#but I share it with you all to do as you please
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Back Off, He's Mine
Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You put an agent in her place after she flirts with Bucky.
Word Count: Over 2.5k
Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader or Bucky), protective vibes, catty behavior, possessive vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Inspired by an anon ask asking for Bucky's wife to stick up for him. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky stared at you from across the break room table, his pretty blue eyes not blinking as you looked back at him. The two of you were locked in a lengthy staring contest and you didn’t want to lose. But as the air in the room began to dry your eyes and he flashed you a beautiful smile, you couldn’t stop yourself from blinking. And the moment you did, he struck.
Snatching the last bit of the beloved pastry right from the middle of the table.
“Damn it,” you muttered, crossing your arms when he chuckled. “You cheated.”
“Oh, yeah?” he smirked, making a show of taking a slow bite. Your eyes followed his tongue licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. The bastard made eating look sexy and he didn’t even take a full bite. He was taunting you. “How did I do that?”
“You cheated by existing.” You gestured to him, your smoking hot husband in his black t-shirt and tactical pants. To the person who made those clothes, you saluted them. “And you have serum in your veins, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have to blink as much as I do and that’s an unfair advantage.”
He chuckled again, graciously passing over the last small bite of the pastry. Your eyes lit up in thanks, popping it in your mouth with a moan. It was true love to share food like that. “I don’t think that’s how the serum works,” he teased. “And you’re a goddess, so isn’t that cheating, too?”
“Okay, but I’m not actually a goddess,” you countered, though he did make you feel like one.
His eyes softened, leaning across the table and crooking his finger. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered, kissing your lips once you met him halfway.
Before you could deepen the kiss, a shrill voice rang out in the breakroom. “Sergeant Barnes! There you are!”
Bucky’s cheek twitched as he settled back in his seat. The voice echoing in the room would’ve been enough to make anyone wince, but his enhanced hearing made it worse. He worked hard to block out noises so he’d be comfortable, and your eyes instantly narrowed at the person who brought him discomfort.
You recognized her after a moment, a pretty woman who would likely fall out of her top if she sneezed too hard. She hadn't worked there long, but she had her eye on Bucky from the start. She always flirted with him, tried to stand close to him and push her chest close, and he always dropped in the conversation that he was a married man. Apparently she didn’t get the hint that he wasn't interested. Either that or she was into taken men.
“Hi, agent,” Bucky politely said.
“Agent. Always so formal,” she giggled, dragging a chair over from another table and taking a seat without asking. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Barnes. You're a hard man to track down.”
Bubbly agents didn’t bother you in the slightest. You appreciated anyone who could stay upbeat in the line of work you dealt with. It wasn’t the enamored look in her eyes either that bothered you because you understood people wanting Bucky and you were secure in your relationship. No, what bothered you was that he had clearly been kissing his wife and she pointedly avoided looking at you after interrupting. That was just rude.
It also bothered you how uncomfortable Bucky looked when she moved her chair closer to him, his shoulders stiff and smile not reaching his eyes.
“Been spending some time with my wife,” he said proudly, reaching across the table to take your hand. You dipped your head down with a small smile, your heart still doing that funny flip like it had since the moment you met. He even managed to clear out the room so you two could be alone. “We were just finishing up.”
She didn’t spare you a glance as she set a hand on his metal arm. His cheek twitched again, squeezing your hand. It took a lot of effort for you to not knock her back from the table for touching him without his permission. “Excuse me,” you began, your tone even. “I don’t-”
“Do you think you could spar with me later?” she cut you off and either didn’t see or ignored your glare, leaning forward in her seat to make her chest stick out more. Bucky didn’t look. “I’ve been having trouble with a couple of moves and you’re so good at them,” she added, her eyes on him like she wanted to eat him up.
Which wasn’t going to happen.
“I don't think…” he stopped when her fingers trailed higher.
“Please, Sergeant?” she pouted.
Your eyes went back to your husband to get a read on him and make sure he was okay. He wasn't. His smile still didn't look right and his back was ramrod straight. Squeezing his hand seemed to ground him since he breathed a little easier, though your anger was simmering.
“I, um, don’t mind sparring if you really need the help,” Bucky began, gently pulling his arm away. “But you interrupted my time with my wife.”
Her smile faltered while yours widened. Bucky didn't like anyone cutting you off, whether that was your time together or interrupting you speaking. “What?” she asked.
“Hi there. Been sitting here the whole time.” You wiggled your fingers when she finally looked your way. “Excuse us for a second,” you said, avoiding her stare the way she avoided yours. “Bucky, do you think you can wait outside? This agent and I need to have a little chat.”
Your husband looked like he was trying not to laugh and you would take laughter over discomfort any day of the week. “Be nice if you can,” he teased, pressing a featherlight kiss to your hand. “I love you, baby,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” you whispered, something unspoken passing between the two of you.
Defending each other was second nature, always would be.
Bucky didn’t immediately leave the room when he stood up. Instead he rounded the table so he could bend down and kiss your mouth, too. You smiled as it lingered, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t keep me waiting out there long, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered.
“I won't, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.
Straightening up, he gave a small nod to the agent for her sake. “Come find me later if you still want to talk about sparring. Maybe I can find someone for you.”
“Okay, Sergeant,” she smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That look wouldn’t last.
You waited until Bucky was gone to face the agent, who stopped smiling the second your husband was out of sight. Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms and asked point-blank, “You trying to fuck my husband?”
The wide-eyed expression was priceless when she realized you weren't asking as a joke. “What are you... I just asked him to spar,” she tried to brush it off.
“Please, don't insult my intelligence,” you said. It was beneath both of you to do so. “I get why you want him. Besides being one of the sexiest creatures to ever exist, he’s a good man. Polite, probably treats you with respect. More than most of the men around here.”
She shifted away from you and nodded. “He's a nice guy.”
“He is,” you agreed. They didn't make men like Bucky anymore. “And I’m not going to tell you to stop hitting on my husband, but I highly suggest that you back off. At the very least, don’t throw yourself at him right in front of me. It’s sad.”
“Why?” She had the nerve to smirk. “Worried I’ll steal him away?”
You smirked, too. She had balls and you respected that, but this wasn’t a battle she’d win. “Steal him away? You make it sound like he’s a toy and he isn’t. He’s a man, my man,” you said, holding up your hand so she could get a good look at your wedding ring. “And you are not a threat in the slightest. Our bond is much stronger than that.”
Her smirk went away fast, replaced by something sad. You almost felt sorry for her until she said, “Jealousy isn't a good look on you. It’s kind of… ugly.”
You scoffed. If she wanted to play, you’d play. “Jealous of what? You hitting on a married man who doesn't want you?” you asked, not feeling guilty in the slightest when her face fell. “I’m not telling you to back off because I'm jealous. I told you that because you’re only going to embarrass yourself if you keep trying and you’re going to make my husband more uncomfortable than he already is. I don’t like people making my husband uncomfortable.”
An unspoken threat hung in the air long enough that she swallowed. “And how exactly did I make him uncomfortable?”
“Besides you hitting on him, you touched him without making sure it was okay to do so,” you answered, letting a bit of venom seep into your tone. Bucky went years without autonomy and consent was important to you. He suffered enough and didn’t need to deal with things like this. “I’d hope as an agent you’d be able to pick up on subtle body language cues enough to know that he didn’t want you touching him.”
“And how do you know he doesn’t want me touching him? Are you a mind reader or something?” she sneered, flicking a nonexistent piece of flint from her shirt. “If he really didn't want me touching him, he would've said so. And guess what? He didn't say a word.”
You saw red, your hands curling into fists. For her to ignore the nonverbal cues… “I know my husband. I know Bucky. He doesn’t want you touching him nor does he want to start anything with you because he’s extremely faithful. He won’t throw away a loving, trusting marriage for a quick fuck or doomed affair,” you stated. She bristled, but tried to recover. “If you make a pass at him, he’ll reject you. He’ll do it as respectfully as he can because he’s a good guy, but he will reject you. That’s a promise.”
“Because he loves you so much. Jesus, what makes you so special?” she spat, surprising you both. But the longer you looked at her, the more she deflated under your stare. “I mean… He doesn’t say much to me, but when he does it’s always about you. ‘My wife this’ and ‘my wife that’ and he’s always so… proud.” She shook her head. “Do you know how lucky you are?”
You did feel a little sorry for her now. Crushes hurt, but better that she hurt now and heal than to keep pushing and hurt more later. “I’m not special. We just love each other, that’s all. And, trust me, I’m aware that I’m very lucky to have him. Someone who gets me and will fight for and beside me,” you said, a loving smile touching your lips. You hoped Bucky was listening outside the door. “There’s a guy out there waiting for you, but that guy isn’t Bucky. So don’t lower yourself by trying to go after someone who’s taken.”
She side-eyed you, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “And what if I don’t stop?” she asked.
You giggled humorously, all sympathy gone. The agent actually looked nervous at that sound and you were glad because you weren't going to play nice. “Well, if you don't back off, Bucky could make a complaint about you harassing him or at least request that you’re transferred. Maybe fired since you’re still in your probationary period,” you began, looking at your wedding band when she began to protest. “At the very least, I could have your schedule rearranged so you can spar with me. You see, Bucky taught me a few moves and if a bone or two breaks, well…”
It wasn't an empty threat either. Bucky loved fighting for you, but you could hold your own. It turned him on.
Her eyes darted to the door when you stood up and stretched. “Listen, you don't need to-”
“But do you know what I'm going to do for now?” you asked, cutting her off the way she cut you off. “I'm going to take my husband to one of the interrogation rooms and suck the soul out of his body through his incredible cock,” you smiled sweetly, taking pleasure in the sputtering sound she made. “And after he recovers, he’ll have the choice of bending me over the table and either eating or fucking my pussy. He’ll probably choose both. He’s pretty insatiable.”
She got to her feet, too, and you half expected to see smoke come out of her ears. “I don't need to hear–”
“What? Does hearing that Bucky is going to fuck me and not you make you uncomfortable?” you asked innocently before you got close to her. “Shove your tits in my husband's face again or touch him without his explicit consent, and I won't just make you uncomfortable. I’ll make your life a living hell.”
While you lost the staring contest to Bucky earlier, you very much won against this agent. She stood perfectly still and averted her gaze as you pushed your chair in. “Is that a threat?” she mumbled.
A cliche question, so why not give a cliche answer? “It’s a promise,” you smiled, heading to the door. “Oh, if he does decide to spar with you, I expect you to apologize and behave yourself. I’ll hear about it if you don't.”
Bucky leaned against the wall, waiting for you as you exited the room. He looked over the moon. “We’re going to one of the interrogation rooms, huh?”
You giggled, taking his hand as your cheeks warmed. “Of course, that's what you took from that.”
“How could I not?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Thanks, baby. I thought I dropped enough hints that she’d back off.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” you assured him. He deserved to be comfortable at work. If some guy kept hitting on you, he would've stepped in, too.
“You think she’ll back off now?”
“I think so, but you tell me if she doesn't,” you said. You’d keep an eye on her, too, just in case. And if she pushed again, you’d put her back in her place. Maybe you’d make her listen while Bucky fucked you. With his permission, of course. “So, which room should we go to?”
He chuckled, the sound a happy one in the hall. “Room B. We can be as loud as we want,” he replied, tugging you closer. “I’ll show you just how special you are to me.”
Heat filled your body, anticipating how good it would feel to have him fuck your throat and more. “My body is ready, Sergeant,” you teased, shrieking when he picked you up and ignoring the whistles from other agents that walked by.
They were used to the shenanigans of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes by now.
And you couldn't wait for more.
Just like we deserve a loving Bucky, he deserves love, too. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#sebastian stan#the winter soldier#husband!bucky barnes#sebastian stan x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#mr. and mrs. barnes#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#bucky fic#bucky x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Best Friend | Lando Norris x Reader Summary: This is what it feels like to be in love with your best friend
Warnings: None :)) Just fluffy moments in your relationship with Lando!
“You promised not to laugh,” Lando said, pouting as you tried—and failed—to hide your grin behind your hand. The corners of your mouth betrayed you, threatening to give way to the laugh you were desperately holding back.
“I’m not laughing,” you managed to choke out, though your eyes told a very different story.
“You’re being mean,” he all but whines.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said, standing up from the bed and reaching to ruffle his curls, “It’s really not that bad.”
It was that bad.
His haircut was…well, let’s just say the barber had done him no favors. The fade was patchy and uneven, and the length was so short it bordered on tragic. But despite the mess, he looked undeniably cute—though you weren’t about to let him off the hook without teasing him first.
“Now you’re just lying,” he muttered, his lips pursing as he entwined his fingers with yours.
“I’m not,” you insisted, cupping his face with your free hand, thumb brushing gently over his cheek. “Look, it’s easy to cover with a cap, and your helmet does all the work during races anyway. No one will even notice.”
“You noticed.”
“I live with you,” you said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I see you every day.” Another kiss, this time on the other cheek. “I notice everything about you.”
A soft, breathy chuckle escaped him as he let his head rest on your shoulder. “Do you think I still look pretty?”
“You always look pretty,” you assured him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He pulled you closer, his embrace warm and comforting. “No barber could ever ruin that.”
A beat passed, then you added with a teasing smile, “But, for the record, your hair does look like shit, bubba.”
He laughed, the sound filling the room and lighting up your heart. You had a feeling his favorite cap was going to get a lot of mileage in the days ahead—or at least until he decided his hair was back to normal.
You were typing away on your laptop, racing against deadlines before the upcoming race weekend. Clearing your workload now meant you could fully enjoy cheering on your boyfriend as he gave it his all on home turf. Normally, staying focused was easy—especially with the promise of a weekend spent as his biggest cheerleader, a role you thoroughly loved.
But today? Today, your boyfriend was making it very difficult to get anything done.
“Lando,” you warned, your tone a mix of exasperation and amusement, “I swear, if you don’t let go, you’ll be at Silverstone alone.”
Lando was currently bent over, arms wrapped snugly around you as you worked at the dining table. Every so often, he would hum some random tune and sway side to side, forcing you to sway along with him.
“I thought you liked my hugs,” he teased, placing a kiss on the top of your head. You could practically feel the mischievous smile on his lips—he knew exactly what he was doing.
“I do like your hugs,” you said, shooting him a pout, “But only when they don’t mess with me while I’m working.”
He chuckled, planting another kiss to your hair, clearly pleased with his antics, before finally releasing you and plopping down in the chair next to yours.
“Oh! I’m free!��� you exclaimed dramatically, throwing your arms up in mock surprise before sticking your tongue out at him. Without missing a beat, you turned back to your laptop, ready to dive back into work.
For a while, the room was peaceful. He sat quietly, scrolling through his phone, the occasional TikTok audio or soft giggle breaking the silence. It was nice—a balance between shared space and focus.
And then he got bored.
You could feel it before you saw it. The subtle shift in his energy, the way his chair creaked as he stood, the deliberate slowness of his steps. You didn’t look up, hoping he’d wander off to his game room or find something else to occupy himself.
But, of course, that wasn’t what was going to happen.
He stopped behind you, standing there silently as if planning his next move. You kept typing, pretending not to notice, but your fingers hesitated when he suddenly dragged your chair back from the table.
“Lando, wha—!” You gasped, only for him to scoop you up, lifting you into his arms.
“Hey!” you protested, half-laughing, as he carried you bridal style to the couch. He plopped you down gently before settling himself on top of you, his head resting right over your heart.
With his weight anchoring you and his arms snug around your waist, your laptop—and your deadlines—were officially forgotten.
You let out a soft sigh, your hands instinctively beginning to draw lazy circles on his back. “You’re so lucky I tolerate you,” you teased, your tone light but affectionate.
“You love me, actually,” he countered, his voice muffled against your shirt. You could feel his lips curve into a smug smile.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you replied, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see.
Undeterred, he nuzzled deeper into you, his curls tickling your chin. “You do,” he insisted, his words vibrating through your chest.
You chuckled, the warmth of his presence making it impossible to argue. “I do. I really do.”
“We’ve seen that movie a million times. We need to watch something else,” Lando groaned, leaning back against the couch cushions.
“But, Lando! It’s Mean Girls! You can never get enough Mean Girls!” you shot back, clutching the remote dramatically.
“You can,” he insisted, his eyes narrowing at you with a mix of exasperation and fondness. “Especially when we’ve watched it like a million times. Every single movie night, love. Every. Single. One. For the last two months.”
“It’s a great movie,” you mumbled, pouting.
Lando rolled his eyes, though the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. He slid closer from his side of the couch, his hand brushing yours. “It is a good movie,” he admitted, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “But I swear, I can recite it line by line at this point.”
His lips found yours for a brief, teasing kiss before he added, “Besides, we need to watch new films. Preferably ones that don’t inspire you to cut holes in my tank tops so I, quote, ‘look like Regina George.’”
