because I can't wear gloves when I sew, and you still don't have the right to do that. It's in the Bible; If your eye or your hand causes you to sin, throw it away!” A small smile came to Frollo's face when he heard that.

“So bold... It's typical of women like you to turn away from guilt in order to confuse men's minds with pagan thoughts, but that doesn't matter any more...”

He walked away, heading for the door to leave, but first his attention turned to you:

“It was a nice chat, seamstress... I want you to make me a cloak and sew me a pair of gloves, I'll be expecting you to deliver them tomorrow night.”

After saying that, he left, leaving you with no reaction to what had just happened. You were angry, but at the same time relieved that he hadn't found out. As soon as he left, you stared at your hand, which he touched and intertwined with his large, thin fingers. You'd have to be more careful now, he'd be stalking you and the reason wouldn't just be because he suspected you of helping the Romani people, it would be because of something else and you know exactly what it was and what his intentions were...

End...

#the hunchback of notre dame #disney #disney x reader #fanfiction #claude frollo #frollo x reader #judge frollo #claude frollo x reader #clopin trouillefou #judge claude frollo #thond #esmerelda #disney villains #disney villains x reader #captain phoebus

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yinyuedijun · 1 month ago

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CORRUPTIVE | ratiorine x masc reader

Ratio has been running himself ragged on a project. His blood pressure has been catastrophic, and his mood even worse. Aventurine offers a convenient outlet for his stress. (Or: You new boyfriend is a corrupting influence on you.)

3.2k words. written for @ficsforgaza's kinktober — prompt was double penetration (2 holes). reader is masc + afab (no surgery, explicit terms used), addressed as "boyfriend", "good boy", "baby". soft degradation, praise, 1 instance of name calling. pre-established romantic relationships with aventurine and dr ratio. divider by @/cafekitsune!

Ratio doesn't know why or how you ended up so besotted with Aventurine.

It isn't a matter of your intellect (of which you have in spades) nor your good-hearted nature (which is vastly different from the disposition of the gambler), though both make it puzzling that you would be so interested in the Stoneheart. It is simply that Ratio has never met a man as shy as you, and to this day he can’t fathom how you ever manage to entertain the gambler’s overt degeneracy both in and out of bed. When you’d first asked Ratio whether he would be comfortable with sharing you with the man, Aventurine’s arm hanging off your shoulder and a wicked smile on his face, he had been hardly able to believe it. Ratio even wondered if his synesthesia beacon was malfunctioning, and if by ‘sharing with’ you actually meant ‘rescuing from’.

“Don't worry, Doctor,” Aventurine had purred. “If you ever get jealous, you're free to join in on the fun.”

Ratio had bristled. Jealousy, at the time, implied to Ratio that he was irrational enough to fear that Aventurine might somehow steal you away from him if he did not choose to mutually participate in the relationship. But looking at the facts and at your behavioural history, it was simply inconceivable that Aventurine would be capable of ruining your bond. Logic dictated that your relationship with Ratio was too secure for it to dissolve simply because you were separately engaging in romantic relations with another man.

“Do what you want,” Ratio had said dispassionately and without hesitation. “It doesn't change anything between us. Do try your best to survive that insufferable attitude of his, though. You are free to come to me if you ever need a break from the gambler.”

Since you’ve begun seeing Aventurine, though, Ratio has begun to suspect that Aventurine had meant something else by jealousy. Something less related to the emotional dimension of sharing you and more to do with the physicality of it. Something about seeing you in the mornings-after and noticing the marks that Aventurine likes to litter across your neck. Something about how you seem more and more shameless every time you sleep with Ratio—how you seem able to take him deeper into your throat each time, how you seem to moan louder every time Ratio slides into you, how you now openly whine and beg to be filled by Ratio even though your cheeks are always hot with the embarrassment of doing so.

Something about how Aventurine seems to be training you to become unrepentantly needy for cock.

You are, again, a shy person. Your sex life with Ratio is largely reserved, fairly vanilla, and—and as far as he can tell—so satisfying that you never ask for anything else when he suggests it. I’m not very adventurous, you’d once laughed at him, more than a little sheepish. But dating Aventurine has clearly had a corruptive influence on you, and it had only become fully clear to Ratio the other day when he had moved to gently prep you, only for you to shake your head and reach between your legs, spreading yourself open for him.

“I-it's okay,” you’d panted, barely able to talk through the haze of your lust. “Aventurine already stretched me out earlier—see?”

When Ratio saw that your hole was not only gaping, but still dripping with Aventurine’s cum—he’d nearly passed out.

And now, as Ratio sits in his office, trying desperately to focus on revising the latest RFP from the Intelligentsia Guild while he listens to the rhythmic creak of your bed in the other room, the obscene noise of Aventurine’s hips slapping against your own as he pounds into you—

Well. Ratio admits that it should not have taken him so long to understand the meaning of ‘Join in on the fun’. He supposes he should acknowledge his own idiocy when he is guilty of it.

He would rather die than acknowledge that he does want to join the two of you, though.

Ratio is, for the millionth time, revisiting the blasted black hole information paradox: his least favourite problem in the entire field of quantum mechanics. He has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, but he does sometimes wish to have less knowledge about this specific problem. Despite the fact that humanity has now colonised countless planets, asteroid belts, and moons, the exact properties of black holes remain an unknown that Ratio intends to eventually characterise. It's only a matter of time and effort—a great deal of which he's already spent, to no avail. Irritating, as it is a roadblock for a critical and time-sensitive project at the moment.

“Veritas,” you say, bringing him a bowl of hearty goulash that Aventurine had leisurely cooked during the time that Ratio had been slaving over these blasted equations, “you should take a break. You’ve hardly gotten any sleep for the past week.”

“Sleep can wait,” Ratio replies. His back aches, his wrists hurt, and his head is throbbing. His jaw aches from how much he's been grinding his teeth. “I am on the verge of a breakthrough—I will not rest until I’ve solved this.”

“But I'm worried about you,” you argue.

“I have no need for your worry,” he dismisses—snaps—and he knows he’s gone too far when he sees your brow furrow.

Aventurine, of course, manages to somehow be there. Why he's emerged from the kitchen to spectate on the two of you is a mystery to Ratio, but the Stoneheart appears to be openly and genuinely displeased at the interaction. It is a rarity for him, as Ratio has observed a trend in which Aventurine is least likely to show distress when he's actually hurt, and most likely to feign hurt when he's in control. A negative correlation, so to speak. The man does not like to reveal his emotions. But Ratio can generally get a good read on the Stoneheart, and he can tell that Aventurine’s current frown is genuine.

The concern on his expression fades when you roll your eyes at Ratio. “Okay, you should sleep and eat. Someone’s hangry.”

Ratio clears his throat. Always quick to own his errors as soon as he recognises them, he says, “My apologies. That was beneath me.”

“It's fine.” You stand behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders. As soon as you begin to knead your hands, Ratio becomes acutely aware of a knot at the base of his neck that your fingers are quickly undoing. “I know you're just stressed. You’ve run yourself ragged, Veritas—you’re going to get sick at this rate. Can I help you relax?”

Ratio closes his eyes, tries not to melt at your touch. You aren't wrong, he thinks. Prolonged stress compromises the immune system, and falling ill would hardly do anything for his overtaxed mind. He should do something to relax. He thinks about stepping away from the desk for the first time in hours, sinking into a warm bath… with you there, obviously—so he may wash your back, run his hands along your hot skin, kiss your shoulder amidst all the steam and fragra—

“I have an idea of what may fix the Doctor’s worsening health,” Aventurine says, his sly voice shattering Ratio's pleasant fantasy. The academician scowls.

“I have no need for your ideas,” Ratio snipes in revenge.

“Are you sure, Doctor? Because it seems you're running short on them.” Aventurine’s neon gaze roves over the several monitors in front of Ratio, all of which display his failed models. Ratio is startled.

“You understand the work here?”