You pouted, pursing your lips dramatically. “They’re a timeless fashion statement.”
“Timeless, my ass,” he laughed, shaking his head as his hand lingered on yours, “But fine. One last time, okay? After this, we’re expanding your movie taste.”
“Deal,” you said with a grin, snuggling into his side as the opening credits rolled.
The two of you fell into an easy silence, the flickering glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room. As the movie played, Lando’s hand traced absentminded shapes along your arm, and your head rested comfortably on his shoulder.
Midway through, his voice broke the quiet. “When we’re old and gray,” he murmured, his tone soft, “And we’re still arguing about what to watch, you better have more suggestions than just Mean Girls.”
You chuckled, cuddling closer to him. But the movie wasn’t holding your attention anymore. Instead, your thoughts wandered to the idea of growing old together.
You imagined those future arguments, the two of you bickering playfully in the living room of a house that had become a home. He’d probably still let you win, just like he always did, and you’d end up asleep together on the couch halfway through whatever you’d picked.
You pictured racing each other down the stairs, canes in hand, laughter filling halls lined with photos of your children and grandchildren. You saw the teasing, the banter, the moments when he’d drive you up the wall—only to have you laughing seconds later. And no matter what, you’d always go to bed holding each other’s hand.
“I’m glad I fell in love with you,” you murmured as the ending credits rolled. Lando stretched, shifting to shake off the stiffness of sitting on the couch for so long.
“Oh yeah?” He glanced down at you with a playful smirk. “What makes you say that?”
You leaned closer, resting your head against his chest. His warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat felt like home. “Life would be so boring without you,” you said softly.
He chuckled, his arms lazily draping around you. “Well, I am pretty fun.”
“But also…” Your gaze flicked up to his face, taking a moment to admire the myriad of colors in his eyes. “You’re my best friend.”
His lips twitched into a grin. “Don’t let Max hear you say that, love. He might have a lot to say about you claiming his title.”
You scoffed, pulling away with mock indignation as he laughed. “Never mind. I take it all back,” you teased, standing to make your way to the kitchen for a snack.
But before you could take a step, Lando caught your wrist and tugged you back. You landed with a soft laugh in his lap, his arms wrapping securely around you from behind. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, the warmth of his lips sending a gentle shiver down your spine, before resting his chin on your shoulder.
“I don’t think I could’ve fallen this hard for anyone else,” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity, “There’s no one else I’d rather love than you.”
You could feel his smile against your skin, and it made your heart swell.
“You’re my best friend, too,” he added, his words wrapping around you like a soft blanket.
You turned slightly to look at him, your smirk returning. “Don’t tell Fewtrell that. He might get sad.”
He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, filling the quiet of your apartment. The dim glow of the apartment lights cast long shadows, but neither of you paid them any mind. All that mattered was the comfort of being together, blanketed in a world that was just yours.
Silently, as you laid in his arms, you wished that things would never change.
#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fic#lando norris#f1 fanfiction#formula one fic#formula one x reader#✩ allie's writing ✩
485 notes
·
View notes
Text
Neighbourly Care part 3 (NSFW)
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader
Summary: You go home for Thanksgiving and who else joins your family but none other than their wonderful neighbours Agatha and Rio
-OR-
You struggle to make it through the meal and so does Agatha, but she "accidentally" spills her drink which means you fuck in the bathroom :)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top Agatha, top Rio, fingering, oral, mention of humiliation kink
Words: 3.5k
A/N: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND KUDOS!!! to celebrate here is a bonus seasonal chapter :D Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate, and to those who don't enjoy the chapter ;)
AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Master List
A Thanksgiving To Remember
As the morning light filters through the blinds, the hotel room is dim and quiet. You wake up slowly, feeling warm and content, your body still tingling from last night. You shift slightly, realising that Rio is already awake. She’s sprawled comfortably on her side, her head resting on the pillow, her hand absently stroking your arm. Her eyes flicker open as she senses you waking, and she smiles at you lazily.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Rio hums, stretching and running a hand through her hair. “How are you feeling?”
“Good thanks, how about you?" You smile, feeling the pull of her easy, bright energy. Was she always so upbeat in the mornings?
“I’m great. But she,” Rio gestures toward Agatha with a playful smirk, “isn’t a morning person.”
Behind you, Agatha just grumbles in response, muffling her face into the pillow and pulling you closer into her. Rio leans over, a mischievous grin on her face as she brushes Agatha’s hair from her face. “C’mon, darling, I’ll make you coffee,” she offers sweetly, but you can hear the hint of a challenge in her tone.
Agatha groans again but finally starts to sit up, stretching with an audible crack in her spine. “Fine, fine,” Agatha mutters. “But it better be good, or I’ll go back to sleep.”
Rio laughs and gets up to make coffee, leaving Agatha to rub her eyes before looking at you. You share a quiet moment, the lingering energy from the night before making the air between you feel heavy with unspoken thoughts.
As Rio busies herself in the kitchenette in the corner of the room, Agatha grabs her phone and starts swiping through it. Not wanting to bother her, you reach for your phone too. You’re happily scrolling when a notification pops up
MILF 1 has added you to the group chat.
MILF 1 named the group chat Check-In Group
MILF 1: There. You can’t ignore us now, sweetheart.
You’re smiling at your phone when you feel Rio standing next to you, coffee in hand
“What are you smiling at? Not another potential date, I hope." She meant it as a tease, but you can hear the hint of jealousy in her voice.
“No,” you chuckle. “In fact, it’s just the opposite; Agatha is making sure that never happens again.” You tilt your phone to show Rio the notifications.
She looks down at your phone, her eyes narrowing slightly at the screen. “Why do you have Agatha saved as MILF 1?” she asks, raising her voice loud enough so Agatha hears.
You laugh nervously and quickly glance at Agatha, who’s sitting up now and lazily sipping her coffee, her attention on the two of you. She raises an eyebrow at you, her eyes glinting with something more than just curiosity.
“Well?” Rio prompts, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
You squirm under their combined gazes, feeling both flustered and slightly turned on. “It’s just the truth,” you admit sheepishly, your voice dropping as you fidget with the comforter. “She is a mom, and, well, I do want to f—” You stop yourself just in time, your cheeks heating as you look anywhere but at them.
Rio raises an eyebrow, a wicked grin curling on her lips. “Oh? And what am I saved as?” she teases, voice low and playful. “Please tell me it’s not just MILF 2.”
Your face goes hot, and you start fiddling with the comforter in your lap. “It might be.”
Rio bursts into laughter. “You really couldn’t think of something more creative?” she asks, shaking her head in mock disapproval.
Agatha’s smile never fades, but her eyes darken, and she stands up, stretching slowly. “Okay, on that note, I’m going to go shower,” she says, cutting through the playful moment. She gives Rio a brief kiss on the cheek before heading toward the bathroom. “You two behave while I’m gone.”
As Agatha disappears into the bathroom, Rio sets her coffee cup on the nightstand and leans closer to you, her expression shifting. There’s an undeniable heat in her eyes as her lips brush against yours in a kiss that’s possessive and urgent. “So you like to fuck us, hmm?” she whispers against your lips, her breath warm as it fans over your skin.
Your breath catches as her words sink in, and your body reacts almost instantly, a tingling warmth pooling low in your belly.
When the bathroom door clicks shut behind Agatha, Rio doesn’t waste a second. She pushes you back against the pillows, her touch both gentle and commanding. The electricity in the air is palpable as her lips find yours again, her kiss deepening with every passing second.
You moan softly when her hand trails down your side, grazing your hip before slipping under your waistband. She pauses just long enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re already so excited for me. Do you like it that much when I humiliate you?” Her tone is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you shiver.
Before you can answer, Rio presses her lips to yours again, cutting off any reply as her hand moves with a confidence that leaves you breathless. Her touch is slow at first, teasing, as though she’s savouring every little sound you make in response. The tension between you builds rapidly, and the air is charged with unspoken need.
Somewhere in the background, you faintly register the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Rio pulls back just enough to mutter against your lips, her voice low and dripping with desire. “I’ve got about ten minutes until she's done showering.”
Her words send a shiver down your spine, the hunger in her tone unmistakable. You swallow hard, your pulse racing as you meet her gaze. “I don’t think we’ll need that long anyway,” you admit softly, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of her intensity.
Rio smirks, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your answer. She wets her fingers with your arousal before burying two of them inside you, igniting a fire in your core that threatens to consume you completely. “So eager for me already,” she murmurs, her voice both teasing and utterly dominating. Her words make your breath hitch, the hint of humiliation in her tone only heightening your anticipation as she begins to fuck you.
There is no slow buildup, and Rio is mercilessly fucking you in seconds, pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t even know you could make; you’re pretty sure that the whole floor can hear you now.
She starts to pump her fingers faster, and you can hear how wet you are. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down before soothing it with a quick swipe of her tongue. "Shhhhh, baby, try and keep quiet for me; Aggie can’t know what I’m doing.”
The idea that this sex was potentially forbidden pushes you over the edge, and you grip on to her shoulders for dear life as your orgasm comes crashing over you. You pull Rio into a messy kiss to try and dampen your moans as you wind down. She pulls her fingers out, humming with pleasure as she sucks them clean.
“Fucking hell,” you pant.
Rio looks at you with a devilish grin.
The sound of the bathroom door opening jolts you out of the haze. Agatha steps into the room, towel-wrapped and hair damp, her expression calm as she surveys the scene. Rio immediately freezes, her eyes widening slightly like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
But Agatha doesn’t say a word. She simply raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips, before turning back to the closet to finish getting ready. Her calm, collected demeanour somehow leaves you even more flustered than being caught outright.
The rest of the morning passes in a blur. After Agatha and Rio get you dressed, they drive you back to your college apartment; their voices light and playful. “Remember to actually text us this time,” Rio teases as she pulls up to the curb. “We’re not just for weekends, you know.”
“Yeah, text us, sweetheart,” Agatha adds with a soft smile. “We like hearing from you.”
“I will,” you promise, glancing at your phone, already thinking of what you were going to text them.
—
Later that evening, you’re mindlessly scrolling on your phone when you notice a new notification in your group chat with Agatha and Rio.
Check-In Group
MILF 2 changed the name to MILFs Anonymous
MILF 1: Rio!
MILF 2: Come on, just let me have this one thing :(
MILF 1: Fine, but Y/N, change our contact names now please
You roll your eyes at Rio’s antics but do as you’re told, not wanting to dissapoint Agatha; you still feel a bit guilty for having sex with Rio this morning.
—
Over the next few days, you find yourself texting with them more and more. The conversations flow easily—Agatha constantly checking in on you, always asking if you’ve eaten or if you’re doing alright. It’s sweet, in a way you didn’t expect, but it’s comforting. Rio, on the other hand, can’t resist sending her terrible dad jokes, which, despite your best efforts, always make you laugh.
MILFS Anonymous
~ 15:48
Rio: What do you call a group of crows that stick together?
You: Oh God, please stop
Agatha: Seriously. You’re not funny
Rio: VelCrows :)))
Agatha: Sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you
Rio: It’s because I fuck you like there’s no tomorrow ;)
~ 21:17
Agatha: *click to open image*
Agatha: Huh, you don’t look like you’re doing much fucking to me
You drop your phone with a loud clatter. You were not expecting to see a picture of a Rio naked and tied to the bed with a vibrator pressed against her clit and by the looks of it, she had been like that for some time. You spend the rest of your evening fucking yourself to that image. Each time you think you’re done and can't cum any more, the image pops into your mind again, and you start to imagine all the things they would do if you were with them, and before you know it, your hand is back between your legs.
—
Thanksgiving break arrives faster than expected, and the familiar comfort of your parents' home feels like a welcome change from the chaos of college life. You arrive in the early afternoon, greeted by the warm aroma of roasted turkey and spiced pies wafting from the kitchen. It’s a little odd being home after everything that’s happened with Rio and Agatha, knowing they live just next door. You wonder if you’ll see them during your visit.
It turns out you don’t have to wonder for long.
A knock at the front door pulls you from your thoughts, and your dad answers with a cheerful, “Agatha! Rio! Happy Thanksgiving!”
Your stomach flips.
You appear in the hallway just in time to see them stepping inside, Agatha holding a neatly wrapped gift basket and Rio carrying what looks like a bottle of wine. They’re dressed casually but still look effortlessly gorgeous; Rio is dressed in a breezy striped blue shirt that’s half tucked into her jeans. The loose fit of the shirt somehow adds to her charm, her confident movements making it clear she’s completely at ease. Agatha, on the other hand, is the picture of sophistication, her fitted blazer in a warm mustard hue paired with a turtleneck and slacks giving her a commanding presence that turns heads—even in such a casual setting.
“We just wanted to drop this off,” Agatha says, her usual polished tone soft and warm. “A little something for the holiday.”
“Oh, nonsense, you’re not just dropping it off,” your mom insists, appearing behind your dad. “You’re staying for dinner. It’s the least we can do after everything you did for this one when they got locked out in the rain.”
Your heart nearly stops. You glance at Agatha, who meets your wide-eyed look with a calm, knowing smile.
“Really, it wasn’t any trouble,” Agatha says smoothly, a teasing lilt in her voice. “I mean, we could’ve just let them in with the spare key you gave us, but... well, we thought they might prefer a warm bed and some company at ours instead.”
Your cheeks burn as Rio chimes in, her grin bordering on wicked. “And they didn’t seem to mind one bit.”
Your parents laugh, completely oblivious to the deeper meaning behind the exchange, but you feel like you’re about to combust. Agatha and Rio both throw you brief, pointed glances before following your mom into the dining room, leaving you standing there trying to steady your racing heart.
—
Dinner starts off innocently enough, but the air feels charged in a way you can’t quite explain. You’re hyper-aware of Rio sitting across from you and Agatha beside you, their presence consuming all your focus.
Rio’s long fingers wrap elegantly around her wine glass as she listens to your dad talk, but her gaze keeps drifting to you, her lips curving into a faint smirk every time your eyes meet. Meanwhile, Agatha takes every opportunity to lean close, brushing her arm against yours under the guise of reaching for the breadbasket or whispering a sly comment in your ear that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.
“You look a little flushed, sweetheart,” Agatha purrs at one point, her tone dripping with amusement. “You okay?”
You nod quickly, biting your lip to keep from saying something that would give you away. Rio catches the exchange and arches an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between the two of you knowingly.
It only gets worse as the meal progresses. Rio’s foot grazes yours under the table, lingering just long enough to send a thrill up your spine.
When Agatha pours herself another glass of wine, she tilts the bottle toward you with a raised brow, silently asking if you’d like more. You nod, not trusting your voice. As she leans over to fill your glass, her lips brush your ear so faintly it feels like a whisper of air. “Behave, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her voice so low and intimate that a shiver runs down your spine.
You clench your thighs and glance up at her wide-eyed, but she only pulls back with that same subtle smile, her expression calm and unreadable.
You do your best to stay composed, but your mind is spinning. Every touch, every look, and every smirk makes it harder to focus on anything else.
Then, as if the universe wants to test your resolve further, Agatha “accidentally” spills a bit of wine on her sweater.
“Oh, shoot,” she says, dabbing at the stain with her napkin.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” your mom says quickly. “Y/N, show Agatha where the bathroom is, and grab her a clean top from the laundry room, will you?”
You nod, your pulse quickening as you rise from the table. Agatha follows you down the hall, her calm exterior betraying nothing, but you can feel the tension radiating off her like heat. You scurry off to grab Agatha a clean top and quickly show her to the bathroom.
The moment you’re alone in the room, she closes the door behind you with a soft click and turns to face you, her expression shifting from composed to utterly predatory.
“Finally,” she murmurs, stepping closer, her voice low and thick with desire. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you all evening?”
Your breath catches as she backs you against the counter, her hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against her. Her lips are on yours before you can respond, the kiss hungry and demanding, igniting a fire in your chest that spreads through your entire body.
“Agatha, we—” you start to protest, your voice a shaky whisper, but she silences you with another kiss, her hands sliding up your sides to cup your face.
“They’re none the wiser,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice sending shivers down your spine. “Now, let me have you for just a moment.”
Before you can respond, Agatha’s hands drift lower, deftly removing anything on your bottom half that will get in the way of her goal and letting the fabric fall to the tiled floor. Her gaze darkens as she sinks to her knees in front of you, her palms sliding down your thighs, leaving trails of heat in their wake.
Her eyes flick up to meet yours, full of lust and mischief, as she leans in closer. “Dripping everywhere,” she murmurs, her voice husky and teasing, her lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Just like the first time we were in a bathroom together. Seems I have a knack for this, don’t I?”
Your heart pounds in your chest as her words hang in the air, her presence between your legs sending a surge of electricity through you.