“Not at all,” Aventurine replies breezily. “It was just a lucky guess. Or maybe an obvious one.” He slinks closer, wearing a grin that is both familiar and gratingly handsome. Ratio might have even found it charming if he didn't have such an outrageous headache. “Either way, it's clear to me that you need a break, plus a way to work off some of that stress.”

“Neither of which require your assistance.”

“Perhaps not mine,” Aventurine agrees. He's smiling when he adds, “But maybe our boyfriend’s?”

Ratio’s eyes narrow. He decides that he doesn’t like the cunning in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Aventurine’s mouth curls in a wicked, wicked way. He gives you a quick glance, as if asking you for permission, but you don't say anything to stop him—even though you can't look at either of them in the eye.

“Well,” the gambler says, “the two of us have been talking, and it turns out that your boyfriend’s been having some very interesting daydreams involving you…”

Ratio can't believe that this is happening.

In the first place, he'd hardly been able to process Aventurine’s suggestion. Ratio has long deduced that that you’re now much more open in bed, more transparent in your lust, but a fantasy like this one is still unprecedented based on his prior experiences with you. He hangs onto his disbelief right until the moment that you’re nude in front of him, face pressed into his pillows, ass up while you present yourself to both men. Aventurine has expertly teased your holes, so both of them are clenching and pulsing, needing to be filled. You're keeping yourself spread for them both obediently, so Ratio can see perfectly the way your cunt begins to drool when Aventurine eases his fingers into your other hole.

“Did you know, Doctor,” Aventurine drawled, “how much your boyfriend enjoys having both of his holes fucked at the same time?”

Ratio swallows. Can't take his eyes away from your glistening cunt, the way it twitches each time Aventurine moves his fingers inside you. “We—we have never tried.”

“Huh. Guess I can't blame you—it took a while for us to get him there.” His eyes almost gleam, the strange violet of his irises filled with cunning. “We had to go real slow with the toys, you know. I trained him pretty well, but”—Aventurine’s gaze flicks down to where Ratio is hard and throbbing—“he’s still never taken something as big as you. Not while I'm already inside him, anyway.”

You let out a whimper at the observation. “Are you excited?” Aventurine coos. You squirm, as if trying to push your hips toward them, and Aventurine laughs. “So needy. I’ve turned you into quite the cockslut, haven't I? But don't worry, baby. We’ll give you what you need soon enough—right, Doctor?”

Ratio struggles with a reply. He’s not talkative during sex beyond reassurances and encouragement, and perhaps the occasional curse. He doesn’t have a disposition for theatrics, and he certainly doesn’t have any inclination toward degrading ones. But Aventurine performs sex and decadence easily, his tongue silver and deft around his filthy words, his expressions nearly made for it. Ratio’s gut tightens when the gambler smirks at him, his cock twitching in his hand. I know what I'm doing to you, his face seems to say, and it leaves Ratio feeling at once irritated, out of his depth, and alarmingly horny.

For the sake of his blood pressure, Ratio turns his attention to you. The state that Aventurine has you in is obscene, panting and writhing as he eases a third finger into the tight ring of muscle that he’s trying to tease open. You moan a little, then whimper when Aventurine’s other hand finds your cunt. Ratio’s cock throbs at the noise that your pussy makes when Aventurine begins to tease it, dripping wet and embarrassing.

This is when you start to beg: “Please. Please, I'm ready, I promise. You don’t need to go slow, Aventurine, I promise, I can take—”

Your voice cuts out as Aventurine removes his fingers. Your holes are left empty, and Ratio can tell how badly you need them to be filled from the frustrated noise you make. Aventurine guides you into sitting, takes the opportunity to kiss you. “Since you asked so nicely,” Aventurine accedes, his lips moving against yours. He glances at Ratio after pulling away. “Well, then, Doctor—which of his holes would you prefer?”

Ratio swallows. He glances at your pleading expression, then at the space between your legs. At his hesitation, the corner of Aventurine’s mouth lifts. “Wait,” he says, “don’t tell me you’ve never tried anal?”

“Of course we have,” Ratio says curtly, almost defensive. Then he hesitates. “But we usually have… trouble.”

Ratio is large. It isn't a boast, but a factual statement, at least according to the statistics you once rattled off at him. It's challenging enough to make himself fit into your pussy; it’s an even longer process with your ass. He isn't sure from the way that you're begging that you can wait so long—and frankly, he isn't sure if he can either.

But gods, seeing Aventurine work you open for him like that…

Ratio’s concerns seem to have the opposite effect on Aventurine. He looks almost gleeful when he says, “Trouble? Oh, well, that settles it.” He cups your cheek, looks fond. “What do you think, baby? Can I use your cunt while Ratio fucks you from behind?”

You look deeply flustered, but you nod anyway. “Y-yes.” Your voice is trembling with excitement.

“Good boy,” Aventurine replies. He gives Ratio an appraising look, his eyes as hungry on him as they were on you. His gaze hardly strays from Ratio’s, even as he sits back and prompts you into straddling him. The position gives Ratio a maddening view of Aventurine’s length between your slick thighs. “Wanna give us a hand, Doctor?”

“You may run your mouth the whole night if I don't,” Ratio says dryly, and Aventurine laughs as the larger man places his hands on your hips. Aventurine pumps his length, lines himself up with your entrance. Ratio hears it when he nudges himself between your dripping folds, teasing you with the head of his cock.

“What, you don’t like my banter? Will you find other uses for my mouth later?” Aventurine teases, and Ratio is suddenly torn between thoughts of shoving his cock deep into Aventurine’s throat or making you ride Aventurine’s face. Both make for tantalizing images, and he decides he’ll revisit them later. He can already tell that the Stoneheart would find them equally appealing.

“We’ll see. For now”—Ratio begins to guide your hips down—“I’m sure there are other ways to get you quiet.”

Any witty retort dies on Aventurine’s tongue. He throws his head back as you sink onto his cock, overwhelmed, and Ratio can hardly blame him—he knows firsthand how good your cunt feels, always so tight and welcoming. You take Aventurine with more ease than you do Ratio, but not by much: it’s still an agonisingly slow and sweet process, getting your cunt to swallow the whole of him. Given complete control of your motions, Ratio guides your hips up and down, forcing you to take more of Aventurine’s length with each motion. He’s rewarded with the mesmerizing view of your pussy stretching out around the other man’s cock, leaving it glistening and creamy white with slick and pre.

When Ratio finally has you bottom out, Aventurine’s balls dripping with your arousal and pressed flush against you, the both of you let out strangled, broken groans. He lets you catch your breath before pulling you back so that Aventurine is pressed against your front walls, then pushes your belly for good measure. From the gasp you let out, Ratio can tell he's just forced the other man’s cock against your g-spot.

Aventurine’s eyes rove up and down your body, drinking in the sight of you. “Very good,” he purrs. “Are you ready to take Ratio now?”

“I—I think so,” you pant.

“I'll go slowly,” Ratio promises, and Aventurine watches carefully as he reaches for the lube.

“Don’t feel bad if you can't last,” he drawls, and Ratio tries not to scowl. How juvenile. The gambler must sense his disdain, because he shows his teeth in an almost-smile. “I'm being serious, Doctor. It feels very different from fucking someone by yourself, you know.”

“I’m certain I'll survive it,” Ratio says flatly. He pumps his cock once, twice, and Aventurine grabs your ass to spread you for him. Ratio starts pushing into you, begins stretching your tight hole around his girth. It has you shifting and squirming on Aventurine’s cock until Aventurine is forced to still you with his hands, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Be good now,” he says. “Stay still until we’re both inside you.”

“O-okay,” you say, voice watery, and Ratio almost feels bad at the whimper you let out when he pushes another inch inside you. Almost.

He can't help but mentally curse the other man as he slides into you. He hadn’t been lying. On a normal day, you're barely able to accommodate Ratio, but with Aventurine’s cock already deep in your cunt, sliding into you is even more difficult than usual. You feel almost unbearably tight and hot around him, and every time Aventurine moves inside you, Ratio can feel it—every twitch and press of the other man’s cock, barely separated by your walls. It's maddening.