It might be Thanksgiving, but your body feels like the Fourth of July when she drags her tongue from your entrance to your clit. She sucks it into her mouth and flicks lightly with the tip of her tongue before releasing it and going back to push her tongue inside you. The woman is on a mission and wastes no time in bringing you close to your climax in record time.
Her hand clamps over your mouth, not willing to risk you letting the whole street know that you’re going to cum, and then, with a final flick of her tongue, you’re glad she did because the orgasm hits you like a fucking 18-wheeler truck, your legs start to shake, and you have to grip on to the sink to stop yourself from collapsing.
Your breathing comes in ragged gasps as the world tilts back into focus, your body still trembling from the intensity of what just happened. Agatha stands, her movements unhurried and precise as she grabs a tissue and delicately wipes the corner of her mouth, her expression one of calm satisfaction.
"Still as sweet as I remember," she murmurs, her voice low and teasing as she crumples the tissue and tosses it into the small trash can by the sink.
You blink at her, still clinging to the edge of the sink for balance, your legs shaky and your mind a hazy blur of aftershocks. Agatha’s hands are steady as she helps you straighten your clothes, her touch lingering just a moment too long, her fingers grazing the small of your back before she steps away.
She smooths the fresh top you fetched for her, giving herself a quick once-over in the mirror. Perfectly put together, not a single hair out of place. You can’t help but marvel at her composure, especially when you feel like you’ve just been turned inside out.
Agatha turns back to you, a soft, almost maternal smile on her lips as she gives your ass a light pat. “Go on, darling,” she says, her tone playful but firm. “Head back out there before they start to wonder. I’ll be right behind you.”
You swallow hard, willing your legs to cooperate, and make your way back to the dining room, still trying to regain your composure.
The two of you return to the dining room during dessert, the scent of sweet pies and coffee wafting in the air. Agatha looks completely composed now, her clean top fitting snugly as she takes her seat next to you. She even stops for a moment to dab a napkin at the corner of her mouth—the perfect picture of elegance considering she was wiping away the last remnants of your cum. You, however, can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you settle down, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze too directly.
From the other side of the table, Rio watches the two of you with a smirk that’s far too knowing for comfort. She raises her glass in a small toast, the corner of her lips quirking in amusement before she takes a slow sip.
“So,” she says casually, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with mischief, “did the mess get sorted out?”
Agatha doesn’t miss a beat, shooting her a calm, collected smile. “All taken care of. They were very helpful.” She says, draping an arm around the back of your chair.
Your mother beams, none the wiser. “Well, that’s sweet. Always good to know you’ve got a helping hand.”
Rio stifles a laugh behind her hand, her eyes meeting yours briefly. The heat simmering beneath your skin refuses to let up, and you can only hope that dessert wraps up soon—before someone else catches on.
-----
"we could’ve just let them in with the spare key"
*humming* it was Agatha all along
⚠️Remember⚠️validation saves lives (this fic dies when I believe nobody likes it anymore because I have imposter syndrome)
-----
taglist: @aceday @valarmorghuli @ctrlamira @lezbean-with-a-side-of-dilfs @noturlondonboy @darkangelchronicles @4theluvofsapphos
#agatha all along#agatha all along fanfic#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#agathario x reader#agathario x you#agatha x rio x reader#rio vidal x reader#rio x reader#rio vidal smut#rio x reader smut#rio vidal x reader smut#rio vidal fic#rio vidal fanfic#aubrey plaza character#alternate universe#marvel#mcu#rio vidal x you#rio x you#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness smut#wlw smut#kathryn hahn#agathario#x reader
702 notes
·
View notes
Text
buy me presents [rafe cameron]
pairing - boxer!rafe x bambi!reader
summary - christmas has never been much of rafe’s thing. but lucky for him, it’s his hyperfeminine gf’s favorite holiday. this comes with decorating their shared apartment in a pink winter wonderland, and baked goods almost every night.
warnings - quite literally pure fluff
rafe let out a huff, stepping into his apartment with sweat dripping down his forehead. he just got back from the gym, and his face contorted into confusion when he crossed the threshold of the front door and was met with his apartment that felt like a sauna. he sets his bag down by the door and walks further inside, and spots her in the kitchen.
“baby? the hell are you doin’? it’s like a hundred degrees in here.” rafe sighs, sitting at the counter as he watches her.
she looks up, flour dusting her pink cheeks. she smiles and he takes in the mess that has become their kitchen. baking pans, whisks, and bowls litter the counter, along with numerous ingredients that he wasn’t even aware were in their pantry.
“baking!” she responds with that sweet honey-dipped voice, a smile on her lips.
“baking, huh?” he says, resting his chin in his palm. his other hand reaches up and shoves the hood off his head, which was only making the rising temperature of their apartment worse for him.
“yeah, sorry it’s so hot. the oven’s been on sooo…” she shrugs with a smile, continuing what she was doing. he watches as he tongue pokes out of her lips in concentration. she leans all her weight onto the counter as she presses a cookie cutter into the dough she has rolled out on the counter.
“mhm. that’s alright. what’re you baking?” he press his arms into the counter, lifting his body slightly to peek over at her work on the other side of the counter.
“gingerbread cookies! wanna help?” she looks up at him with big doe eyes.
he chuckles, brushing his thumb over his nose. “yeah, i’m good baby. trust me, you don’t want me in there. i’ll burn our apartment down.”
she giggles, shaking her head. “c’mon it’s not that hard.”
he shakes his head. “christmas isn’t really my thing, baby. i’ll leave the baking to you.”
it was the day after thanksgiving and he had woken up this morning to sounds of cluttering in the living room. when he got up to see what it was, he saw his girlfriend sitting criss cross by the coffee table, sorting through boxes. she pulled out pink bows and snowy decor. and now, his apartment was a pink winter wonderland.
it was their first christmas together as a couple, and he was a bit confused. and disoriented with the fact that he had to live in the north pole for the next month. but, anything y/n wanted, she got. rafe made sure of that.
she pouts her lips slightly. “please? just help me make the gingerbread men shapes?”
he sighs, becomes he knows when she gives that pout with her big eyes, he’ll never relent. he does anything she wants.
“alright, alright.” he pulls his zip up off his arms and tosses it onto the couch, leaving him in a black t-shirt. he rounds the counter to stand next to her, looking at the counter covered in flour and dough. “what do i have to do?”
she reaches over to her container of cookie cutters and palms two shapes of gingerbread men into his hands. “use those.” she instructs. “like this.”
she demonstrates, pushing her weight into the counter as she presses the cookie cutter into the dough, making the shape of a gingerbread man. “see!” she peels back the excess dough and carefully picks up the gingerbread shape and lays it on the baking sheet with the others she made.
he nods firmly, his tongue pressing out of his lips in concentration, the same way hers does. he presses the cookie cutter into the dough, his bicep muscles flexing under the material of his shirt.
he hums in content as he lifts the cutter, revealing the shape he made. she smiles, clapping her hands together. “see! you did it!” she wraps her arms around him and nudges herself into his side with a sequal.
he rolls his eyes playfully and chuckles. “baby, i’m barely doing anything—“
“shut up.” she nudges his side playfully, picking up the gingerbread he made and gingerly placing it on the baking sheet. once they made a few more, all the dough shapes lined up, she places the baking sheet in the oven.
she sets the timer, and rafe’s arms snuggly find their home around her waist from behind. she grins, leaning back into him. she presses her lips together, something on her mind.
“do you like all the decorations? i know it’s not your thing, and it’s really girly and all.. but i just like christmas a lot. and i’m excited to spend it with you.” her words come out in a sporadic burst, shaken nervousness bubbling past her lips.
he grins, pressing a kiss to her temple from behind, his hands splaying across her stomach as he holds her close. “baby, i love anything you love, okay? yeah, i’ve never really done anything for christmas before, but if it makes you happy, you can make the apartment a pink winter wonderland and bake all you want. whatever makes my girl happy, yeah?”
she grins, turning in his arms to face him, a blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks. she buries her face in his chest, a giggle falling past her lips as she does.
rafe did anything for his girl.
#rafe cameron#obx fic#rafe obx#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron blurb#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#protective rafe
447 notes
·
View notes
Text
Want You
Summary: LN4 + "But I don't want them, I want you." 🥧🏈
Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶
Word count: 10.8k
You stand in the mirror, pacing back and forth as you fix your hair for the third time. Tonight is one of those nights where the universe feels electrically charged, a perfect blend of thrill and anxiety swirling in your gut.
Layla, your best friend, has just finished getting ready and is practically beaming with excitement beside you.
Her skin glows under the soft lights of your apartment, and her dress hugs her figure perfectly. You can’t help but feel slightly overshadowed by her beauty.
"Do I look okay?" you ask, biting your lip, your eyes darting from her to your reflection.
"Are you kidding? You look amazing!" Layla exclaims, twisting a lock of her hair, her eyes sparkling. "But you really need to get out there more. You’re gorgeous in your own right!”
You chuckle, brushing off her compliment with a wave of your hand. "Yeah, well, even if I am, who's going to notice when you're around? You’re the one who gets all the attention. "
"That's not true! But anyway, tonight we’re supposed to have fun, not talk about that,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Now, remember the plan?”
You nod, though your heart feels heavier with those words. “Right. We’re meeting Lando and the guys at the club. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m some awkward third wheel. He’s popular.”
Layla rolls her eyes playfully. “You say that every time. You two are friends. Besides, I think he likes you more than you think.”
“Whatever you say,” you respond, your mind racing back to the day Lando had randomly entered your life during a charity event you were volunteering for.
He was charming, funny, and incredibly humble for someone so famous. But the thought of anything romantic blossoming between you seemed absurd, especially when Layla was practically the embodiment of what everyone desired.
At the club, the bass vibrates through the floor, and colorful lights dance around the crowd like fireflies in the night. It’s an atmosphere alive with energy, but you feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought of seeing Lando.
You spot him near the bar, a bright smile on his face as he talks to some friends. Dressed casually, Lando is effortlessly cool, like a magnetic pull that draws everyone’s attention.
“There he is!” Layla exclaims, her excitement infectious. You watch her eyes grow wide like a child spotting a shooting star.
“Go! Go talk to him!” you nudge her, unable to keep the urge to play matchmaker at bay.
“No way! I’m not going without my wingwoman,” she whispers urgently, grabbing your wrist.
With a resigned sigh, you stride forward, Layla trailing closely behind. The moment Lando sees you, his face lights up, and he waves enthusiastically.
The way his presence commands attention is almost intoxicating.
“Hey! You made it!” he greets, pulling you in for a quick hug. You can smell his cologne, fresh and invigorating. Suddenly, your shyness mellows into warmth, though a tiny inner voice reminds you that you’re about to play cupid.
“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, your demeanor suddenly a mix of confidence and nervous fluttering. “Lando, this is my best friend Layla. You should hang out with her more—she’s awesome!”
Layla’s cheeks flush, and a playful smirk spreads across her face, but you can’t help but feel anxiety gnawing at you.
“Nice to meet you, Layla,” Lando says, his bright green eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Only good things, I hope!” Layla giggles, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers as if she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands.
“Yes, definitely,” he chuckles lightly, shooting you a glance that feels a bit mischievous. “I always wanted to meet the friend who keeps you so grounded.”
You fight to keep your composure, trying to bury the layer of jealousy creeping in. “Well, tonight’s all about celebrating. We should hit the dance floor!”
Hours pass with drinks flowing and laughter echoing. You dance, reveling in the rhythm while keeping a watchful, almost possessive gaze on Layla and Lando. They banter, and you notice how easily they connect, the chemistry undeniable.
A part of you feels satisfied, hoping for the sparks to ignite. Yet, another part steals glances at the way Lando laughs—could he truly like her?
“Hey,” you hear a familiar voice call, pulling you from your thoughts. Lando approaches, his brow slightly furrowed. “I was looking for you. Want to join us?”
You swallow, glancing at Layla, who is leaning against her car, her smile bright. “Um, sure. Just one moment.”
He watches you, a look of concern crossing his face. “Everything alright?”
You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah but you know, Layla really lights up the floor.”
“She does,” he nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “But I think you’re just as fun. It’s nice having both of you here.”
“Nice being here with you.” The words spilled from your mouth before you could bite them back.
Before you nerves could take over, you added, “You know, if you’re interested, Layla would love to get coffee or something. She’s crushing on you.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Lando’s face, followed by an understanding nod. “Yeah, I picked up on that. But honestly?” He paused, searching for your eyes. “I think I’d prefer hanging out with you instead."
Your breath hitched, and you felt a giddy thrill dance in your chest. “Really? You mean that?”
“Definitely,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “You’re fun to talk to, and we have a great vibe. I really like spending time with you.”
“Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that,” you stammered, a mixture of confusion and excitement swirling inside you. “I mean, Layla is great and all, but—”
“Look,” he interrupted gently, his eyes softening. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I’d love to get to know you better. Just you. No Layla.”
The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden rays across the small living room where Lando and you sat. Your head ached, pounding in rhythm with your heartbeat, and the remnants of last night's festivities loomed over you like a heavy cloud.
Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t anything too wild, don’t worry. Just that you really like spending time with me… and that you might like me in a different way.”
Your face burned even hotter, a mix of embarrassment and panic flooding your senses. “Oh my god! Lando, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to… I don’t remember any of that! It’s embarrassing.”
“Hey, don’t stress,” he said, a warm smile crossing his lips. “It’s not like you announced it to the whole party or anything. Just me, your trusted partner in crime. Besides, it's actually kind of sweet.”
His words were laced with a sincerity that calmed the storm brewing inside you, just a little. “You really think so?”
“Definitely,” Lando nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy? It made my night a lot better.”
“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”
“You were not a mess, you were just… liberated,” Lando smirked, leaning back on the couch and folding his arms behind his head. “And honestly, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. In fact, it kind of makes me happy.”
“Ugh, Lando, you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you replied, your voice wavering as you tried to muster a hint of displeasure.
“No, I’m not.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy?”
“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”
“No you weren't.” His face lit up with a smile that was infectious. “First things first, though—let’s get you over that hangover.”
You chuckled softly, grateful for the shift in energy. “Right.”
“Exactly,” Lando said, standing up and moving to the kitchen. “How do you feel about greasy food? Because I believe that’s the primary cure for hangovers.”
Your lips curved into a smile. “Always a solid choice. I could go for some toast or maybe even pancakes.”
“I can whip up something interesting,” he called back, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. “But it might not be traditional breakfast food. I’ve been experimenting a little.”
“Oh boy, this should be good,” you said, following him into the kitchen, the earlier tension still lingering, but now more like a hopeful promise than a cloud of uncertainty.
Lando looked back over his shoulder with that charming grin that made your heart race. “Just trust me. You’ll love it.”
As he rummaged through the cabinets, you felt a flutter of excitement amid the remnants of your embarrassment. Maybe today wasn’t just about curing a hangover. Maybe it was the start of something new—something sweet and just a little bit wild.
The kitchen filled with the aroma of sizzling ingredients, laughter, and casual banter, the gravitational pull of your connection drawing you closer.
And for the first time that morning, as the sunlight spilled in and the soft music played, you felt truly, undeniably alive. . . .
The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the McLaren paddock as the roar of engines filled the air. You had arrived earlier than expected, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.
Lando had invited you specifically to watch him race, and you had decided to bring Layla with you, thinking it might make the day more enjoyable.
But now, as you watched the interactions unfold around you, you began to regret that decision.
“Look at them,” Layla said, nudging your arm and pointing toward the racing cars as they zipped around the track. “Isn’t it incredible? I still can’t believe we’re here!”
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to suppress the tension knotting up your stomach.
Lando was on the other side of the paddock, surrounded by his team, engrossed in the pre-race hustle. He looked effortlessly cool in his race suit, flashing that signature smile that made your heart skip, and exchanging laughter with his crew.
You could see the admiration in Layla’s eyes, the way her gaze followed him, almost too fondly.
“Do you think he’ll win today?” Layla asked, her voice bright with enthusiasm. “I mean, he’s been so on form lately. This might be his season!”
“Yeah, I hope so,” you managed, but your heart sank a little at the way she spoke about him, as if Lando was already hers, as if you didn’t even exist in the context of their perfect relationship.
As the anticipation built, Lando finished up with his team and made his way over to you both. With a warm grin, he wrapped you in a tight hug, his comforting scent of fresh cedar and sunlight enveloping you.
“Hey, you made it!” he exclaimed, pulling back to look into your eyes. He waved cheerfully at Layla, who returned the gesture with a beaming smile.
With a playful tap on my shoulder, he kept his attention locked on you. “I bought your favorite snacks in case you get hungry. Just ask anyone in hospitality and they'll give them to you.”
“Oh, Lando, you didn’t have to,” you said, touched by his thoughtfulness.
“I knew you didn’t eat much,” he replied, with a hint of teasing in his tone. “Gotta keep you energized, right? What would the fans say if they saw you fainting in the stands?”