It must be overwhelming for you, too. From the noises you're making, Ratio can tell you feel nearly at your limit. You’re choking by the time that Ratio is halfway inside you, your face thrown into Aventurine’s neck.

“I—I’m so full,” you gasp, and Aventurine hums soothingly as he kisses your nape.

“You can do it.” His eyes flicker to Ratio, who nods and keeps pushing. In a bid to help you relax, Ratio reaches between your legs and finds your sex. Your clit is swollen, neglected, and your hips jolt as soon as he starts rubbing it. Unwittingly grinding against Aventurine’s hips, you make the gambler groan at the motion, and the noise goes straight to Ratio's aching cock. He can hardly believe it when he finally manages to bottom out—leaking and twitching inside you, his balls heavy and tight against Aventurine’s.

“There,” Aventurine says, sounding fully in control even while breathless, “such a good boy, taking us both… we’re going to use your holes now, okay?”

Ratio knows that it's probably the praise that does it. As soon as you hear the words, you let out a familiar kind of whimper—pitched, frantic. “O-oh fuck,” you choke out, and suddenly Ratio feels your walls clenching hard around him, pulsing as your body tries to milk them both. He hisses and manages to hold back from his climax, but Aventurine is shameless about letting you drag him over the edge with you—Ratio can feel him twitching and spurting ropes of cum inside you, the pump of his cock as he begins to fuck you through your orgasm. Ratio can't tell if it's Aventurine’s cum or your squirt that's dripping onto him right now, only that the mess is making him throb inside you, and—

“Fuck,” he snarls, and he pulls out of you so that he can grab the base of his cock. He needs to cum so bad that it nearly hurts, but he doesn't allow himself to finish. Not yet.

You're incoherent with pleasure for a long while, your body a wanton mess between them, but Aventurine—never one to stay quiet for long—quickly recovers and regains control. He pulls out with ease, and Ratio is treated to the obscene sight of your empty holes, both gaping and leaking into their thighs, a mess of cum and pre and lube.

“See?” he pants, grinning at Ratio. “Hard not to cum, isn't it?”

Ratio has to breathe deeply to calm himself. “It did feel… different from usual,” he acknowledges.

“I'm sure,” Aventurine purrs. He glances at you, smiles fondly. “How do you feel?”

You make a euphoric, exhausted noise, and both of your partners understand it to mean that you’ve enjoyed yourself.

“Was that too much?” Ratio asks.

You make a noise that sounds like a No. Aventurine’s grin is sly; he glances at Ratio’s cock, still swollen and aching, and he kisses your forehead.

“Good,” he murmurs. Ratio can hardly believe it, but he can see Aventurine starting to stroke himself, already hardening again. “It looks like the good doctor is still in need of release. You won't mind helping him out for a little longer, will you?”

end

thanks for reading! <3 please do let me know if you enjoyed this, and remember to check out @ficsforgaza's fantastic writers and donate to the cause if you can!

#aventurine x reader #dr ratio x reader #ratiorine x reader #aventio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #mdni divider by @/cafekitsune

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valyrfia · 1 month ago

Note

I think Max will either retire or move to Ferrari in 2027

OUR LESBIAN FERRARI PROPHET SAYS SO? DROP THE TIMELINE

Okay okay anon walk with me.

So I think Lewis is Ready for Retirement. I think he would've retired at Mercedes, eighth championship be damned, if Mercedes had just given him an ambassador contract so he could've used his position and his brand for the causes he wants to dedicate the second half of his life to. As is, Mercedes refused to give him that contract (which, I could go on for AGES about how blindly ridiculous that is and is a clear marker of how far this sport still has to go re: racism)–but Ferrari did.

However, to be a Ferrari ambassador, a 2+1 year race contract accompanies it. Obviously this is a good move for Lewis anyway since it's looking like Ferrari will be one of the quickest teams moving into 2025 and Lewis must have some information on how they might nail the regulation change come 2026, but, and this may be controversial. Charles Leclerc is an established driver at Ferrari, the absolute darling of the tifosi (I mean, he's the second most important person in Italy after the literal pope), and most importantly he's a driver that has not yet hit his ceiling. Now, this is where I tread carefully, but I believe that Lewis, in comparison, is past his prime. Sure, he pulled off an incredible drive at Silverstone this year but he has not been able to match George–and George I believe is currently at a lower level than Charles. I have a sneaking suspicion that Charles is, well, going to walk all over Lewis next year. And if Lewis truly has only moved for the sake of the ambassador contract, he'll break the racing contract after 2 years.

Okay but Ollie is supposedly lined up for that Ferrari seat, and Ferrari NEED an order of succession, so who says that Max will take it?

Red Bull Racing is falling apart at the seams (sorry RB fans). Christian Horner is a power-hungry [REDACTED] who will bring the whole team down with him. The Thai side have never really cared about the Formula 1 team (and I know from Sources, backed Christian Horner in this whole fiasco which is why CH wasn't fired). Newey is gone, I'm sure other key figures will get pinched in the next couple of years, Max has kept everything together for pure skill this past year but the writing is on the wall. I'm going to hold everyone's hands when I say this, but I don't think Red Bull are winning either championships next year....

However, for as much as Max loves to talk about it, I don't think he's actually ready for retirement. I also don't think he'll be the type of guy to retire on a low. Max's contract is until 2028, but he can break it if he drops to P3 in the championship, which, I think there's a non-zero chance of happening in 2026 especially under new regulations/brand new engines.

So Ferrari are likely going to nail the new regs, Max doesn't want to retire on a low, and it looks like Ferrari shopping for a driver and Max wanting to leave Red Bull will line up within roughly the same window.

There's also a couple of sentimental reasons I want to point to. Max (as much as he tries to deny it) is a victim of the old Red Bull Golden Boy curse of being a Ferrari fan. I mean, he literally grew up in the Schumacher era, with his father being friends with Schumacher. He's stated multiple times how if he can't hear the Dutch anthem on the podium he'd like to hear the Italian one. I suspect deep down, he's much more of a tifoso than any of us realise.

There's also the Charles Leclerc of it all. Now really walk with me here because this is tenuous and yes is coming from a known Lestappie (tomato tomato) but isn't really a Lestappen argument.

Charles throughout his entire career has been obsessed with measuring himself up against those who are considered the "best of the best" and showing that he can beat them. He ate Seb alive, he'll likely do the same with Lewis. But both of these are drivers past their primes, at the very end of their lifespans. Charles has still yet to prove he can go toe to toe with a great at their prime and win.

Charles is, literally obsessed, with comparing himself to Max in interviews. Now (RIGHTLY SO) we Lestappies all point and laugh and call him a little obsessed but there's a very real publicity reason he wants to insist to everyone how him and Max were on each other's level in karting–people will subconsciously start to associate Charles as being on Max's level even if he hasn't proven it with championships. It's a very calculated move by Charles, and one I haven't seen many people discuss. Charles wants his name and Max's to be said in the same sentence because it validates Charles' own skill.

But Charles doesn't want to be known as Max's equal, not really, what he really wants is to be considered better than Max. And if he can't do that through number of championships, he can do it by putting the two of them in equal machinery. I think Charles will actually push Ferrari into trying to sign Max, because this is the way he can cement himself firmly as one of the greatest F1 drivers of all time.

So I think a perfect storm of these combination of different factors will result in a Max to Ferrari move in 2027. Obviously all pure speculation, but drawing everything together, I'd give it maybe a 50% chance (providing Ferrari actually do come together which, Forza).

#discourse asks #lewis to ferrari #max to ferrari gate #or lestappen gate v3......#max verstappen #anon

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thesilmarillionblog · 19 days ago

Text

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ─ Special Part 𝟷

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUTTTT! (their second first time hehe), oral sex (f! receiving), prejaculation problems, jealous dean, unprotected sex, established relationship, gentle dean, insecure reader, sweet, fluff

Word Count: 5588

A/N: English is not my first language.

A/N 2: This is a special chapter for complete series WASTE. You can read this special part as a one-shot or after reading the series.

After seeing how exhausted you were in the mirror, you hurriedly changed and washed your face frantically when your shift finally finished. While brushing your hair, you were moving so fast that you injured your finger, acting as though you were heading into battle rather than meeting Dean. Your boyfriend. Thank you very much.

You've been experiencing butterflies in your stomach and all over since he sincerely expressed a week ago that he wanted to establish a new kind of relationship with you. You remembered how sweet the times he took care of you until you got better were, and you smiled to yourself as you applied lipstick. You continued putting on lipstick just because you were too focused on him to realize that you looked like a clown. Panicked, you wiped your lips quickly once more. God. You needed something like a trial month to get used to dating the person you fell in love with.

It was enough to make your cheeks flush like someone had painted your face crimson to think about him and your first date. You hurried out of the hospital after making sure you didn't look like you'd been working long hours.

When you saw Dean grinning and watching you as you walked closer with small but rapid steps, you were fairly certain he could see how thrilled you were and how your eyes were sparkling with joy. You were afraid that he would feel stuck to you after your confession, but your anxieties were swiftly allayed when you saw him offer his arms.

As soon as Dean had you in his strong arms, your hands found him again, and he started kissing you without saying a word, making you melt with crave. His fingers grabbed your chin and kissed you quickly but passionately. In between kisses, he spoke. “I,” another kiss. “..missed,” One more kiss. “...you too.” There, you were on the clouds.

At last, you withdrew, pressing him to his car while your hands moved from his handsome face to his jacket. When he noticed that you had been acting a little playful since the morning, Dean grinned. He had insisted on waiting until you were fully recovered, even though it had been a while and you were desperate to have sex with him. However, you were skeptical if he was merely taking pleasure in watching you become a little sexually frustrated.

“You know, it seems like you could fill me at any moment.” Dean laughed as he saw himself as the one who had pressed against the car. “I'd rather get spanked on the ass before I get laid.”

You stopped kissing him and giggled at his filthy remark as you withdrew. “I'll keep that in mind.”

He inquired as he opened the car door for you, “So, how was your day?”

“It was good,” you replied, watching him work the car. “For the first time today, Robb and I—” began talking excitedly, but you stopped when Dean's smile vanished and his eyes narrowed, waiting for you to finish your sentence.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured solemnly, mimicking your voice while you bit your inner cheeks to keep from laughing at his voice.

You whispered, “Don't be jelly,” but you couldn't resist touching his hands on the steering wheel. When he was acting unreasonably jealous about Robb, it was difficult to keep your hands to yourself. After all, he was only an old friend. “I'm close friends with him. I was about to say that he and I worked together today.”

“Jealous? Me? He should be jealous of me since I'm the handsome guy in here,” he simply said. It's clear that Dean was attempting to imagine what you meant by working together. There was no doubt that he didn't enjoy the way it sounded. “Does he know about us?”

You were taken aback by the question he asked. You looked at Dean remorsefully, remembering that you hadn't discussed private matters with Robb recently since you were sick and too preoccupied with your lover lately. “Uhm... No.”

“And why is that?” Now that he was really irritated, Dean turned his head to your side, and you told him to keep his eyes on the road.

“We haven't had a proper conversation in the past few days. I was busy with healing under my beloved's hands,” you whispered softly as you lightly traced your fingers over his hand on the steering wheel. When he looked at you for a moment, you gave him an innocent smile, and the corner of his lips curled as he watched you caress his skin in your own naive manner.

“Stop giving me that look. It won't work. I would like to visit you soon so your friend may congratulate us. Is that okay?” Because you didn't want him to have concerns about your close friend, you nodded to him instead of rolling your eyes at him though you wanted to.

“Does Sam know about us?” This time, you queried suspiciously, and Dean cleared his throat, clearly considering his justification. You've got him.

“When we get there, he'll learn.” He continued, almost embarrassed, “We've been busy cuddling and spending time together, right, sweetie?”

“Robb and I haven't spoken much lately since we both were busy,” You whispered, “You didn't bother to tell something to your brother?” You couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy if Dean was reconsidering your relationship. Your hands stopped on him, even if you didn't want to stop touching him as if you were trying to start your first fight by putting physical distance.

“Hey, he's somewhat aware of what happened between us. He finally figured it out before I came to see how you were that day, after all. I felt that we should be very upfront about our relationship before talking to others. Also, I would really like to see Sam’s face when he sees us like this today.” Your heart melted at Dean's unbelievably beautiful action once he took your hand in his and kissed it.

“You're good at words, aren't you?” You gave him a smile, and he was pleased to see how quickly you softened.

“Only when my ass is hunted.” He gave you a wink, and you both chuckled.

Despite having keys, Dean pounded on the door harshly, presumably to annoy his brother when you got there. When Dean grabbed your hands in his and rubbed your skin with his thumb, you felt a sudden wave of timidity. It was funny to watch you becoming anxious, but Dean didn't say anything to stop you from being shy as you continued to nibble your inner cheeks.

Sam was cursing at Dean as he opened the door, and his hair was still shampooed, and he was only holding a tiny towel between his legs, covering his obvious part. Dean immediately let go of your hand and closed your eyes when he saw that his brother's entire body was visible, but for the small towel covering his dick. “Fucking hell, Sam!” he shouted, and you put your hands on his and loosened his touch because Dean was pressing on your eyes as though you could see something.

“Where the heck are your damn keys?” Sam said firmly, as you heard. He complained about obviously the shampoo getting in his eye.

“Just fucking go to your room and put some damn clothes on!” Dean said, ignoring his inquiry, as if he were speaking to a small child. “Bitch.”

You groaned in frustration, “Dean!” Your hands were tightly clasped around his, and Dean was making sure you didn't see anything until Sam's naked ass vanished entirely. He used his leg to close the door and forced you to move, but you were terrified of hitting a part of your body.

When he finally released his hands, you rubbed your eyes and exhaled in relief. You walked over to him and gave him a light slap on the side of his stomach. “God’s sake, when did you become so jealous? He's your brother.”

“Who's jealous?” As you sat down on the couch, he whispered to you. He immediately pulled you into his arms and squeezed your nose between his fingers, causing you to giggle. “I simply don't want anyone to be seen out in the open, wandering ass naked. I define it as 'home principles'.”

You arched an eyebrow in remembrance of the day you arrived home to examine Dean's wounds and found him walking half-naked, with only a towel wrapped around his belly, as though he was doing it intentionally. “I guess the rules don't work for you, Mr. Winchester.”

“Who knows, maybe I just wanted to impress one of my friends a little.”

You put your finger to his mouth and muttered, “Hmm,” as he approached to plant a kiss on you. “What do you say? Is she impressed?”

“Fell so hard.” His hands were already on your thigh and on top of you when he nearly groaned, taking your hands into his and giving you a tender kiss. Immediately, your leg wrapped over his hips, pulling him closer as you grasped his shirt.

You had both forgotten your surroundings, and Dean's gentle, sweet kisses had changed to forceful, passionate ones till Sam cleared his throat. It had been a long time since Dean had been inside of you the last time. “Hold on for a minute. Since when are you two eating out each other?” Clearly a little surprised as he saw you two become lost in the moment, Dean on top of you, he exclaimed, “What the hell did I miss?” Sam disgusted his brother when Dean was acting like a rabbit in heat while he was around. He frowned.

As soon as you heard Sam's puzzled but playful tone, you used all of the power you had to shove Dean away from you, causing him to groan in agony as he crushed the coach's corner. You patted his back and hastily muttered an apology.

Sam was waiting for a response with his hands folded across his chest when you pressed your lips together and gave him a bashful smile.