You chuckled, the lightheartedness of his comment managing to ease some of the tension in your chest. “I appreciate it, really. Thanks, Lando.”
“Of course!” He flashed that dazzling smile again, and your heart skipped yet again, wishing it wouldn’t betray you so. “Are you excited for the race?”
“Absolutely,” You said with a grin. “I can’t wait to see you speed past everyone. You’re going to crush it!”
Lando’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “I’ll do my best. And if all goes to plan, maybe we can celebrate afterward?”
“Definitely!” you replied a little too quickly. “That would be amazing!”
As Lando left to get ready for the race and you walked to the garage, Layla nudged you playfully. “Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?” she said, a teasing smirk on her face.
“How do he… look at me?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.
“Like he's helplessly falling in love,” Layla teased, her tone light but with a touch of sincerity.
Your cheeks heated. “Oh, come on. He’s just friendly. You know how he is.”
“Friendly? Girl, he’s practically glowing when he sees you! It’s more than friendly.”
You didn't reply but her words were replayed in your head for most of the day. . . .
The roar of the engines and the excitement of the crowd filled the air as you settled into your seat, your heart racing along with the cars on the track.
You had been eagerly watching Lando drive with impressive precision, your admiration mixed with nerves as he expertly navigated the twists and turns of the circuit.
But as the laps dwindled down, your stomach began to rumble louder than the cars. You leaned over to Layla, who was just as engrossed in the race aside from the occasional glance in your direction.
“I'm going to grab some snacks Lando got for me. Want anything?” you asked, trying to mask your growing hunger with a light-hearted tone.
“No, I’m good! Can’t believe you have personal snacks from the Lando,” Layla teased, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
With a playful roll of your eyes, you made your way to the hospitality room, the bright lights and lavish decor a stark contrast to the rawness of the track.
You felt a rush of nostalgia thinking about all the times Lando had surprised you with silly little gestures, like snacking during breaks or rescuing you from long queues at events.
As you entered, the atmosphere abruptly shifted. A tall, undeniably handsome man leaned casually against the bar, a cocky smile on his face that could light up the room.
He had perfectly styled hair and a confidence that was palpable. You instinctively felt your pulse quicken, but not in the way you were used to with Lando.
“Hey there,” he drawled, his voice smooth like velvet as he turned to face you. “What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing all alone?”
You blinked, taken aback. It was the first time someone had openly flirted with you in public, and the realization made your cheeks flush.
“Um, just grabbing some snacks,” you stammered, glancing back toward the snack table. “Not much to see here.”
He moved closer, leaning forward on the bar, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I’d hardly call you ‘not much to see.’ You definitely stand out from the crowd. What’s your name?”
“Uh, it’s…” you hesitated, almost forgetting your own name for a moment. “It’s Y/N. And you are…?”
“Ethan,” he replied, extending a hand with an air of confidence. You hesitated but eventually shook his hand. “So Y/N, do you come to the races often?”
“More often than you’d think,” you answered, forcing a smile.
Your mind kept drifting back to Lando, his curly hair bouncing with every turn, his infectious laugh, his enthusiastic spirit. You couldn't help but mentally compare every detail of Ethan to Lando, a habit you couldn’t shake off.
“What do you think of the race so far?” Ethan asked, diverting your thoughts back to the present.
“Oh, it’s exhilarating! Lando’s doing really well,” you replied, your voice faltering slightly as you mentioned his name. “He’s a great driver.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Lando? The Lando?”
“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a bit. He’s… well, great,” you added sheepishly, not wanting to divulge too much about your friendship.
“Sounds like you’re a bit smitten,” Ethan teased, his eyes sparkling with playful banter.
You cut him a look, a blush creeping up your neck. “No! It’s not like that. We’re just friends!” The resolve in your voice felt weak against the wistfulness laced in your words.
Would Ethan ever understand the depth of what Lando meant to you?
The race continued, and Ethan shifted his attention from the track to you. “While I might not have curly hair or that… infectious laugh, I can still try to impress you,” he said with a smirk.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I can’t deny you’re charming, Ethan. But the thing about Lando—”
“Is that he’s Lando,” Ethan interrupted, his voice low as though the name itself held some power. “I get it. You’ve got this history that I can’t compete with.”
He looked down, running a hand through his hair. The gesture seemed so reminiscent of Lando, yet distinctly different.
You couldn’t shake off how much every flick of Ethan’s hair and every smile he flashed felt in stark contrast to Lando’s bouncy curls and radiant grin. He smiled, sure, but it felt like a shadow of something brighter.
Just then, a staff member waved at Ethan from the other side of the grandstand, beckoning him over for photographs. “I’ll be right back!” he said, throwing you one last flirtatious grin before he slipped away.
You decided to take the chance to get back to your seat, curious as to why the cheers around the paddock were getting louder.
“Did you get your snacks?” Layla asked, her eyes still glued to the screen where the race was unfolding.
“Yeah,” you replied absentmindedly, still feeling the flutter of excitement from Ethan's attention. As you focused on the race, your thoughts danced back to him intermittently.
The atmosphere was electric; Lando was still in the lead for qualifying, much to the delight of the crowd, and your heart raced not just from the race—but from the momentary thrill of flirtation.
“Come on, come on, Lando!” Layla shouted, her enthusiasm infectious. You mirrored her excitement, your eyes following the sleek McLaren as it whizzed around the track.
When Lando crossed the finish line, securing pole position, the roar from the team was deafening. Everyone in McLaren was ecstatic, their cheers echoing the adrenaline that surged through the air.
"Yes, Lando," you said, smiling as the cameras captured the jubilant scene.
With Lando’s triumph, you watched as the team swarmed to congratulate him. You couldn't help but chuckle at his signature grin, the way he seemed to glow with the thrill of victory.
But as you looked closer, you realized that despite the chaos around him, Lando’s gaze was searching the crowd.
“Do you think he’ll spot us?” Layla asked, her eyes narrowing, trying to catch a glimpse through the throng of people.
“I doubt it. I mean, look at him! He’s the star of the show right now,” you replied, attempting to downplay the hope that fluttered in your stomach.
Still, your thoughts were interrupted as Layla suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd.
“C'mon! We need to get a closer look!” she shouted over the noise. Your heart raced for a different reason now, excitement growing as you maneuvered through the ocean of fans, team members, and media.
You just managed to catch a glimpse of Lando standing on his car, fist raised triumphantly in the air. “Look at him! He’s on top of the world!” you exclaimed, your voice barely audible over the cheers.
“I know! He’s incredible!” Layla responded, beaming at Lando’s joyous display.
Amidst the clamor and celebrations, you decided to yell out, “Lando, over here!” hoping he might hear you.
To your surprise, he turned in your direction, a radiant smile breaking across his face. He scanned the crowd, and for a heartbeat, your eyes locked. His smile grew broader, and you felt warmth flood your cheeks.
Then, without a thought for the crowd around you, you made your way over to him. You squeezed through a chaotic throng of jubilant fans, the buzz of celebration swirling around you, until you reached the area near the barriers.
There he was, laughing and exchanging high-fives with the team. You couldn't help but grin as you approached.
“Lando!” you shouted over the noise, arms open wide.
He spotted you immediately, and a look of pure joy washed over his face. With almost immediate instinct, he lunged toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.
The strength of his excitement was palpable, and you squeezed him back, your heart racing.
He chuckled as he lifted you slightly off the ground. “I did it! I can't believe it!” he cried, setting you back down gently. “Did you see that last lap?”
“Are you kidding? It was amazing! You were so fast!” you exclaimed, your voice rising above the cacophony.
As he pulled back, he looked down at you with his bright eyes sparkling in the fading light. “I couldn’t have done it without all your support. You were here every step of the way.”
“You’ve worked so hard, Lando. You deserve this,” you said, your gaze drifting for a moment as you felt the warmth of his presence envelop you.
But then, staring at him with the backdrop of the ecstatic crowd, your heart felt odd. Being so close to him, you suddenly found yourself stammering. “I—uh, I mean… you really did great.”
Lando tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You alright?” He took a small step closer, his arm still around your waist, making you acutely aware of the physical closeness between you, which felt both comfortable and electric.
“Uh, yeah, totally fine,” you replied quickly, but your voice was barely above a whisper. You caught a brief glimpse of Lando's gaze flitting to your lips, and it sent a jolt of connection rushing through you.
“I just… I mean…” You struggled to finish your thought, the reality of your best friend stepping into the limelight making you feel both thrilled and ridiculously nervous.
“Just what?” he teased gently, his smile unwavering but those eyes—oh, those eyes were searching, digging deeper.
“Just… I didn’t think you’d get pole position! I mean, I thought maybe, like, third or fourth?” You laughed nervously, but his gaze didn’t waver.
“Hey, you should always believe in me!” Lando said, but there was a soft intensity behind his words that made your heart race all the more. “If I can get here today, then you have to promise you’ll always believe in me, no matter what.”
You paused, looking earnestly into his bright eyes, biting your lip. “I promise. But you’ve gotta promise me too; no matter how famous you get or how many trophies you win, you won’t forget about me, okay?”
“Never,” he said softly, but the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. He lowered his voice, his teasing demeanor fading slightly.
“You’ve been my constant through all of this, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Lando’s words lingered palpably in the air between you. You felt like the entire world had faded away, the crowd’s roars dimming into background noise. “I just… I could never replace what we have.”
“Exactly,” he said, moving a fraction closer, eliciting butterflies to flutter chaotic within your stomach. “Remember that time you thought I’d mess up in Monaco, and then I didn’t? I was convinced I could do it because you believed in me.”
You laughed, flushing at the memory. “Yeah, and you laughed at me for just being realistic.”
“Realistic is boring! You should know that by now. In racing, and in life, you gotta dream big,” he said, voice lightening as humor returned to the moment.
Just as you were about to respond, Zac approached. “Hey! Lando! Congrats, mate!”
He clapped Lando on the back, breaking the synergy you had created. “That was an incredible race! You crushed it!”
Lando’s hand left your waist as he turned to engage with Zac, his infectious excitement pulling him into the conversation. “Thanks, man! I can’t believe it! I was so nervous the entire time!”
You stepped back slightly, allowing the two of them to revel in the adrenaline of the moment. Lando beamed, his eyes sparkling as he spoke animatedly with Zac about the race strategy.
You watched as he made his way to get weighed and interviewed, your heart fluttering with a mix of pride and something else you weren’t quite ready to admit.
“Really, though, I don’t understand why you’re still on the fence about it,” Layla said, stepping beside you as you discreetly observed Lando.
Her voice was laced with curiosity as she nudged your shoulder. “He’s been so into you these past few weeks. Did you see how he looked at you when he saw you?”
You sighed, leaning back against the wall, your gaze still fixed on Lando. “Yeah, well, I saw that. But just because he looks at me a certain way doesn’t mean he likes me. He’s excited about the race, Layla. I’m just… there.”
“You’re not just ‘there.’ You’re practically glowing in his vicinity. It’s like he only sees you when he talks!” Layla insisted, her tone shifting to teasing. “You could light up an entire stadium with the way he smiles at you.”
“Okay, maybe he enjoys spending time with me,” you conceded, your cheeks warming at the thought. “But that doesn't exactly scream ‘I like you.’”
“Maybe not,” she replied, tilting her head as she watched Lando waving at fans and signing autographs, “but you’ve got to admit, there’s something more. I mean, look at him! The energy is off the charts!”
You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the conversation light. “You know how he is. He’s a charismatic guy. He’s like that with everyone.”
“Maybe. But wouldn’t it be amazing if he was like that with just you?” Layla’s voice softened, and she nudged you again. “Take the leap! Ask him how he feels—it doesn’t have to be a grand declaration.”
The sun was beginning to set over the racing circuit, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky as Lando settled himself into a high-backed chair in the paddock lounge.
It had been a day filled with adrenaline, the thrill of achieving pole position lighting up his thoughts.
The victory celebrations had been electrifying, but they were quickly overshadowed by a single purpose that surged through him like fuel to an engine—he wanted to see you again.
After the debrief, he had scanned the crowd, searching for you, his excitement building with each passing second. He had been talking about trying a new restaurant in town, and he couldn’t wait to explore it with you.
But the moment he stepped into the bustling lounge, he spotted you, and his heart sank just a little.
You were laughing.
Not just a polite chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh that lit up your face. You were engaged in conversation with Ethan Smith, the American actor who had been brought in as a special guest to support the race.
Lando could see the chemistry between you two—it was glaringly evident in the way Ethan leaned in slightly, his playful jokes coaxing out laughter and smiles that made your eyes sparkle.
“Hey, you look like you’re going to kill Ethan,” Layla, your best friend, teased as she sidled up to Lando, noticing the tense atmosphere that had suddenly enveloped him.
“Who?” Lando asked, tearing his gaze from you for just a moment.
“Ethan Smith? One of the most famous actors in the US? You don’t know him?” Layla's voice was filled with disbelief.
“Nope, and I don’t like him either,” Lando grumbled, eyes narrowing as he watched Ethan wink at you.
You giggled, and Lando felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. He stood up properly, unable to resist the pull any longer.
As he stormed over, Layla rolled her eyes, giggling softly in amusement. “Good luck, hero.”
Lando approached, trying to keep his expression neutral even while he could feel a competitive spark igniting within him.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” he said, forcing a smile as he sidled up next to you, “but I thought we were going to check out that new place together.”
You turned to him, your smile blossoming even wider. “Lando! You were amazing out there today! I still can’t believe you got pole position!”
“Thanks! It was a good day, but I’ve got even better plans,” he added, shooting Ethan a pointed look. “I’m taking you out for dinner remember.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered and amused by Lando's sudden intrusion. “Oh, is that so? Looks like you’ve got some competition, Norris.”
Lando’s jaw twitched slightly. “I don’t see any competition, honestly. You’re just a—”
“Just a what?” Ethan interrupted with a smirk, leaning back casually. “Just a huge star who happens to be having a lovely conversation with someone he finds incredibly charming?”
You giggled again, a sound that made Lando’s irritation simmer down just a fraction. “You guys, come on. I’m just trying to enjoy the evening here.”
“Exactly,” said Ethan, flashing you a disarming smile. “And you deserve it! Besides, I was just giving her some advice on how to handle the media.”
“Media?” Lando questioned, crossing his arms. “I didn’t realize you were running a media workshop.”
Ethan shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, just sharing the wisdom I’ve gained. It can be tough, huh? Like staying out of the limelight while everyone’s watching you, waiting for you to slip up.” He shot a harmless smile, but Lando felt the jabs in his stomach.
You frowned, sensing the tension. “You guys, let’s not make this into a competition. Lando, you were the one who wanted to go out tonight.”
Lando looked at you, and then back at Ethan. “Right,” he said, softening his tone as he fixed his eyes solely on you. “I just wanted to celebrate with you a little, that’s all.”
Ethan grinned, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Looks like you’ve claimed your prize, my friend. I was just enjoying the company. I’ll step back.”
Lando glanced at Ethan with a nod, appreciating the concession, but still feeling a little victorious as he turned back to you. “So, are you ready to go eat? That new place is supposed to be amazing.”
You looked back to Ethan, and then nodded, a sweet smile curling on your lips. “Yeah, I’m ready. Sorry for taking up your time, Ethan.”
Ethan waved it off with a playful wink. “No problem! Have fun out there, you two. Just remember, she was laughing with me first!”
As you and Lando began to walk away, he turned back to you with a raised eyebrow. “You know, just for the record, I think he was flirting with you.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh please, he’s just a friendly guy! Besides, I already have someone I’m interested in.”
“Good,” Lando muttered, feeling a rush of relief and warmth flooding his chest. “Just making sure.”
He smiled down at you, his heart feeling a little lighter now. “Let’s go enjoy our dinner and make some headlines of our own, huh?”
“Sounds perfect,” you said, linking your arm through his as you both made your way out, leaving the tension behind you.
Lando couldn’t help but smile at the thought of spending the evening with you, feeling that maybe the only competition that truly mattered was the one he could embrace.
The evening air was cooler than expected, igniting a small thrill of anticipation as you stepped out of the car. You looked up at the restaurant’s glowing sign, your heart fluttering a little.
This place was newly opened, a fusion of modern and vintage charm, and you were eager to see if it lived up to its reputation.
As you adjusted your jacket, you glanced at Lando, who was standing beside you with an easy grin, his eyes sparkling like the city lights around you. Ever since he came into your life, each moment felt a little more vibrant, a little more alive.
“Have you seen the menu?” you asked, looking up at him, excitement bubbling in your voice.
He nodded, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “I did, and I can tell you right now, I’m going for that pumpkin risotto. It sounds incredible.”
You laughed. “Pumpkin risotto? It seems a bit heavy for someone who just came off a race, doesn’t it?”