“We talked it out; are you blind?” Dean bent slightly and muttered this in a grumpy manner, suggesting that he needed your small massage a bit more. He also pointed out the area that needed your touch. You were yearning to slide your hands under his shirt. It would definitely feel great to be skin to skin. Only to look after him, of course.

He was already being whiny even though you hadn't pushed him that hard. You suspected that all he wanted was your attention, which you were glad to give him in whatever amount he demanded.

“Yes? Now, what are you two? Does it contain the ‘no strings attached’ thing?” Sam sat on the chair and looked at you and Dean inquisitively as he checked his phone, looking like he was waiting for a call.

Your hands on Dean's back slowed. You whispered, “What does that even mean?” Dean became tense beneath your touch.

“Don't you see what we are exactly right now?” Dean said, looking at Sam intently as though he wanted him to stop talking.

Sam gazed at you, amused by his brother's response and the warning that Dean gave him to stop talking. “You've probably heard that phrase before. It's stated on Dean's dating app profile. You just fuck and spend time in a 'no strings attached' relationship, but you never fall in love.”

When Sam explained it, your face sank, and you looked at Dean for a moment before returning your hand to yourself. After all, he never declared he loved you. Even though you haven't fucked yet, you were disheartened to see that Dean was using a dating app like this and had that term on his profile.

“Are you using a dating app?”

“No! I mean, I used to, but not anymore. Deleted already.” He throws a pillow in Sam's face angrily and explains, “Sam is just trying to be a pain in the ass right now.”

“Well, you'd better periodically check his PC and phone, Y/N. Dean probably doesn't mind if you impose some control on him.” When Sam saw that Dean was growing irate, which was a positive sign because he seemed really in love with you, he threw back the pillow to Dean with an enormous grin on his face.

You mumbled, “I don't do that!” But now you were a little curious.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. You bit his lip a little when Dean kissed you, but you couldn't help but smile into the kiss when he made a noise that sounded like an animal whining. When Sam got the message he had been waiting for from Ruby, he couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes at your goofy moment before getting up.

“Congratulations, by the way, although I must admit that I thought you and Robb would make a good couple. Friends to lovers, lovers to childhood friends to lovers... It's the healthiest way of relationship building, so I guess it always works. However, picking Dean... Good luck with that. After spending enough time with his insufferable ass, he turns a lot of women lesbians.”

When his brother was telling him that you and Robb would look fine together, Dean shot him a severe look that made him think of absurd things that were disturbing him. He should have just said ‘congratulations’ and departed. In a possessive way, Dean's hand seized your waist and drew you closer to him. “As you can see, bitch, it already worked in a really healthy way. I'm telling you, if you liked him that much, you should give it a shot. You won't work with Ruby anyways. You'll see that.”

“Dean!” you warned him as he began insulting Sam and his girlfriend. You could see he meant every word from the way he was distant while she was around.

“I'm just being honest here,” he defended himself when Sam started to tell how good Ruby was to him they kind of had chemical pull. “He's sabotaging our relationship here.”

“He's just messing with you.”

Sam lifted his hands in surrender as Dean became a little irate as Sam started to walk toward the door, all the while Dean continued to criticize his brother and tell you about the dating service he used and every detail he put there, how it was unimportant.

The last thing Dean said to Sam before he left the house was, “Don't fucking come back tonight.”

“Not on the couch, and use protection!” Sam winked at you, and before Dean could respond, he hurriedly closed the door behind him, his smile wide, your cheeks flushed.

Since you were no longer sick and had the entire night ahead of you, you actually hoped Dean would approach you and so that you could take a bit more pleasure in the relationship you had. You've been feeling somewhat sexually frustrated recently, so you wondered whether he was thinking the same thing. You couldn't help but wonder if Dean was less interested in you since he was eager to spend his nights with women before you, practically used to having fun.

“So,” you began, lowering your voice to block out the unwanted ideas that were distracting you. “What are our plans for tonight?” You moved slightly on the couch and started using both hands to rub Dean's neck.

Dean smiled broadly and quickly sat you on his lap, causing you to gasp. “Well, just like we planned, we're going to watch a good movie and spend fancy time together like the lovely couple we are.”

Even though you were a little bashful, you inquired, “And?” to find out whether Dean had any other splendid ideas with you. After all, Sam wouldn't be here all night.

As Dean watched you try to express what you really intended to happen tonight, his smile widened. Due to wanting you to know that he was real with you and that what you had had nothing to do with sex, he had been putting off your cravings for a while no matter how much he yearned to be inside you.

“And what?”

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” His hands lingered delicately around your hips as you whispered and moved your fingertips across his chest. He was just taking pleasure in your efforts, even though he got what you were suggesting.

“I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a naïve man.” You nearly rubbed against Dean as he drew your body closer to his. The way he touched you caused your body to react so intensely that you might melt at any second.

“Well, that's unfortunate. In his home, alone with him, I hoped to spend some romantic time with my boyfriend.” When you tentatively moved on him a bit, doing your hardest to seem confident even if you didn't feel like it, Dean's smirk changed to a cunning smile. He opened his legs wider to offer you extra room to move, as if he wanted you to demonstrate how much you needed him, even though you already wanted him to take action.

“I wouldn't want to shatter my girlfriend's hopes, though. Don't you think that would make me something of an awful boyfriend?” He whispered as his hands gently moved up your waist and into your shirt. You instantly shuddered when he touched you. Even though he had touched you several times, the way he was doing it now seemed different, as though your body was preparing for what was about to happen.

“I think so.” You gasped when Dean's seductive lips fiercely captured yours before you could respond, yet you instantly returned his kisses by wrapping your hands around his neck.

In between kisses, he said, “I've been patient with you, right, sweetheart?” as you frantically pushed yourself against his bulge.

“It would be better if you weren't. I missed you.”

Dean groaned in eagerness against your lips as you spoke, and his hands further squeezed your hips into his manhood to express how much he desired you. He craved this. Your bodies were on the verge of exploding, but shyness was keeping you in control, and he had control over how you moved on top of him.

When he let his hands slide into your shirt and began unbuttoning it, the sensation of his hands on your flesh made your body tremble. He was not quick nor sluggish. He was staring into your eyes when he let it go down on your shoulders. Dean looked at you with such tenderness and desire that it was enough to make your pulse race. But you were too thrilled to blink or even swallow. You just let him do all the work as you waited on top of him.

He continued to maintain eye contact even after you were down to wearing only your bra. After giving you another passionate kiss, Dean carried you to his room. As if to officially proclaim your relationship, you kissed into the smile when you knew you would finally be able to touch and feel each other completely.

Dean placed your body on his bed and used his foot to close the door behind him. When you felt the smooth sheets on your back in Dean's bed, you felt as though it was your first time with him. The first time you spent with him was on the couch, and the second time was in someone else's bed, which was not a very nice experience.

“Are you absolutely okay with this?” Breaking the kiss, Dean asked. His lips were crimson from the kissing.

“Having my attractive boyfriend between my legs? Let me think....” you said playfully while you slid your fingers under his shirt and touched him in a teasing way. “Yes.”

“Good. I don't want to wander around with blue balls anymore.”

You said, “We don't want that,” and Dean kissed you again, more urgently, as if you didn't have any time.

Dean started licking your neck after releasing his hold on your lips to let you both catch your breath. You were a bit nervous, but you didn't want this to stop. Instead of worrying about things, you did your best to give yourself permission to feel Dean in that very moment.

With your hands running shamelessly down his wide chest and muscular abs, Dean swiftly removed his shirt once you grabbed it and signaled for him to do so. Your eyes were now fixed on his body. He urged you to get up a little and unbuckle your bra as soon as his lips started to go downward. You kept telling yourself that you weren't a virgin and that you had waited a long time to do that with Dean when your body tensed instantly, but you didn't want him to feel that way. Under your lover's flawless body, you were all right.

Without waiting a second, he removed your bra and began sucking and softly biting your nipple. Now you had to take deep breaths. Dean dropped his other hand, which was kneading your other breast, and unbuttoned your jeans as he escalated his sucklings after noticing that you were slightly nervous and not unwinding or making any loud noises.

Dean quickly pulled back after he was finished with your tits and removed your jeans with your panties with a single move. He was still wearing his pants, and you were now lying on his bed, entirely naked. When he gave you a sweet yet passionate smile and stared at you intensely, you felt somewhat vulnerable. “You do realize, my dear, that this isn't the first time, right? Why are you so tense?” he whispered as he positioned himself between your legs and started gently brushing you in an attempt to soothe and calm you.

It's true that his gentle hands helped you relax.

“I'm not tense,” you said, smiling shyly but steadily looking into his eyes. Your body was already longing for more, so it would be a huge letdown if he decided to alter his mind now.

Dean started unbuckling his belt while staring straight into your eyes. The noise that filled the room made your heart race even faster, and you thought your walls were already tightening around nothingness as he swiftly removed his underwear and jeans. And now he was lying on top of you, naked too. You couldn't help but smile when you recalled how dark it was and how you didn't see each other well on your first and second times. That would be your second first time.

You grabbed Dean by the neck and started kissing him, allowing all of your worries and negative thoughts to subside as a wave of bliss swept over your whole being. Everything you wanted, dreamt about, and loved was yours. You could tell Dean cared about you even though he didn't say the same three words.

You were reminded of Dean's hardness as he positioned himself between your legs and promptly returned your kisses. This time, you were unable to stop moaning into his lips and wildly lifting your hips to get him to take charge and enter you right away.

“Dean,” you protested frantically into his lips, causing his cock to ache with desire, but he drew back a bit instead of thrusting inside you and spreading your legs more. Under there, you felt like you were leaking.

Dean ran his tongue over your entire body. When his lips moved closer to your abdomen and he didn't stop, you stiffened up again. Your legs shook as you realized he was about to place his head between your legs, right there, so you covered yourself with your hands on your pussy to stop him in his path. You had no clue what he was planning to do.

You said, “What are you doing?” When you covered your pussy with both hands to prevent Dean from sucking you off, he was perplexed.

“What do you suppose I'll do, my beloved? I have to taste you.” Dean swiftly grabbed your hands without waiting for you to speak, and suddenly there was nothing between his face and your pussy. You arched your back.

“Stay still, baby,” he murmured, sounding almost frustrated. “You're gonna love this.”

As you remained still beneath Dean, his lips were now on your clit, and his hands were locked on yours, making sure you didn't interrupt his little enjoyment. Your back arched instantly as his warm lips found your most sensitive spots and attacked your clit to taste you. You moaned aloud as Dean stuck his tongue out and gave your clit a hard lick, and you were now unable to stop suppressing your voice. Your moans became louder the more he nibbled you, sucked you, and kissed you there.

The little, soft noises you were making under him as he swallowed your lovely pussy were making Dean hard as a stone, even though he never liked noisy partners. Once he entered you, he knew it wouldn't take long to reach his satisfaction. Dean continued to suck you in order to ensure that you were thoroughly relaxed. He held himself back and made sure you enjoyed the procedure even though he longed to touch himself when you were arching your back and placing your legs on his shoulders without even realizing it.

You attempted to warn him just before you came. “Wait, Dean! Dean, I'm almost—” As your walls constricted and his lips and tongue continued their wonderful agony, you moaned and attempted to shove him off by also trying to get your hands free of him, but Dean was now holding you still even tighter, intensifying his attacks on your clit.

Rather, he went on to lick your pussy while moving with greater force on your clit. Your legs on his wide shoulders shook wildly as you did your best to break free of his tight grip, but as he pushed his tongue into your wet hole, you reached your peak. It was even more intense than the times he fingered you. This time, you extended your legs a bit wider and started to lift your hips to ensure that he kept his lovely, skilled lips there until you rode your orgasm, rather than attempting to push him away. When you felt him grumbling as he made sure to swallow your come and continued sucking you even after you became too sensitive, you couldn't stop moaning.

As you fought to control your breathing, Dean gave you a gentle kiss on the thighs and climbed on top of you once again. Dean's warmth was enough to warm you up even when you felt cold.

“You have a really sweet taste, honeycomb. From now on, we should do that frequently,” Dean stated, causing your cheeks to flush. “Taste yourself, sweetheart; see how delicious you taste.”

Now that his tongue was inside your lips, Dean groaned as you gave him a more intense kiss as he tasted your own cum. The intensity of your kisses increased with every second. You stiffened up uncontrollably again when Dean grabbed his pulsing cock into his own hands and drew back a bit. You didn't have any second thoughts, or there was nothing wrong. You were desperate for him to enter you. But you couldn't help but become a little nervous.

Dean gave his thick cock a few more strokes while spreading your legs a bit wider. You became excited when you realized he wanted to get inside of you without using condoms. In any case, you were on the pill.

Uncertain of what to do at this point, you grabbed him by the shoulders as he positioned himself between your legs. He was staring into your eyes as he slightly pushed himself within, but you tensed up and pulled back without noticing.

Eagerly, “Come on,” he urged. “You're wet enough to take me. Just relax.”

You said, “Sorry,” in an apologetic tone, afraid that you would spoil this wonderful moment.

“It's okay.” Dean responded gently, “Just look at me,” but it was obvious that his cock hurt and that he needed to be inside you now.

You looked into his eyes as you moved slightly beneath him and placed your hands over his back. You hoped your flushed cheeks and messy hair didn't make you appear ridiculous.

Dean pushed his cock within you without waiting any longer after giving himself another stroke. You were fighting to keep from nailing his back while holding your breath. Dean was thick, but not particularly long. It was just the head inside of you when you whimpered.

You frantically said, “Dean, slow down!” as he kept pushing his cock. Even though you were bizarrely more at ease the previous time, this time seemed different. You were a little worried up because you wanted him to feel good. Perhaps you should have offered to give his cock the same mouth action. Is it appropriate to make the offer now? You didn't know.

“I'm not even moving fast. Calm down, you're almost there,” he said. “You're doing so good.”

His praises caused your body to relax a bit. However, your walls clenched around him due to the pressure his cock provided. It seemed as though you were on the verge of experiencing your orgasm once again. Dean looked at you as soon as he sensed that. “Don't come yet.” But your body was out of control.

Dean groaned, realizing that despite his best attempts, you were a little too sensitive and tense at the moment. Then, with a single thrust, he shoved his hardness inside of you, making you moan and bite your lips fiercely. His hands were buried on each side of your hips as he grumbled, nearly in agony, “Fuck, how are you so tight?”

The way you were tightening around Dean and staring at him with your gorgeous red cheeks didn't make him any softer. You were both like teens now, but he needed to take his time and enjoy that moment with you. "Will you just quit clenching, sweetie? You're a lot tighter already." He said, “I won't be able to hold it back,” as Dean withdrew slightly and thrust in you again.

You responded, “I'm really trying,” but you knew you wouldn't last long.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and without wasting any time, Dean started to fuck you quickly and deeply after realizing that you couldn't control your body at the moment.

“You feel so good around me, so perfect,” Dean said, groaning against your lips and placing his hand on your chin, amazed at how tight you were around him. “Are you mine?”

He kept slapping his hips into yours, but you were just able to moan and wrap your legs around his hips. “Always,” you murmured. Your heart was pounding with nervousness and thrill as the room filled with the filthy noises made by skin contact, yet you continued to stare into Dean's eyes in awe at how much he was having fun fucking you. Your spirit purred with joy as you could see him getting satisfaction from the way he tightened his grip on your chin and his increasing speed.

“Dean!” you cried out in despair as he aggressively and deeply drove his cock inside of you, causing the bed to shake and the walls to slam.

“Don't come yet, sweetheart!” Your walls suddenly clutched around him so tightly that you couldn't contain yourself, and your orgasm hit harder this time. When you realized you hadn't given him exactly what he wanted, you felt worry growing.