“Hey, I need my carbs!” he retorted playfully, nudging your shoulder with his. “Especially after that race last week. I burned more calories than I could count, you know.”
“Fine, but I’m holding you to it. If you fall asleep in the middle of dinner, we might have a problem,” you teased back, stepping inside the restaurant.
The atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace—soft lighting, a hint of herbs wafting from the kitchen, and laughter echoing from nearby tables. You felt a buzz of excitement in your veins as you and Lando were led to a cozy corner table.
“So, what are you going to have?” he asked, picking up the menu and scanning it with genuine interest.
You shrugged, pretending to gauge the choices with utmost seriousness. “I think I’ll try the seafood linguine. It’s been ages since I’ve had good pasta.”
Lando’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You know, I love when you get excited about food. It’s one of those little things that makes you… well, you.”
A warm blush crept onto your cheeks. “I didn’t realize you were so observant, Mr. Norris.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I notice the important things. Like how you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, or how your eyes light up when you talk about your favorite books.”
“Okay, now you’re just getting mushy.” Your voice barely hid your embarrassment, but the fluttering in your chest was unmistakable.
You loved how easily he could make you smile.
Their server arrived, and you both ordered. As you waited, the conversation flowed easily, moving from playful banter about Lando’s racing experiences to sharing your dream travel destinations.
“I really want to visit Japan,” you said, your eyes dancing with the thought. “The culture, the food, the cherry blossoms… it seems magical.”
Lando leaned back, an amused smile plastered on his face. “You’re a romantic at heart, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” you admitted, biting your lip. “What about you? Where would you go if you had the chance?”
He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Probably somewhere quiet. Racing is intense, so I think I’d like a peaceful beach. Just to sit, reflect, and maybe learn to surf.”
“Surfing, huh?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You? I can already picture you wiping out spectacularly.”
“Oh, I’d definitely faceplant! But I’d get back up,” he said, his laughter infectious. “Just like on the track. That’s what makes it all fun, right?”
Before you could respond, your food arrived, and the divine aroma filled the air. You both dove into the dishes eagerly, enjoying the burst of flavors that danced on your tongues.
“This is amazing!” you exclaimed, savoring a mouthful of your linguine. “You have to try this.”
Lando took a bite of your pasta and nodded approvingly. “Wow, that’s really good! But I’ll stick to my risotto for now.”
As dinner continued, the conversation turned more personal. Lando shared stories of his childhood, his dreams, and the pressures of being in the limelight, while you opened up about your own aspirations and the challenges you faced.
“Sometimes, it’s overwhelming,” he confessed, a hint of vulnerability lacing his words. “I mean, I love racing, but it can feel like everyone’s expectations are just weighing down on you.”
You reached across the table, placing your hand on his. “But you’re doing something incredible, Lando. You’re following your passion and inspiring people along the way. Just don’t lose sight of what matters.”
His gaze locked onto yours, lips curving into a smile that reached his eyes. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. I’m lucky to have you around.”
In that moment, you understood something deeper was blossoming between you—a connection that transcended the thrill of racing. It was a shared dream, a mutual understanding, and an undeniable chemistry that lit up the evening.
As the night wore on and the plates were cleared, you felt a mix of contentment and longing. The restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversations, but in your little corner, it was just you and Lando, caught in your own world.
“Next time, we should pick somewhere even more adventurous,” he suggested, a playful gleam in his eyes.
You leaned back, thinking of the possibilities. “That sounds perfect. Let’s make it a tradition.”
Lando grinned, and in that moment, you knew this was just the beginning of something beautiful. You just hope that your feelings won't get in the way. . . .
Layla’s coughs echoed through the empty hall as she wrapped herself tighter in a soft blanket on the couch, trying to drown out the sound of the outside world.
It felt bitterly unfair that her body had rebelled against her just when she’d been looking forward to watching the race with you.
“Hey, Layla,” you called from the kitchen, where you were prepping a few snacks. “I’m heading out now. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
She turned her head slightly, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. “No, really, you should go. I’d just be a downer. Besides, I’d hate to get Lando sick. He’s got that race this weekend!”
“True, but…” you hesitated, feeling the weight of the unspoken words. “I mean, it would have been nice if we could all hang out together. I was kind of hoping you'd be there.”
Layla's smile was faint but brightened her pallid complexion. “I think you’re hoping for more than just ‘hanging out.’ You like him, don’t you?”
You sighed. “Maybe? I mean, after last night’s dinner… I just can’t tell if it was all in my head.”
A soft laugh escaped her lips, quickly followed by a cough. “You actually thought he was, what? Just being polite? You guys were practically flirting all night.”
“Flirting? Really?” You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I thought he was just being friendly. Charming, even. He’s always like that.”
“Yeah, but that look he gave you? Come on! It was like, 'how do I impress you?’ and 'you’re amazing’ wrapped in one.” She coughed again, and you felt guilt worming its way into your chest.
“Maybe he was just being a nice guy. Or he was bored...” you trailed off, unsure.
“Or maybe he’s into you, and you just don’t want to see it,” she countered, her voice softening. “You should go talk to him. Tonight could be your chance!”
You ran a hand through your hair, pondering Layla's words. What if? What if that spark you felt between you was mutual?
You took a deep breath as you nodded. “Okay. I’m going. Just to check in on him.”
“Good! Now go knock his socks off!” Layla replied, her enthusiasm cutting through her congestion. As you waved goodbye, a quiet mix of excitement and apprehension simmered in your stomach.
You arrived at the paddock, the unmistakable hum of excitement buzzing in the air. The energy of fans waving flags and donning their favorite team colors could be felt all around; it was palpable and infectious.
You took a moment to soak it all in, engaging with the fans milling about, sharing smiles and snapshots that captured the thrill of race day.
But amidst the joviality, you couldn't shake off the knot in your stomach. Lando had been acting differently lately, receiving an outpouring of negative comments and disproportionate criticism on social media.
It made your heart ache to see someone so talented being torn down and misunderstood, especially when he had always been so kind and considerate.
Today was supposed to be about racing, but you had a growing worry that Lando might not be able to shake off the weight that was pressing down on him.
Once you greeted the last group of fans, you made your way through the paddock with purpose. The noise faded slightly as you approached Lando's garage—his sanctuary, where he would armor up for the battles on the track.
The energy there was different; it was practically electric, the team buzzing around, making final adjustments to the car and going over the last-minute strategies.
Still, your focus was solely on Lando.
You searched for him in every nook and cranny, peeking into the bustling pit area and checking around the hospitality suites. But a feeling of dread began to take root when you couldn’t find him.
“Maybe he’s in his driver’s room,” you murmured to yourself, trying to push down the worry that lingered like a shadow.
At the door, you hesitated, your heart racing. You knocked once, then twice, listening for the sound of his voice.
When no response came, you slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, half-expecting him to be absorbed in some last-minute race preparation. Instead, the scene that greeted you was far from it.
Lando was curled up on the small, worn sofa, hands wrapped around his knees. He jumped slightly at the sight of you, his eyes wide, a mix of surprise and vulnerability.
“Oh Y/N, I didn’t hear you come in,” he said, forcing on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
You frowned at the sight of him, the dim light casting shadows across his face, revealing red-rimmed eyes. Your heart sank. “Lando… what’s wrong?”
You lowered yourself onto the sofa next to him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to ease your concern.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, the practiced lightness in his voice clashing with the heaviness in the room.
You could see the slight tremor in his hands, and your worry deepened. You reached out, tentatively placing a hand on his knee.
“You’re not fine,” you said softly, searching his face for the usual spark you loved. “I can see it. Talk to me?”
He looked away, glancing out the window at the racetrack where the cars were roaring around the circuit.
You followed his gaze but quickly turned back to him, determined to break through the wall he had put up. “Does it have to do with the race? Is it the pressure?”
Lando shook his head, something between sad and grateful passing over his features. “It’s not that. Just… a lot on my mind, you know?” His words were heavy, like anchors sinking in deep water.
“That’s okay,” you said, shifting closer to him. “I’m here. You don’t have to go through it alone.”
He chuckled softly, though there was no humor behind it. “You’re always here, Y/N. That’s what I like about you. You make it easier.”
“Then let me help you,” you insisted gently, nudging him with your elbow while you tried to coax out a more genuine response.
“Can I get a hug?” you asked, knowing that physical closeness might be the best way to pull Lando out of the shell he’d crawled into.
He hesitated, eyes darting around the room like a deer caught in headlights. Then, hesitantly, he leaned into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
The warmth of his body was comforting, but as he buried his face against the curve of your neck, you felt the tell-tale signs of him holding back. You hugged him tighter, hoping he could feel the strength of your support.
“Let it out,” you whispered, holding him as he exhaled deeply, searching for words that seemed stuck in his throat. “Please.”
You rubbed his back in soothing circles, the silent rhythm cocooning you both in a bubble of softness. You didn't care if you were basically sitting on his lap; all you cared about was Lando.
“It's just... a lot,” he murmured finally, his voice muffled against you. “The media, the fans—they're relentless. I don’t think I can do it today.”
“Shhh…” you soothed, leaning back slightly to bring his gaze toward you. His big, dark eyes looked lost, a storm brewing behind them. “You’re stronger than they think. You love racing, remember? You belong out there.”
He looked away, swallowing hard. You could see the emotions swirling within him, battling between fear and desire, doubt and determination. “But what if I mess up again? What if…”
“Lando,” you interrupted gently. “What if you do great? You can’t let fear write your story for you. You have to give yourself a chance.”
His fingers found your waist as he held you closer, the intensity in his grip conveying everything words could not. “I just don’t want to let anyone down,” he confessed finally, his breath warm against your ear.
“You won’t,” you assured him, your heart racing with the intimacy of the moment. “Not with me by your side. You have me, Lando; I believe in you.”
With every squeezed breath, the hug felt too tight, arms closing around you, squeezing you, pressing together, inch by inch. You could feel his hesitance melting into something else, something deeper, something that felt like your very own electricity.
Lando was the unpredictable force that set your heart aflame. Those arms wrapped tightly around you felt intoxicating, like a drug that sent your pulse racing when the rest of the world faded away.
His phone buzzed, jolting you both back to the reality of the upcoming race.
“It’s Oscar,” he muttered, annoyance tugging at his features. “I don’t want to go; I can’t face the pit or the cameras.”
You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze fully. “Well, I can’t do this for you, but I can be right there with you. You need to let them see how you feel. It’s okay to show vulnerability, Lando.”
He took a deep breath, and you could see the gears in his mind turning. “What if it’s not enough?” he muttered, but the fire in his voice was finally wavering.
“Enough for who?” you pressed. “You don’t have to perform for them. Just do your race, and I’ll be right there cheering for you.”
“Really?” He looked at you, the hope flickering in his gaze almost enough to make you lean in and kiss him.
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You grinned, feeling the air shift between you, filled with the promise of something more.
Suddenly, Oscar’s voice boomed from the other side of the door, urgent and loud. “Lando, it’s time for the race!”
Lando groaned, clearly annoyed at being forced back into reality. “I guess I can’t hide in here forever, huh?”
“Nope. Now come on, let’s get you out there and show them what you’re made of.” You smiled, standing abruptly and holding out your hand to him.
He hesitated for a heartbeat before taking it, and you felt that warm pull between you. The brief moment of intimacy melded into something more solid as he clasped your fingers. He rose to his feet, tilting his head slightly to find your gaze once again.
“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice clear and stronger now. “For everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Probably get a lot more nervous,” you teased lightly, nudging him playfully. “But seriously, let’s go. You’ve got a race to win.”
As Lando Norris crossed the finish line for the fourth time that season, the entire track erupted in a symphony of cheers and celebrations.
You could barely contain your excitement, adrenaline surging through you as you pulled off your headphones, the sounds of the race still echoing in your mind.
All that mattered was Lando—your brilliant, talented Lando.
You joined the staff, a vibrant mix of engineers, mechanics, and strategists, who were all equally charged up. The atmosphere was electric, the air thick with the scent of burnt rubber and victory champagne.
You barely noticed the chaos unfolding around you as everyone rallied around the pit area. The crew, those unwavering supporters who had helped you get closer to Lando before, ushered you closer, their enthusiasm infectious.
“Come on! Right this way!” one of the crew members shouted over the noise, grabbing your hand and leading you through the throng.
You felt your heart race as the crowd’s energy swirled around you, anticipation making you giddy.
“Lando! Lando! Over here!” you shouted, waving your arms above your head like a lunatic.
A couple of crew members pointed in your direction, assisting the chaotic dance of the crowd.
And then it happened. His eyes met yours—green and bright like emeralds sparkling in sunlight. Time seemed to slow as he brightened at the sight, a genuine smile breaking across his face.
Without hesitation, he tore away from the crowd, sprinting toward you. The world blurred around you, the cheers fading until nothing mattered but the two of you.
When he reached you, it was like everything else faded away. He enveloped you in the biggest hug, his head tucked tightly against your neck.
Warmth washed over you, and you couldn’t help but laugh with pure joy.
“You did it! I knew you could!” you shouted, the excitement lacing your words as your arms wrapped around his neck.
His grip tightened as he pulled back to look into your eyes, the sexual tension thick between you. Lando's gaze lingered on your lips momentarily, and something about the way he held his gaze left your heart racing.
“I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on,” he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re my good luck charm.”
“I think it’s the other way around,” you teased playfully. “You’ve got the talent, but I like to think I add a bit of magic.”
Lando chuckled, a sound like music that echoed around you, making your heart flutter. “Well, keep that magic close then, okay?”
Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, just a breath away from your lips. Your breath hitched as the world fell away again, your cheeks flushed with warmth and perhaps a bit more than embarrassment.
“I—I should let you go celebrate with everyone,” you said, almost feeling shy as you took a step back, the rest of the team rallying around him with congratulations.
“Hey,” he said softly, his gaze never wavering as he reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “You’re coming with me, right? We have to celebrate together after!”
You blinked, surprised. “Really? Don't you want to celebrate with only your team?”
“I want to celebrate with you too!” He smiled, an infectious grin that made your heart skip a beat. “We’ll carve out our own little celebration. Just us after.”
Your heart soared. You nodded eagerly. “Okay!”
After the podium celebrations ended, the crowd dispersed, and the atmosphere filled with the crackling excitement of victory turned to an afterglow.
Lando Norris, with his signature grin and a trophy held high, had basked in the limelight, soaking up the roaring applause of the fans.
But that was only a moment for him; now, he was dragged away to the media center, leaving you standing at the edge of the pit lane, heart fluttering with the kiss he had planted on your cheek moments before.
You leaned against the pit wall, watching as he disappeared behind a barrage of cameras and reporters.
The warmth of his fleeting affection lingered on your skin, and a smile crept across your face despite the noise around you.
“Thinking about him, I see,” a voice interrupted your thoughts. You jumped slightly, caught off guard as you turned to see Ethan approaching.
He wore a knowing smirk, one that made your stomach twist of embarrassment.
“Oh, hi Ethan, what are you talking about?” You feigned nonchalance, crossing your arms.
“Lando, I’m talking about Lando,” Ethan replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Look, it’s clear you’ve got this enormous crush on him, but let’s not kid ourselves. He doesn’t like you like that. He’s just being friendly.”
Your heartbeat quickened for a different reason now—a mix of frustration and hurt. “What do you mean he doesn’t like me? He just won a race, and he kissed me, it was sweet.” You tried to sound more confident than you felt.
“Sweet?” Ethan scoffed. “That was just a celebratory peck. You know how he is with his fans. He flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean he has a thing for you.”
You rolled your eyes, pushing back against his doubt. “But it felt different. The way he looked at me before he left… Ethan, we’ve talked, we’ve laughed.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Look, you’re a great person, and I get that you want to believe he’s into you. But do you really think he’s capable of liking someone with all of this fame and pressure around him? He’s got a busy life, and girlfriends are just more trouble in that world.”
The frustration bubbled in your chest. “You sound like my mom,” you shot back, unable to hide the sharpness in your tone. “You don’t even know him like I do.”
“Fair enough,” Ethan said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But you’ve got to admit, you’re setting yourself up for a huge disappointment here. Just... don’t get your hopes too high. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”
His exasperation was genuine, but it only deepened your resolve. “And I wouldn’t want to live my life scared to try because of what ‘might’ happen.”
Ethan sighed. “Okay, I’m not trying to ruin your fantasy. I just want you to be realistic.”
“Realistic or pessimistic?” you countered.
He laughed softly, the tension in the air easing just a bit. “Alright, let’s call it realistic, then.”
“Lando doesn’t like you that way,” Ethan had said, concern etched on his features.
Those words replayed in your head like a broken record, setting a tight knot in your stomach every time you thought of the charming driver.
Just as you attempted to shake off the lingering doubt, a staff member materialized out of thin air, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “Lando wants to see you now.”
“Thanks!” you called out, excusing yourself from Ethan’s company.
You felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you navigated through the hubbub of the garage, pushing aside doubts that had lingered since your morning conversation with Ethan.
Finally standing before Lando’s driver’s room, you raised your hand and knocked gently. “Come in,” his voice called out, warm and inviting.
You opened the door to find Lando leaning against the wall, a genuine smile lighting his face, so different from the frown of earlier that day. “Hi, champ!” you greeted him, a spark of joy igniting within you.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, standing upright as he approached you. “I’m really glad you’re here.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and you could feel an electric tension crackling in the air between you.
You both settled into a rhythm of lighthearted conversation, laughing and reminiscing about the week’s events, but underneath every playful jab and shared joke, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the chemistry that simmered between you.
Lando’s gaze felt heavy on you, filled with unexpressed words that lingered just beyond reach.
The air crackles with an unspoken tension as you stare into Lando's eyes, a mix of confusion and yearning coursing through every nerve in your body.
You can feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you, a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach as you try to decipher the myriad emotions swirling between you.
“So,” Lando began, his voice almost a whisper, eyes glistening with something serious, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
His voice quivers with uncertainty, the weight of his unexpressed feelings hanging heavily in the atmosphere, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
Your mind raced back to Ethan’s words: “Lando doesn’t like you, Y/N. He’s just playing around.” You shook your head slightly. You wouldn’t let yourself believe that.
You couldn’t allow the confusion between friendship and something more to blur in your mind; it was too painful.
He said, his tone firm yet tender. “I like you, Y/N.”
“You don’t, you can’t,” you protest meekly, recalling the stinging words Ethan had casually tossed your way, words that left a lingering ache in your chest.
The notion that Lando might not harbor genuine feelings for you feels like a betrayal, an unwelcome specter haunting the edges of this beautiful moment.
“Y/N—” His voice was earnest, but you shook your head, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay.
“Please don’t joke about that. If you don’t like me—if you’re just messing around—then don’t joke about it.” Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the bubble of hope forming in your chest.
“Why do you think I’m saying this?” he asked, his voice low and laced with emotion. “Why would I bother if I didn’t mean it? This isn’t just some casual fling for me. I care about you, and it’s driving me insane keeping it all bottled up!”
You took a step back, your back hitting the closed door. “Lando, please, you can’t say that!” Tears began to stream down your cheeks unbidden.
“Why not?” he challenged softly, moving closer again, his gaze intense. “Why can’t I? Are you really going to deny what’s been between us? You feel it too right?”
The truth in his words shattered your defenses. “Lando, I—” Your voice broke, and the words tumbled out, heavier than you imagined.
“I’ve never been someone’s first choice before. It’s hard to believe that you actually want me.”
“Then believe me,” he urged, his hand gently cupping your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he whispered, “You deserve to hear it, and I mean every word.”
You melted into him, your head resting against his chest while he held you tightly—firmly yet gently, a safe haven amidst your unraveling emotions.
He didn’t flinch as the tears soaked his shirt.
“I’m scared,” you admitted, sniffling against his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose this.”
“You won’t lose me. Not ever,” he promised, pulling back slightly so he could look into your eyes. “Just give us a chance. I won’t hurt you.”
After a long while, you managed to calm down, your heart still racing but your breaths a little steadier. Lando pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes; the concern etched on his face warmed you.
“Can I kiss you?” Lando asked, his voice laced with just a hint of uncertainty, as if he feared this moment would evaporate into thin air.
Time seemed to stand still as you considered his question. You could feel the heat radiating between you, a magnetic pull that drew you closer.
This was the moment you had both been dancing around, the very reason for the tension that crackled in the air.
You felt a flutter in your stomach at the question, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. “Yes,” you finally breathed out, the single word filled with yearning.
His eyes sparkled, and he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t; if anything, your heart raced as he brushed his lips against yours, soft and hesitant at first.
His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes of the feelings you both had kept hidden for too long. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a warm embrace, filled with the promise of love and acceptance.
As the kiss deepened, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. It was as if everything you had fought against—the doubt, the fear—melted away, replaced with the certainty of Lando’s affection.
You knew, right then and there, that you had finally found someone who would stay, who truly wanted you for who you were.
When the kiss finally broke, you rested your forehead against his, your hearts still racing from the intensity of it all. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you murmured.
“Don’t be,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I finally got to you.”
And in that moment, surrounded by a haze of newfound love and vulnerability, you both knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.
Something that you both deserved. . . . .
#lando norris x reader#lando norizz#lando norris#lando x reader#lando imagine#miami gp 2024#oscar piastri#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x oc#x you#x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula one#formula racing#lando x you#lando x y/n#mclaren#mclaren f1#mclaren racing#mclaren formula 1#mclaren formula one#f1 2024#miami grand prix
436 notes
·
View notes
Note
Please, PLEASE Tulpar crew x a very shy/introverted reader who is like crushing on the crew really hard but way too shy and embarrassed to tell them but like the crew starts to slowly catch on to them and the way they act different around them. Also I don't mean the crew as a whole I mean the separate characters 😭🙏🏽
ask and u shall receive 😈
-------------------------------------------------------
OH GOD, YOU CAN TELL?
----------------------------
Captain Curly
-oh.. curly knew from the moment you laid eyes on him that you had the biggest crush on him.
-there is no slow realization.
-not at all oblivious to it.
-everytime your eyes would seemingly uncontrollably and totally unconsciously drift to him he would try to meet your gaze with a friendly, boyish smirk.
-does that happen? HELL NAH. you are much too shy to even look the captain in the eye.
-your little heart almost beats out of your chest at any interaction. little or big.
-"Hey, just the person I needed to see. I have a little favor to ask you."
-oh god. suddenly words seem hard to pronounce and the entirety of the english language is no where to be seen.
-after a few weeks, curly would definitely find this endearing.
-i feel like since curly is so outgoing, he would be very intrigued by someone who is the complete opposite.
-curly wouldn't act much different when it comes to you, due to maintaining professionalism as his role as captain.
-he may due small acts like making a cake simply to indulge in your sweet-tooth that he somehow knew about you.
-"oh, we just had extra packets of sugar. i just thought id bake something. you like cake right?"
-cheeky motherfucker.
Intern Daisuke
-dude is so so so oblivious even though you make it perfectly clear...
-you could be making like.. making out with the guy and he'd be like,
-"yoo, we are literally besties right?"
-deadass, he prolly had no idea you liked him for weeks.
-you could be laughing extra loud at his jokes then realize ur laughing too loud, look at him while he isn't looking at you, sneak an extra sweetener packet on his bed when he isn't around,,,,
-his ass still is clueless.
-it takes either curly or swansea's help to realize that you had a massive crush on him but were just to shy to say something.
-once he realizes, he is now all over you and following you around like a lost puppy. not nonchalant at ALL.
-literally tries to pick up the polle statue to show his 'guns' but the statue moves only an inch..
-now he is hyper aware of your actions and reactions, he finds your shyness just SO CUTE WTFFF.
-compliments you to see what you would do.
-"man, have you always been this hot or is it just the sweetener talking?"
-runs away.....
-would steal sweetener packets just for you two to share :)
Nurse Anya
-i feel like she notices how different you act around her, but she just thinks its because you two are good friends.
-she never assumes anything, just her friend being friendly.
-even though you sometimes make it unintentionally obvious..
-like this one time you recommend her a book from your quarters library and her fingers lightly grazed yours reaching for it.
-oh shit. her soft hands touched yours. oh god what does a normal person do in this situation??
-"thank you for the-oh... book."
-well, they don't smile awkwardly, sweat pouring down their face and leave in a hurry with the book still in their hand.
-anya isn't stupid or completely oblivious by any means. she definitely knew from this encounter of your little crush on her.
-she is quite flattered honestly. someone so similar to her truly likes her?
-when she fully processes this information, she is very subtle with how she shows her affection back.
-during check-ups, she sometimes gives you a treat from one of her desk drawers for being a good patient.
-other times she lets you join her late at night in the lounge to just look at the pretty night time screen.
-"this makes me miss home. it's so beautiful."
-you'd look over at her and her eyes are not on the screen, far from it actually.
-her eyes are on you.
-so this is what a heart attack feels like..
Mechanic Swansea
-unpopular hot-take, swansea is actually a dilf and he often has younger men/women confess their feelings to him.
-so because of that headcanon, swansea definitely knows how you feel from the first time y'all met.
-your eyes would subconsciously peek at his open shirt revealing his chest. suspiciously, whenever he would look back, you quickly turn away shyly...
-he immediately thinks he is way to old for this shit. he just got out of a divorce and prolly never wanted to try again. especially with someone younger.
-"what is with this damn younger generation with old people.."
-he tries to avoid you even though you two are co-workers and.. work together. on the same ship.
-as weeks go by, your shyness starts to grow on this grumpy man. he... he thinks it's endearing in a sense..
-he rather likes how reserved you are, and how are aren't as loudmouthed as daisuke.
-he won't act much different to you, but according to the rest of the crew it is obvious.
-swansea leaves little sticky notes reminding you to eat or sleep because and the sticky note quotes,,
-"..the crew doesn't need you passin' out while doin' your job. so eat or i will make you."
-swansea is also much more soft-spoken with you than anyone else.
-he has never raised his voice or spoken down on you. his usual brashness and snarky remarks are now toned down (but not entirely) around you.
-"hey. i didn't say you had to leave, did i? stop puttin' words in my damn mouth and sit."
Co-captain Jimmy
-jimmy prolly doesn't even acknowledge you at first.
-you could be looking at him, thinking he doesn't know that your eyes are skimming over his face and body.
-oh but jimmy.. he does know,,, but he never shows that he does.
-he likes the attention on him. your eyes looking him over when she doesn't even know that he is soaking it up.
-im sorry but he definitely gets off to the fact that you are shy and get flustered easily.
-he loves how malleable and submissive you are due to your shyness. and he uses it to his advantage.
-he shows his affection strongly after he knows your crush.like sometimes he would purposefully follow you places and when you turn around he'd be like..
-"do you mind? you're in my way.."
-i feel like he wouldn't know how to properly express his feelings so he would be kind of unnecessarily mean and cruel.
-and after he would be mean he would be nice and extra affectionate so you would still like him.
-like you could be working on something and is critical about your work.
-"are you serious? tsk.. move, since you clearly cannot perform a basic task."
-then later he's like..
-"im glad someone on this ship is helpful, like you."
-basically, he purposefully plays with your feelings to get you to confess bc i feel like he likes when women cone to him.....
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader#swansea x reader#swansea mouthwashing#daisuke x reader#daisuke mouthwashing#anya x reader#anya mouthwashing#curly x reader#curly mouthwashing#jimmy x reader#jimmy mouthwashing
386 notes
·
View notes
Text
Holidays w/ Him
Your first year living with your favorite lads man and you get to spend the holidays together. How I imagine they act during this holiday season. [Requested by: 🌻 Anon]
𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎
𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘
He’s the boyfriend who stands behind you and guides your hands in whatever food you’re prepping
Still a workaholic up until Thanksgiving day, but will find time to help you cook
Suggests to make more desserts because he can’t control his sweet tooth
makes your plate for you “Eat well my love”
tries to start his meal with a slice of pie ; you have to take it and make him eat some actual food first “Desserts are for after the meal” “Desserts can be a meal” “No”
tidying up behind you so much that you don’t even get the chance to help clean up
would definitely do a video call with you to his parents to wish them happy holidays
if you take him home to your family your parents would fall in love with him immediately
ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤
wants all the holiday sweets and treats
the type of boyfriend who wants to take you to every bakery so you can eat their limited time only holiday sweets
he brings you hot chocolate with marshmallows and a splash of peppermint while you decorate the house
stands by holding the decorations for you
he would definitely still be working during this time but, he would spend every moment he could with you when he’s home
watches Christmas movies with you until you fall asleep and he carries you to bed
hides your gifts in his office at the hospital if you start getting nosy
all over you when you’re baking Christmas cookies, showering you in kisses, arms constantly wrapped around you and sneaking a cookie here and there when you’re not looking
Cozy morning w/ Christmas breakfast before you exchange gifts
ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤
Wants to give you that New Years kiss you’ve been talking about
takes you to a secluded rooftop patio where you can see the fireworks and share a kiss “Now we’ll last forever” “There was never a doubt in my mind”
if he’s working he rushes home just to give you that kiss at midnight
𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕
𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘
100% a backseat chef while you’re cooking “You should probably turn the heat down” “Can you go paint or something?”
clingy af he would be all in your face while you’re trying to cook “Are you going to help or are you just gonna hang on me like a koala” “I am helping im here for moral support”
gets extremely competitive when your family pulls out any game “Im about to flip the table” “Please don’t”
Eats so elegantly your parents are wondering if you’re dating royalty (which you are)
ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤
Bought the biggest tree he can find “This is going to take weeks to decorate” “You should just stay here for the rest of the month then”
arts and crafts everything for decorations, he’s painting ornaments with you, anything you can find that you want as a decoration believe he will be making it for you/with you
complains about the cold like he hasn't experienced it before as you drag him to go ice skating or sledding “It’s too cold why is the sun out and i'm still freezing” “Maybe because thats how winter works Raf” “I hate it here”
wakes you up early as hell to open gifts, loves literally anything you buy him
Christmas movie nights w/ face masks, popcorn snacks, and matching pajamas
heavy on the matching pajamas, bought 12 pairs for 12 days of Christmas
ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤
watches the fireworks with you through the studio floor to ceiling windows wrapped in a blanket
doesn’t understand why you want a new years kiss so bad, but he’ll gladly do it of course
sips his champagne and pushes the cold liquid into your mouth as he kisses you now you shared a kiss and a drink right at midnight "I call that a two for one deal" "Stop talking"
𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛
𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘
Fighting tooth and nail to keep his ass out the kitchen “Xavier I got it don’t worry” “I can just stir the yams” “No really it’s fine just go relax you had a long day”
You end up letting him slice the turkey and he ends up slicing through the whole damn pan “Why don’t you just set the table….” “Yes ma’am”
not a single leftover because this man ate everything
if you took him home to your family for Thanksgiving your parents are questioning if you starve him “He has a bottomless pit in his stomach” “No I don’t” “Lie again”
ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤
Cold snowy days you two aren’t leaving the bed, he’s curling around you and snoring softly into your boobs
helps you decorate the tree, but asks endless questions “Where do you want this one?” “Just put it anywhere Xav” “Is right here fine?” “Yes right there is fine” “What about this one?” he’s not trying to annoy you he just wants Christmas with you to be perfect
Cookie decorating together, no cooking so it should be safe
late nights ordering in and watching Christmas movies or reading some books that fit the Christmas aesthetic
ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤
watches fireworks with you from the balcony with warm eggnog topped with cinnamon
be prepared to stay up late after that midnight kiss because he’s not stopping, both sets of lips will get kissed
𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜
𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘
Spending thanksgiving with him and the boy was like a mini family of it’s own
Luke and Kieran helped you prep and you made Sylus help as well “I need to slow cook these greens overnight so start removing the leaf from the stem please” “Are you telling me what to do?” “Yes …. I am …. is there a problem?”
Sylus constantly sends the twins and Mephisto back to the store so he has a reason to be alone with you while you’re cooking
constantly brings up how the chef should be doing this, but you insist that the whole point is to cook together "You know you can just send a menu to the chef" "No it's more home-y this way"
ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤
hands you his black card and takes you store to store telling you to have fun "I can buy anything I want?" "Anything"
takes you to a privately owned resort (He owns it) for a holiday Christmas trip, bringing Luke and Kieran along begrudgingly because you ‘didn’t want to leave your boys behind’
all those pictures and videos you sent him of fun stuff to do around the holidays he makes it happen
you wanna go snowboarding? he’s on it. Skiing? done. glass blowing Christmas ornaments? done.
Watches with the softest smile on his face as you and the twins decorate the big ass tree you picked out “Sylus I need you” “What is it Princess?” “Let me sit on your shoulders so I can get these ornaments on top of the tree” rolls his eyes, but puts you on his shoulders anyway
wraps you up in his arms and a blanket while you four have a Christmas movie night; carries you to bed when you fall asleep
watches Christmas musicals with you as well
living room is overflowing with gifts for you because this man bought you everything you’ve mentioned that you wanted for the past 3 months
his face may look annoyed when you drag him around from store to store and activity to activity, but he’s more than happy to do it as long as he’s with you
ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤
Argues with you until 11:59pm just to piss you off “How does good luck factor into this?” “Im not about to argue with you about this” “Too late sweetie you’ve been arguing with me for the last fifteen minutes” “Because you’re being so difficult do you not want-” he’d shut you up with a kiss right at midnight. “I guess this means we’ll last forever now huh?”