As your climax continued to make you quiver with ecstasy, you frantically exclaimed, “I'm sorry!” as you continued to move beneath him as though you could flee, but Dean's firm grip on your hips prevented you from moving.

With a loud moan, Dean buried his head on your neck and started painting your walls with his white ropes since he could no longer hold himself back. Your eyes widened in surprise as you felt his thick cum in your walls while you were still shaking from orgasm and realized he didn't pull back this time. You shivered as you felt him spilling since you didn't think he would, but as you focused on his moans and how he jerked inside of you, your lips gently curved into a smile. The way he kept you motionless as you both rode your orgasm was so intense and fulfilling that you could come again, even though.

Dean offered you a reassuring smile and a hard kiss on the neck after your orgasms had subsided. “Well, it looks like we have too much to do with your sensitivity.”

You smiled shyly at him. “You shouldn't have teased me for that long.”

Dean laughed, then put a blanket over your bodies and grabbed you in his arms after kissing your forehead strongly and affectionately. You were already feeling drowsy. “Look on the bright side. Practice makes perfect, right?”

You smiled and murmured, “We'll see about that,” as you drew nearer to him, prepared to get some sleep.

Observing that you were already ready to go to sleep, Dean assumed that you wouldn't be prepared for the second round. He should undoubtedly have needed to work on that as well. His arms were drawing tighter around your body. You realized that you couldn't be happier right then and there.

A/N: It's not very good, sorry for that but I hope you like it. Let me know what you think pls <3333

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formula-nyoom · 8 months ago

Text

Rookie Reflections | LS2

Platonic! Logan Sargent x Rookie!Reader

Summary: Being the only new addition to the grid, it may seem intimidating to try and introduce yourself to the other drivers. Logan remembers exactly what it's like to be the new rookie and doesn't want a repeat of what happened to him to happen to anyone else.

A/N: Pronouns weren’t specified so I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible. I still haven’t decided if I want to write in 2nd or 3rd person, it really depends on the fic/request. Previous reader inserts I have written have been done in 2nd person so I defaulted to that with this fic, but do let me know which one you prefer. Logan, my favorite driver, I’m glad my first request is for him. Also I have no hate towards Daniel, it just made a lot more sense to me for the reader to take his seat.

Silly season didn’t come with a lot of shake ups like people expected it to. The only team to switch up their driver line up for the upcoming season was RB, with Daniel being replaced by the newest Formula 2 champion after not delivering the results Red Bull had wanted from him.

You had met Yuki for the first time during the car launch before pre-season testing, but with all the cameras, interviews, and excitement surrounding the new car launch, you were unable to find the time to properly get to know each other. You had hoped to get a chance to maybe sit down with Yuki and get to know your new teammate, but now in Bahrain with all the drivers in one place it seemed that all of them had already split off into their pre-established friend groups that had been built up over years of racing alongside each other, Yuki included.

That’s the thing with being the only new driver for the season: All the other drivers already knew each other well enough that you felt too intimidated to approach any of them. Going to Formula 2 where you knew almost all the drivers to Formula 1 where you knew no one, it was like being the new kid at school. And that seemed even more evident during the pre-season photoshoot.

Yuki still had some last bits of data to go over with his engineer so you arrived at the photoshoot without your teammate. While you did arrive early, most of the drivers were already there, either talking with each other or members of their team. A few gave you curious glances, maybe an awkward smile or two, but none felt the need to approach. Not wanting to risk bothering anyone, you decided to find a spot secluded from the various groups of people while you waited for either Yuki to show up or for the photoshoot to start. Maybe when the photographer started to position people for the photos, you could possibly strike up a conversation with whoever was placed near you. But for now, you felt content standing off to the side where no one would really approach you. Or so you thought.

Logan had forgotten something in the Williams garage, making him arrive at the photoshoot after Alex. And while he could have walked over to his teammate, who was currently chatting with George, he noticed you standing off to the side. You were away from everyone to where you wouldn’t get in the way as you scrolled through your phone.

Logan knows that move. He did it many times during his rookie season because of how out of place he felt. But he also wasn’t the only rookie during his season, unlike you who was the only new person to the grid. He can probably guess how nervous or out of place you may seem. Logan knows that feeling. He hates that feeling and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Maybe that’s why he had decided to approach you. Or maybe it was because he didn’t have anyone else to talk to since Alex was busy talking to George, and Oscar was busy talking to Lando. Either way, he thought it was a good idea to introduce himself.

“Hey,” Logan said, getting your attention. “You’re the new RB driver, right?”

Logan already knew the answer to that question, but he thought that was a better question to ask than pointing out the fact that you’re the new rookie.

“Yea, I am.” You said. Guess you were wrong about people not approaching you as you looked at the man standing before you.

“I’m Logan.” He said, holding out his hand for you to shake. You already knew his name before he introduced himself. Hell, you knew all drivers names on the grid but that was another intimidating reason why you hadn’t tried to approach anyone.

“I’m (Y/N).” You said, shaking Logan’s hand.

“So, are you excited for the upcoming season?” Logan asked.

“Yea. The car seems to be a good contender with the testing we’ve done so far. Hopefully I’ll be able to score some points by the end of the season.”

“What makes you think you won’t get points at the beginning?” Logan asked.

“Well I am the rookie this season. I’m still getting used to the car, it’s a huge difference from the F2 car I was driving last year. Plus everyone else has been racing longer than I have. It's gonna take me a while to catch up.” You explained.

“Oh come on, don’t doubt yourself this early. Trust me, it doesn’t help.” Logan said. You shrugged.

“I guess you’re right. I mean, I’m gonna try my best no matter what, but the highest I can see myself getting for the first race is P15.” You told him.

“That’s a good start. “ Logan said. He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The two of you ended up talking about what you both did over the winter break and your expectations for the season until the photographer called for the photoshoot to start. You hadn’t even realized Yuki had arrived until the photographer positioned you two next to each other.

“I saw you and Logan talking earlier. I hope it was a good conversation.” He whispered as you waited for the photographer to take a picture.

“He was just introducing himself. We talked about our expectations for the season.” You told him. Yuki smiled a bit.

“Logan’s always been nice. I’m glad you’re getting to know some of the other drivers.”

~~~

“Come on Yuki, pick up!” You mumbled as the call went to voicemail again. After pre-season testing had wrapped up, you had finally managed to get to know Yuki by going out to get dinner together with the rest of the team. He had promised that the two of you would walk together through the paddock on the first day of the season, but after arriving at the entrance you saw no sign of your teammate. And the fact that he wasn’t answering his phone didn’t help either. But looking around towards all the cars pulling in towards the entrance, you did however see Logan arriving.

“Logan!” You quickly walked over to him as he got closer to the entrance.

“Hey. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with your team?” He asked, noticing the lack of anyone from RB with you.

“Well me and Yuki were supposed to walk in together, but I can’t find him anywhere and he’s not answering my calls.” You said. You looked past the turnstiles at the entrance to the paddock. “I don’t really want to walk in by myself.”

“Do you want me to walk in with you?” Logan asked. You looked back at him.

“If it’s not too much to ask.” You said. Logan just shook his head and smiled.

“It’s no bother.” He said. He gently ushered you towards the entrance and the two of you walked through. It was an understatement to say that you were nervous to greet the cheering fans that stood by the barriers with things to sign. But knowing that Logan was right next you signing things as well and taking pictures with fans made you less nervous. You even got to take some pictures with him and fans as well.

“If I wore all these friendship bracelets in the car, I think I would add an extra pound.” You joked as the two of you walked past the various team garages.

“Soon you’re gonna end up having a full storage closet at your house just full of stuff that fans have given you.” Logan said. You smiled at that idea.

“Hopefully I won’t develop carpal tunnel from all the stuff I’m gonna have to sign over the year.” Good thing being a Formula 1 driver consists more of driving cars than signing things.”

“You say that now, but just wait until the RB merchandise team sits you down in a room filled with driver cards you have to sign. Your wrist is going to be so sore afterwards.” Logan said. You let out a chuckle.

“(Y/N)!” You turned to see Yuki, coming from the RB hospitality, running over to the two of you. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry. They put me in the press conference at the last minute. I had to come early.” Yuki explained.

“It’s ok Yuki. Logan walked in with me.” You said. You turned back to Logan. “Thank you, by the way. I should probably go see my team.”

“Like I said, it was no bother. I’d be happy to walk the paddock with you anytime.” He said. “I’ll see you two on the track.”

He waved goodbye and then headed to the William’s garage as you headed with Yuki back to the RB hospitality to get ready for the upcoming practice sessions.