#love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#sylus#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lads#lads rafayel#lads xavier#lads zayne#lads sylus#lnds#lnds x you#lnds xavier#lnds rafayel#lnds zayne#rafayel love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#nikaaaaimagine
303 notes
·
View notes
Text
it's okay... (sjy)
pairing: jake x afab!reader
synopsis: Jake's sensitiveness was, ironically enough, a sensitive topic to him. What would you think seeing him getting so desperate over a few gentle touches on his back?
my's note: inspired by ari's talking w me about jake being sensitive lol
warnings: established relationship, jake is very sensitive to readers touches and is shy about it, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, jake cums untouched, desperate, needy and sensitive jake, dry humping? kinda?, literally reader caressing jake's back and him coming with that lol, he nearly cries. lmk if i missed something!
wc: 4.3k
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse
Jake was sensitive. So sensitive. And everywhere.
You and he started dating not so long ago; three months into a beautiful and comfortable relationship, he showed you plenty of possibilities of how to like and eventually love someone. He was steadily and easily climbing to the rank of being the man of your life.
Every nuance of your relationship with Jake was delightful, cozy, gentle. He cared for you with genuine affection and always tried his hardest to give you the best of the best – if felt contrastingly effortless and intentional, offering you a reliable safe haven.
The physical side of your relationship was equally fulfilling. From the start, your boyfriend had been nothing but respectful towards your boundaries, leaving the pace entirely in your hands. Jake let you decide when the touches were just innocent, light ones, and when they started to dive deep into something more profound, more intense, something you eventually named as lust, laced with passion and need.
Jake was fucking hot. He didn’t disappoint – never did. With his skilled tongue and mouth, he made sure to send you to heaven, to hell and back to earth in minutes of work on your pussy, leaving you panting, breathless, aching for more, chanting his name like a messy mantra. And down onto his body he didn’t lack as well, allowing you to see stars with deep and precise thrusts, touching your g-spot as if he knew ever since the beginning.
Jake knew how to please a girl – his girl.
But there was a constant lingering, unspoken tension whenever you touched him.
Jake was the most sensitive person you ever met. Just the idea of your fingertips grazing his biceps was enough to make him rock hard – an information he for sure didn’t give you and prayed you didn’t notice either.
What would you think if you knew? If you realized how easily and powerful your touch flustered him? How the mere fantasy of your hands roaming his body could make him feel like the world’s most hopelessly horny man?
The thought haunted him and he kept it locked away, terrified of what you might say if you uncovered just how badly he wanted – needed – you.
Jake came to realize that you put his entire being under a specific and delicious spell as soon as he fell for you. Better: as soon as he saw you.
The first encounter was unplanned and with no expectations attached to it, after all, who thinks a party fling could turn into something real? Jake still had a vivid memory of how the curves of your hot body fitted your outfit that night, hugging your figure with care and just the right amount of temptation that got his body weak, pulling close like a magnet.
He paid for your drinks willingly, thinking a pretty woman like you deserved to be treated just how she wanted to; he didn’t ask for anything in return, though – a kiss nor your number. He just cherished your presence, your sweet talk and your way of gesticulating when speaking.
Jake sat by your side for the rest of that night sharing his interests, genuinely happy with your warm and approachable reception.
He also cheered silently when you pressed your soft lips onto his before heading your way out without faltering or looking back, leaving behind a desperate man missing the touch of your gorgeous fingers on his locks and your tongue against his.
The following encounters happened at a pace you wanted. Yes, you wanted.
When you got home, you couldn’t help but notice how affected you felt by the gentle, caring touch of that respectful guy you had kissed. It wasn’t typical for you to attend parties, let alone kiss strangers – or even recent acquaintances. Your values nudged you towards something more reserved, something more personal.
But Jake awakened a sense of ease in you, offering a space of trust that utterly charmed you. Maybe it was the sweet way he spoke, or the way the corners of his lips curled up into that soft, boyish smile. He was gorgeous – and he seemed so affectionate, not to mention undeniably hot.
You looked Jake up on Instagram and found him effortlessly, and your meetings happened casually, until they culminated in an intimate moment: when he asked you to be his girlfriend.
Not long after, you guided him into the beginning of your shared sexual journey as a couple. And it was so, so good to find someone whose tastes and desires aligned so well with yours.
You felt powerful and confident knowing the effect you had on Jake. It was almost funny to notice how even something as simple as you wearing one of his shirts could leave him hard and needy.
Alongside that, Jake also shamelessly acted as if you owned him, from casually asking your permission to go out with his friends, to making sure he was never out of your sight for too long. You never asked him to behave that way, but when you questioned his actions, he simply shrugged it off, claiming it was for his own pleasure. He liked the idea of you having control over him.
And you definitely did.
Yeah, Jake was sensitive with any type of touches, even when his friends hugged him he would squirm if their hands caressed his back in certain places, but you… You got him wrapped around your finger easily.
He never found the right words to describe the amount of pleasure he felt when your fingers grazed his arms, or caressed the back of his neck, or touched his hair, or just got in contact with any other place of his body.
Just you and your beautiful hands traveling through each inch of his skin were more than enough to elicit soft moans, a pathetic roll of eyes and a shiver down his dick.
You were now sitting on your bed, back lazily resting on the headboard with your legs stretched forward, while Jake napped by your side, lying on his stomach and hugging one of your many pillows; his soft snores getting lost in between the sounds of war coming from the TV, proving he was getting deep into his sleep little by little.
The agreement between you both involved Jake watching the movie with you, but he was so, so exhausted from work that you didn’t even consider starting an argument – though, honestly, you probably wouldn’t have anyway. Jake was such a sweetheart, and in your opinion, he had already done so much by coming to your place instead of his, even though yours was half an hour farther.
After you demanded him to go to sleep and he demanded you to go watch the movie without him, you found yourself in that exact position; your boyfriend sleeping and your hands wanting to caress his silky strands, as a way to casually fidget with something.
You didn’t hold yourself and softly placed your fingertips to thread through Jake’s hair, just like you always did when he laid on your lap.
Jake thought he was dreaming, his mind confused, caught somewhere between reality and sleep, making it difficult for him to figure out why his body was tingling.
But it wasn’t a bad tingling, no. In fact, it was the same sensation he felt whenever you touched him – the pleasant shiver of your fingers tracing warm wonders wherever they wandered, the rush of pleasure melting away the self-control Jake had worked so hard to maintain, just so you wouldn’t see how completely he had fallen apart before your mere touches.
...
Jake’s eyes snapped open, and his body tensed immediately when the realization hit: you were gently stroking his hair with the same affection you always did, that natural, tender gesture of love shared between those who cared deeply for each other. But your daring hands didn’t seem to want to stop there. They trailed down the back of his neck, sending an instant shiver through his body.
You didn’t notice right away, but your boyfriend shifted slightly, fighting the moan that threatened to escape his throat as you obliviously continued your loving touch. It quickly became a difficult task for him to remain silent when you began to play with the small hairs at the back of his neck, absentmindedly pausing and resuming your movements while your attention was entirely on the plot of the movie, as if your touch had become as instinctive as Jake's exaggerated reactions.
He didn’t want to alarm you or draw your attention to the growing – hard – problem beneath his pants, however, with each delicate stroke of your skin against his still covered one, waves of pleasure washed over him, making it nearly impossible for his breath to maintain its stability.
The sensation was intoxicating and desperate, because it fueled the fear of getting caught together with the craving to keep going, to keep driving through that induced high Jake was slowly allowing himself to go.
As your fingers continued their gentle, nonchalant exploration, Jake’s body began to contort a bit more, especially when your fingertips started to softly draw random shapes along the sensitive surface of his back.
His fucking back.
Jake had a certain spot that, when touched just the right way, could completely unravel him. A single, subtle touch there and his body would jolt, almost instinctively trying to pull away, but if the one doing the touching was you, the reaction was entirely different.
The sensation, instead of causing discomfort, flooded his body with warmth, sending a slow, delightful buzz straight to his lower parts, where stood his growing desire mixed with the pleasure that seemed to bloom with every caress.
Completely unaware of how affected Jake was getting, you continued to calmly trace your fingers along the contours of his spine, leaving trails of warmth on it. Eventually, you felt the hardness of his back underneath your touch tensing, but you didn’t mind, knowing Jake was sensitive and was probably only automatically shifting away, the way he always seemed to do.
The movie drew your concentration intensely enough for you to barely hear when Jake whined, blending almost perfectly with the fight scene unfolding before your eyes on the TV. You took another quick notice of his body writhing with more constancy, nearly matching your movements, yet again, you didn’t give it any proper attention.
Jake was on the verge of crying in despair, whines and moans getting lost amidst the soft pillow and his mouth pressing onto it, aware that he would snap into a complete mess if he lost control over his body – and he felt it slowly slipping through without giving him the chance to fight for it, swelling the urge, the yearn for more.
Instinctively, his eyes shut close and hips started to rut against the mattress, hoping that the sheet covering his body would occult his nasty attempts of getting some relief, knowing that he could cum just by the way you touched his body.
Jake also silently prayed for the loud scene on the TV to continue on for just a few more minutes, long enough for him to savor the tantalizing sensation coursing through his veins and stifle his sounds. It was as though he were on the edge to melt – a relaxation that wasn’t calming at all but instead left him craving more, his mind hazed in a state of unbearable anticipation, building up something intense and way too addictive.
Suddenly, his entire body trembled, almost like a spasm, a wave of numbing electricity surging through every inch of him. It pulled a rather loud moan from his previously pursed lips, escaping together with his failed attempt to squirm away.
You had, entirely by accident, let your fingertips graze featherlight over that spot on his back – right in the center, where even the faintest touch, especially one as delicate as yours, had the power to drive him completely insane, unraveling every shred of control he thought he had.
A puzzled expression immediately crossed your face as your gaze fell on your boyfriend, still lying on his stomach but now visibly tense, his breathing uneven. Slowly, the pieces began to fall into place: the way his body wouldn’t stop shifting, the sounds – now unmistakably coming from him, not the movie.
Jake fell nervously silent right after, his dick twitching, already wetting his underwear with the leaking precum; the heat travelled towards his neck and face, leaving his skin flaming hot with embarrassment, because for his misfortune, the scene in the movie was now calm, with no soundtracks or voices to cover his noises.
You lowered the volume from the TV, so you could be heard by Jake as your quiet voice filled the room.
“Baby, are you alright?”
Perhaps Jake was feeling sick with the amount of movements he was doing and the small painful sounds he was letting out when you finally paid attention to. Consequently, you halted your action of brushing your fingers randomly on his back, now resting your palm completely flat on it, oblivious of how hot Jake was feeling under your touch.
“No– D–Don’t stop–”
His voice was muffled due to his position and the fact that he wanted to actively hide himself from you, ashamed of his pathetic reaction with such innocent touches. Nonetheless, in a twist, he threw all restraint to the wind, fully surrendering to the blissful sensation you were providing him, embracing his embarrassing helpless, meek persona.
You, however, furrowed your brows, confused. “What?”
“Your hand–” He exasperated the exact moment you hinted to remove your hand away, arching his torso towards where he thought you could be, as if searching for them. “Please, don’t stop…”
Reading through his words and demeanor, you struggled to comprehend entirely what they were about, so you simply stayed there, waiting for further instruction, because the only reasonable conclusion you could draw was that Jake was silently asking you to keep touching his back, in a whimpering voice.
“Jake, love… I don’t think I understand…”
“Just keep going,” he mumbled, now grabbing your wrist without facing you, to place your fingers back on where they should be, forcing the motion you were doing before. “Your fingers on my back. Please, just… Keep going.”
Even without Jake looking at you, you blinked twice and cocked your head to the side, utterly bewildered.
“You mean…” You trailed off, resuming to trace gentle patterns with your fingertips, still uncertain. “This?”
The answer was immediate. Even without Jake’s verbal response, you knew you got it right because he jolted slightly and moaned under his breath, trembling.
“Fuck– Y–Yes…”
You positioned yourself better to keep drawing random things on his clothed back, just like he solicited.
Part of you was still a bit confused, but you couldn’t ignore the soft, breathy moans that Jake was starting to let out again. Slowly but surely, you began to piece the puzzle together – the way his hips shifted, grinding ever so slightly into the mattress, his movements gaining a rhythm, a near-thrusting motion, his sudden breathy moans, his needy voice.
Your touch, innocent and unintentional, was being turned into something far from pure under Jake’s judgment; each subtle graze of your fingertips across his skin seemed to push him further into a state of intoxicating desperation. It was ridiculous, lascivious, and utterly delicious to your ears and your growing curiosity.
"Aw, baby," you cooed, your voice dripping with a mix of amusement and teasing affection. "Are you really this sensitive?"
A muffled hum was all he could manage to mumble, his face now buried in the pillow in a feeble attempt to hide the flush spreading across his cheeks. But shame couldn’t hold his need; his pleasure was overwhelming, spilling out in brazen sounds and increasingly shameless movements.
"Or," you taunted again with a smirk, letting your hand glide a little lower, earning another gasp from him, "is it me? Am I the cause of this?"
"You," he murmured, his voice broken but certain. "Always you."
His unwavering answer sent a thrilling shiver down your spine, and though his face was hidden, you could feel how much control he was losing, surrendering entirely to your touch. His hips moved with more purpose now, and his muffled, constant moans were a symphony of surrender and desire, a beautiful melody that let your panties ruined with your growing arousal.
“So dirty, aren’t you?”
Jake didn’t assign to have you playing with his most sensitive spot while talking in such a velvety voice when he chose you as his girlfriend, but he was definitely happy knowing you were enjoying it as much as him; your low chuckle to his instant, urgent reaction reiterating it.
“N–No…” He shook his head. “‘M not, it’s just–”
“It’s okay…” A soothing whisper escaped your lips, eyes once full of amusement now dropping to a darker shade, hooded, as the air grew thicker; the necessity of pleasuring your man bubbled within your core with each passing second, an ache you didn’t know existed until now. “Does that feel good, baby?”
Jake groaned a soft hum, his body betraying him with a wave of desire flushing through it. He squirmed beneath your touch, his shoulders jerking upward involuntarily when your fingers traced a deliberate, lingering line from the base of his spine up to the nape of his neck. The movement was slow, tantalizing, and precisely intoxicating.
Every muscle in his body seemed to tighten as he whimpered softly, his voice muffled by the pillow. His reaction only spurred you on, your touch becoming a little bolder, savoring the way his body responded so beautifully to every slight motion of your fingers.
“Can you really cum just by this, my love?” Your voice curled through the air, low and calm, yet amused with how responsive Jake’s was being, his shameless impulses of getting himself off untouched eliciting a clench on your pussy.
“I dunno…”
In between Jake’s answer, you propped yourself with a knee on each side of his waist, not completely leaving your full weight to sit on him, but mainly to give a proper access for your fingernails to wander carefree in direct contact with his skin, as they sneaked beneath the soft white fabric of his shirt, meeting the goosebumped flesh that yearned for more of your sweet, slow touches.
Jake could feel his underwear growing wetter with the steady, uncontrollable leak of precum seeping from the swollen tip of his dick. His damp forehead pressed into the pillow, leaving only a narrow space for him to breathe, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the heat consumed him.
Was your room always that hot?
“Should we try?”
You let only a hand inside his shirt so you would be able to support yourself with the other, as you lowered your torso forward, enough to have your lips finding a place on his sensitive neck, your warm muscle dancing deliberately against the flesh that reacted instantly to your stimulus.
Jake was far from thinking straight, aligning his body to settle you more comfortably, though his true intention was to drive through the delicious high that was building up in his lower stomach, his abdomen tightening within each subtle draw you were tracing, teetering towards the dangerous edge of coming undone and untouched before your caress.
“Shit–”
The curse spilled past his parted lips amidst a sequence of messy moans due to the overwhelmness of your presence over his whole body, leaving him writhing, wincing, trembling with need. His hips moved slightly frantic with the crescent blazing necessity of releasing his orgasm, grinding against the mattress as he desperately chased relief.
“Feels good, Jakey?” You murmured, lips brushing against the top of his ear, tickling the sensitive area, causing more shivers to run his body.
“Yes, fuck– Yes– Mhm–” His stuttered words were music to your ears, loving how he was melting, falling, dissolving under your control.
However, deep down Jake felt a sudden wave of despair and remorse mingling with the lustful desire that had been fueled by your constancy. His thoughts spiraled, and for a moment, he felt utterly pathetic, questioning how he could be so stupid, acting like a desperate fool just from a few gentle and innocent caresses.
It was like his mind got so lost in pleasure, that it dived too deep into his past and consequently revisited those reminiscences that once was his biggest fear. Panic seized him, his thoughts racing in horror at what you might be thinking, terrified of how vulnerable and broken he must look in your eyes.
“I’m so sorry...” Jake whispered, his voice thick with emotion, almost breaking into a sob, his back arching within a wave because, even apologetical, he kept on drifting through the amazing feel of getting closer to his climax.