~~~

“Ok (Y/N). We’ve been knocked out of Q1. You are P17.” Your race engineer said through the radio as the qualifying session ended and you slowed your car down for a cool down lap.

“Not the result I had hoped for, but it’s something I can improve upon. Did Yuki make it to Q2?” You asked, making your way into the pit lane.

“Yes, Yuki did make it into Q2.” Your engineer said.

“That’s good. Hope he can make it into Q3.” You pulled into your designated pitlane and flipped up your visor to let some air into your helmet as the pit crew pulled your car into the garage.

After changing out of your race suit and fireproofs, you put on a pair of headphones and joined the crew in watching Q2. You were happy to see that Logan made it into Q2 as well, and was secretly hoping he would make it into Q3 along with Yuki. Both of them did good laps during Q2 but Yuki unfortunately was only able to place P11. Logan barely managed to get by into Q3, but couldn’t place any higher and ended up in front of your teammate, placing P10 for tomorrow’s race. After congratulating Yuki on his placement, you left the RB garage to go look for Logan to do the same thing. You didn’t have to look far, as the American driver was exiting the William’s garage as you approached.

“Hey, nice driving today!” You said, giving Logan’s shoulder a congratulatory pat.

“Thanks. I’m shocked I was able to make it into Q3. I thought I was going to get knocked out in Q2, I didn’t expect Lance to get his lap time deleted.” Logan said. “Where’d you place?”

“P17. I wasn’t able to gain enough speed on my last lap to get myself to a higher placement.” You said. “But that’s ok. I just need to overtake the 7 cars in front of me to get to P10 and get into the points. How hard can that be?”

You laughed, your last sentence meaning to be a joke. Logan let out a small chuckle, but he was taking what you said seriously.

“I think you can do it. But only do it after I’ve overtaken a couple cars myself. I’d also like to get some points during the race.” He said.

“Deal!”

~~~

It was officially race day and your nerves seemed to be bouncing as fast as the cars that would be on track soon. You had felt confident throughout the week, being on the track and going over data with the team. But with the race starting in a couple hours, the fact that you were about to debut in your first Formula One race was starting to become very real.

“You squeeze that water bottle any tighter, it’s gonna explode.” You were brought out of your spiraling thoughts by Logan as he approached you from the side. Looking down, you did see that the water bottle you were holding was almost ready to burst from the steel grip you had on it.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking about the race today.” You said, loosening your grip on the bottle.

In a similar scenario to pre-season testing, the two of you were waiting to start the drivers parade.

“It’s ok to be nervous about your first race. Every driver is.” He said.

“What if I crash the car?” You asked. Logan shook his head.

“You won’t.”

“What if I can’t overtake any cars and finish last?”

“You won’t finish last.”

“What if-”

“Hey.” Logan placed his hands on your shoulders and made you look at him. “You’re going to be fine. You drove well during testing and practice. You can overtake the cars in front of you. And even if you finish last, so what? It’s your first race. You’re going to make mistakes and that’s ok.” Logan said. His hands on your shoulder and the speech he just gave you seemed to steel your nervous a bit as you took in what he said.

“Just try to have fun. Can you promise me that?” Logan asked. He held up his pinkie and you almost laughed at the childlike implications. But the serious look on Logan’s face stopped you. You linked your pinkie with his and nodded.

“I promise.”

The two of you ended up staying next to each other during the drivers parade, waving to fans as the truck drove by. Interviews were also happening during the parade, and with you being the new rookie, you had to be interviewed.

“So (Y/N), you're about to make your Formula 1 debut in your first Formula 1 race. How are you feeling?” The interviewer asked.

“I’m both very nervous and very excited. I’m starting at the back of the grid, but I’m gonna try to do my best.” You said.

“I know, with being the newest addition to the grid, you may feel like you stand out. Besides your teammate Yuki, have there been any other drivers that you’ve gotten to know during pre-season testing or this weekend?”.

“Logan actually introduced himself to me during pre-season testing and we’ve gotten to know each other a bit.” You told the interviewer. “It feels a bit intimidating being surrounded by these great drivers that I’ve always hoped to have a chance to drive alongside, so I’m really grateful to Logan for being someone on the grid that I can talk to and get to know, besides Yuki of course.”

“Have you guys talked about anything in particular? Any expectations for your first race?”

“Logan actually gave me a really good pep talk before the drivers parade. It really helped calm my nerves down a bit. I’m gonna take Logan’s advice and try to have fun.” You said with a smile. The interviewer thanked you for your time and moved on to interview a different driver as you made your way back over to Logan. After waving to a bunch of fans, the parade concluded and you and the rest of the drivers got off the truck.

“What are you going to do during this race?” Logan asked you before the two of you departed to get ready for the race.

“Have fun!” You said.

“That’s right.” He gave your shoulder a reassuring pat and left for the William’s garage while you headed back to RB, your nerves seemingly having lessened.

Logan’s pep talk seemed to be exactly what you needed. You ended up finishing the race in P11, just out of the points but only two spots behind Yuki.

“(Y/N) that was a fantastic first race! Well done!” Your engineer's voice came through the radio as you waved while driving around the track.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much! That was so much fun! I couldn’t have done it without you or the team!” You said enthusiastically as you pulled into parc ferme. You sat in the car for a couple seconds, taking in the feeling of making it through your first Formula One race. Then, you took the wheel out and stepped out of the car.

Some of the pit crew workers gave you pats on the back or the shoulder, congratulating you on making it through your first race. As your eyes scanned the pit lane, looking for your team, they landed on the familiar America-decorated helmet of Logan.

“Logan!” You called as you jogged over to him. His eyes lit up at your approach and met you halfway.

“Nice one champ! P11 on debut!” He said, raising his hand for a high five before bringing you in for a brief congratulatory hug.

“I was so close to getting into points but I couldn’t catch up. You drove amazingly though! Congrats on P5!” You told him.

“Hey, don’t put yourself down for being “just” out of the points. Next race, you and I are going to be in the top 10.” He said. “Did you have fun?”

“Yea!” You exclaimed. Both your smiles seemed to grow.

“I told you! Come on, let’s go get weighed and you can tell me everything about the race.” Logan slung his arm over your shoulder as he led you over to the weigh stations.

The two of you spent the rest of the night recounting each of your guys' events of the race, every overtake and every mistake either of you made. Eventually exhaustion started to hit both of you and the two of you decided to head back to your hotel rooms.

“Thank you.” You said to Logan as you stood infront of your room after Logan offered to walk you back.

“For what?” He asked.

“For introducing yourself to me during pre-season testing. I honestly didn’t think I would be able to get to know anyone on the grid this season. All the other drivers seem to know each other really well or are just really intimidating.” You said, fidgeting with your fingers for a bit before looking back up at him “But I’m really glad to say that you're the first friend I’ve made on the grid.”

Logan’s smile seemed to lower and you grew concerned. But he noticed this and quickly change his expression to reassurance.

“I know how hard it is to make friends in this sport and I also know how isolating it can be. I didn’t want what happened in my rookie season to happen to you.” He told you. “I’m glad that you’re my friend too.”

You smiled, touched by what he said and happy that he considered you a friend as well. You held up your pinkie towards him.

“Promise that we’ll both be in the points next race?”

He linked your pinkie with his and matched your smile.

“I promise.”

#formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #logan sargent x reader #platonic grid x reader

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