Aware of the possible overthinking nature of your boyfriend threatening to bloom, you shook your head softly, the tip of your nose grazing sweetly against his neck.
“Shh, it’s okay, Jakey,” you reassured in a quiet whisper. “This is completely normal, my love. You look so beautiful falling apart for me.”
You dared to lower your fingernails to his sides, tickling the area ever so slightly before dragging them out of his shirt to play with the inner part of his exposed biceps, as he laid with his arms tucked under the pillow and gave you easy access.
Your eyes tried to search for him, but Jake was actively avoiding his pathetically broken expression to be read by your curious gaze, especially as he felt his release getting extremely near to snapping into a complete wet mess.
“‘M so close…”
It was clear by the way he sounded – shaky – and how his crotch area sought for even more friction within his frantic grinds that he wasn’t lying.
Jake’s moans shattered into whimpers that you had never had the special privilege of hearing until now, grateful that your boyfriend had, albeit initially unknowingly, allowed you to witness such a delectable piece of his existence, drenched in rising desire and pleasure.
You found yourself hoping he would feel comfortable enough to show you more, now that you knew just how deeply it affected you to experience this moment with him.
It was a melodic symphony that melted your self-control, pushing you to the edge, to the point where you almost, almost fell into the idea of rubbing yourself against any available part of his body, desperate to join him in his search for release that night.
Jake looked so beautiful, so irresistibly sexy, as he got lost in the vastness of his own sensitivity, surrendering completely to his instincts, to the overwhelming need to come, no longer caring how foolish he might appear to you, driven by pure, raw desire.
“Come for me, baby,” you whispered, your voice inviting, tempting, your hand back to lightly graze the curve of his spine as you guided him towards where he needed the most. “Lemme see your mess, mhm?”
“Fuck–” Jake let out a louder moan, at the same time his fingers grasped the sheet beneath his palms, and his whole body trembled with an unbearable sensation of flood, as though his failed attempts of preventing to burst out embarrassingly prematurely, untouched, poured through his every pore within an intense force when he let go. “Fuck, fuck, fuck– Cumming–”
You couldn’t deny that Jake’s whole reaction was driving you, yourself, insane. The desperate way he sounded, so vulnerable, helplessly chanting a mix of your name and parted whimpers and groans, as if he got lost into a maze of a lustful bliss he didn’t want to go away from so easily, and let the responsibility on you, you to lead the way.
“I’ve got you, my love,” your hot breath fanned his nape, a small smirk gracing the curve of your lips as you murmured against the shell of his ear, fingers still dancing lightly on his heated, smooth flesh. “My messy, sensitive boy… Yeah?”
Jake rolled his closed eyes in pleasure, because he was still a bit tipsy from your scent, your mild touches, your comfortableness that allowed his particular part to shine without shying away completely.
“Mhm…” He quietly nodded. “Yours.”
Though Jake was the one achieving his climax, you also felt completely satisfied after your not-so-hard work; you enjoyed, no, you loved to explore this new possibility, this new slope of your relationship. It gave you a sense of confidence that flattered your ego in the best way possible, since you managed to make your boyfriend to cum with just soft touches. And he was beautiful while doing it.
“I’m shy.”
Jake’s mumbled voice cut through the heavy air that slowly calmed down, and you chuckled lightly with his choice of words, removing yourself from his back to sit on your knees and playfully nudge his sides.
“Lemme see you. I miss your pretty face.”
Jake shook his head and giggled, the warmth of your naturally cozy and reliable relationship taking place deliberately in between Jake’s rigged breath; he could feel how soaked his underwear and shorts were, and the bedsheet would very much be dampened with his arousal as well.
He was slightly bashful about showing you the obvious – after all, you were fully aware that he had just come in his pants. And while he was drowning in embarrassment, you were practically biting your tongue to keep from screaming about how ridiculously turned on you were by it.
But, as always, knowing your boyfriend's nature, you said the one thing guaranteed to make him hard all over again, something that would not only crush his lingering shame but also ignite his confidence to finally meet your gaze.
“You have no idea how desperate I am to ride you right now.”
#jake x reader#jake smut#sim jake x reader#jake sim x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#jake hard thoughts#heegyukeluv works
303 notes
·
View notes
Text
How do I get through to you?
Do I have to use my position as an American Jew to advocate for the life of someone close to me? That’s horrific. I don’t want to do that, but I feel like I have to.
Isn’t it ghoulish that I have to tell you details of unimaginable suffering to get you to be compelled to give Ibrahim what amounts to a cup of coffee for us in the West? Can you imagine the degradation of that? Of your life being worth that little to people, but relying on them to see it as worth anything at all?
Is it photos you want? Will seeing his face make him real to you? Will seeing the rubble make it real to you? These are photos Ibrahim sent me this morning, because I thought they might get people to pay attention.
Do you see the rubble? Do you see the layers of clothing he has, because it’s winter in Gaza? Do you believe him now? Will you help him now?
Ibrahim is cold. He is hungry. He doesn’t sleep well. He’s been sick recently. His loved ones have been injured and killed. He has put the most unimaginable suffering on display, made his grief public, something nobody should ever have to do, just so people will donate anything to him. Please, don’t let him suffer.
Donate. Share. Queue this post. Tell your friends and family. Please help my friend.
239 notes
·
View notes
Text
The program continues to roll. Shouto -fucking IcyHot- is waving to the camera with a surprisingly un-awkward smile. He looks natural, calm, humble and it makes Bakugo curse out loud. He's been media trained since practically birth; it's an unfair fucking advantage-
"Congratulations, 'tsuki."
For once, Bakugo hears you coming. Your heels hit the linoleum, one foot after the other, tapping down the hall like you're begging to be noticed. Maybe you are. The neckline of your dress hangs low enough he can see the puckered skin of your scar, hidden between the valley of your breasts. He hopes you don't notice him staring, but he knows you do. At least now he knows you were telling the truth about something.
"Yeah. Congratu-fucking-lations."
You cock your head like a dog, feigning innocence. In your hands in an unopened bottle of champagne, foil wrapped, just like you in your golden dress.
"Thirteenth is an improvement." Your smile with your teeth. "Next year, we'll go for their throats and hit tenth."
He believes it. Frankly, he's a little worried that you'll actually tear out Fatgum's throat along the way. Bakugo leans back against his desk with a huff.
"Whatever. Rankings don't matter."
"Wait until you see your pay increase." You outstretch your arm with the champagne. "Hold this. Stand at your desk."
He takes the bottle and gets into position. One leg cocked over the other, head tilted, arm up for you to slip under: he watches you set up your little camera stand and waits for you to hit the timer.
But you stay behind the camera.
"Put your arm down. Looks bad."
Bakugo listens. The flash goes off twice, then you hum a noise he isn't sure is pleased or sour.
"You ain't getting in the picture?" he asks. You snap a couple more, all big bright flashes.
"I can if you want me to."
It feels like a trick. You're luring him into some sort of trap, just like you always do. If he was smart, he'd just say silent, let you get your little photographs and then dip-
"Take your heels off," he says, jerking his head over. "Makes me look short."
The unwavering smile changes a bit as you slip your foot out of your shoe. You stick your phone to the wall, just the right height to make Bakugo look taller than he is, just like he likes it. The phone flashes once as you slink over, then again as you tuck yourself under his arm. Each picture leaves you back-lit. Your features blur out of focus, with this silver halo around your silhouette.
Bakugo watches his reflection on the tiny screen as you adjust him. In the phone, you're perfectly visible, tangible as you fix the scene. Tilt his head, pull him down: your own face is hidden behind his, like you're sharing a secret. One hand finds his shirt fron and holds it gently, lovingly. It would look better if he was dressed up too, Bakugo thinks. Then you two would match, instead of you being dressed like some golden prize-
"Why are you fucking dressed up if it isn't for a picture?" The thought hits him.
You're so close he can feel your smile against his cheek as you whisper. "Do you like it?"
"Stop doing that shit." He reaches back and places the bottle in his desk. The camera's light flashes again. "Dodging my fucking questions all the damn time."
Your arm loops over his neck. It'll look long and dynamic in the photo, he knows it.
"I have plans tonight," you whisper.
"With Izuku?"
"No." Flash.
"Another guy?"
"Yes."
He clicks his tongue against his teeth and pulls back. It's just far enough thay he can see your face, drink in your features.
"Does he know the world thinks you're dating me?" Jealousy is irritating and irrational, especially when you're right here, close enough to claim. He could reach down and lick that scar anytime he wanted to, he knows that-
Flash.
Your lips are painted dark, dramatic. They make your smile feel forced. "It's why he wants me back."
When did his hand find your waist? When did yours find his cheek, thumb pulling over his scar? The camera flashes again.
"People always want what they can't have."
That's such bullshit. He wants you more than anything and he could have you at any moment-
Flash. The camera catches he moment he breaks. His lips press against yours, not in the passionate fury he always thought would happen, but a soft, fleeting touch. Your breath contains more pressure than your skin and he almost thinks you're disappearing from under him, running away-
Flash.
Your lips are parted and your tongue is against his, hot, searing, desperate-
Flash.
He thinks your lips have touched every inch of his skin, down his neck, into the collar of his shirt-
Flash.
His hands are bunching your dress up and he's unsurprised to find nothing underneath-
Flash.
Oh, he's not in frame anymore. You're both on the ground, tangled, touching, groping. He's liking that damn scar and you're keening and twisting and cumming-
241 notes
·
View notes
Text
❝ kiss me, m. mount. ❞ ┉
⁎⠀┉⠀summary: being friends with mason mount means being there with takeout and open ears after his breakups. with his latest locker room bet, he has a lot of time to think about why he's so bad at relationships. and the reason might be you.
⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: loved writing this, so so cute <3 day eleven of my no nut november series.
⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends to lovers.
⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: mason mount x reader.
⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.6k.
You sat cross-legged on Mason's couch. The room smelled faintly of your favorite takeout, a mix of jerk chicken and rice and peas that filled your stomachs and warmed the air. Despite the comfort of your shared laughter, you could feel the tension coiled in Mason's demeanor, the result of a tough match and an even tougher breakup.
“So, what happened?” you asked, your voice gentle and curious.
Mason sighed, running a hand through his buzzed hair. “It was like pulling teeth. She didn't get why I had to end it. Kept saying we could work through it.”
“But you've both been miserable for weeks,” you said, your eyebrows furrowing in concern. “I thought she'd be relieved.”
Mason's eyes darted around the room before landing on his phone. “I don't know, she just... didn't take it well.”
You leaned over and plucked the phone from his hand. “Come on, spill it. What did she say?”
Mason's cheeks flushed as he recounted the teary conversation. “She said I'd never find someone who loves me like she does. It was all a bit dramatic, really.”
You rolled your eyes. “Classic breakup line.”
Mason snorted, a half-hearted smile playing on his lips. “I know, right? But it still stings a bit 'cause I know I'm the problem, not her.”
You put down your takeout container, leaning closer to him. “Mase, what do you mean?”
Mason rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I guess I'm not ready to be in a real relationship, you know? Just something I've gotta work on.”
You studied him, your brown eyes searching his. “You're not giving yourself enough credit. You're a catch, Mason. A bit of a knobhead at times,” she teased, “but you've got a heart of gold.”
Mason chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Cheers, love. Breakup came at a good time though, 'cause I've got this bet with the United lads.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow. “What bet?”
Mason's grin grew shy. “No Nut November. You know, the challenge where you don't... you know.”
Your eyes narrowed in disbelief, then you burst into laughter. “You're actually doing that?”
Mason nodded, his cheeks darkening. “Yeah, for a bit of a laugh, you know? See how long we can last without... indulging.”
You couldn't help but smirk. “So, what, you're all just walking around like a bunch of pent-up teenagers?”
“Pretty much,” Mason admitted, his smile turning into a grimace. “It's a good thing, really. Keeps my head in the game.”
You nodded, your amusement clear. “And your hands out of your pants,” you quipped.
Mason playfully slapped your arm. “You're one to talk, Miss ‘I've been single since forever’.”
Zara laughed, shrugging. “At least I'm not making bets about it!”
Mason rolled his eyes. “By the end of the month, I'll be the most zen person you know,” he said, puffing his chest at the thought, a boyish grin pulling at his lips.
“Mm-hmm,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “And what do you get if you win this challenge?”
Mason shrugged. “Bragging rights, I guess. Works for me.”
The rest of November rolled by with you keeping a close eye on Mason's mood swings. His frustration grew palpable as the days ticked away, his jokes about the challenge turned from light-hearted to desperate. Every time you saw him, you made sure to ask about his progress, enjoying the way his face contorted in an attempt to hide his growing irritation.
“How's the zen life treating you?” you teased, your eyes gleaming with amusement.
Mason groaned dramatically. “Don't even start, Zee.”
You couldn't hold back your laughter. “Seriously, though, you've got to be close to breaking point by now?”
Mason's brown eyes narrowed playfully. “Why're you so eager to see me fail? You're supposed to be supportive.”
You leaned back, your hand on your chest. “Me? I'm just an innocent bystander, observing the madness that is No Nut November.”
Mason threw a pillow at you, which you deftly caught. “You're a sadist, you know that?”
“Just keeping it real, Mase,” you said, tossing the pillow back.
The last week of November was the hardest for Mason. You noticed he'd become quieter, his laughter less frequent. It was as if he was deep in thought whenever he was off the pitch. The banter between the two of you took on an edge of tension, his jokes a little less playful, his responses a little more curt. Worried, you sent a text to Declan, who had only told you that Mason had reached an “epiphany” during their most recent chat a few nights back.
On the final day of the month, you were at your flat, expecting a typical evening of binge-watching reality TV shows and scrolling through social media. But when your doorbell rang, you were surprised to find Mason standing there, a bouquet of flowers in hand.
“Mason?” you asked, taking in his slightly nervous expression.
He held out the flowers, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I know it's random, but I had to tell you something, and I figured flowers might help ease the blow if you decide to laugh in my face.”
You took the bouquet, feeling the weight of the moment. You stepped aside, inviting him in with a tilt of your head. “Alright, come in, I guess. What's going on?”
Mason shuffled his feet, his gaze darting around the room before settling on you. “I had a chat with Declan and Lauren, about, you know, relationships and stuff. And they got me thinking about what I really want.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but you played it cool. “Oh?”
Mason nodded, his eyes searching yours. “Yeah, and I realized something. Every time I'm with someone, I can't help but picture you there instead. It's like you're this standard in my head, and no one ever measures up to what I think it would be like to be with you.”
You felt a warmth spread through your chest, your grip tightening on the flowers. You didn't know what to say, your mind racing with a mix of excitement and disbelief. Before you could respond, Mason took a step closer.
“I know it's weird,” he continued, his voice low and earnest. “And I know you probably think I'm out of my mind. But I can't stop thinking about it. I've never felt this way about anyone else, not even close.”
Your throat went dry as you stared at him, the words you wanted to hear for so long finally hanging in the air between you. You parted your lips to respond, but left unable to answer, you simply closed the gap and kissed him instead.
The kiss was gentle, a soft press of your lips that grew more urgent with every passing second. Mason's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as your hand found its way to the back of his neck. The flowers fell to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.
Mason's breath was warm against your skin as you broke apart, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or rejection. But all he saw was the same longing that mirrored his own.
“Was that okay?” he whispered, his voice ragged with emotion.
You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest. “More than okay.” You stepped closer to him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I don't think I realized how much I've been waiting for this either,” you admitted.
Mason's eyes widened, and then he was kissing you again, more urgently this time. You stumbled backward, your bodies colliding with the wall of your hallway, your hands exploring each other with a newfound hunger. The tension of the past few weeks dissolved into pure passion, the air between the two of you crackling with the electricity of a year's worth of unspoken desires.
You didn't speak as you made your way to the bedroom, your kisses speaking volumes. The room was dimly lit by the flickering of the TV, casting shadows across your faces as you shed your clothes. Mason paused, his eyes raking over your body, his gaze lingering on the curves he had only ever seen hidden beneath baggy sweatshirts and jeans, except for the occasional glimpse at the pool or beach.
You felt a shy warmth up your neck, but you held his gaze, your own desire matching his. You fell onto the bed, your kisses becoming more heated as your bodies entwined. Mason's touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he explored you with his hands, his thumbs brushing over your hips and ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
Your breath hitched as Mason's lips found your neck, kissing a path down to your collarbone. His hands were firm but tender as he unclipped your bra, and you felt the coolness of the room against your bare skin. You reached out to trace the tattoos scattered along his arms and the one at the nape of his neck, the one you had been surprised he got in the first place. His muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out a soft groan.
Your kisses grew more urgent as you moved together on the bed, the mattress squeaking gently beneath you. You felt your heart racing, your body responding to every touch, every caress. Mason's fingers danced over your skin, igniting a fire you had long ago convinced yourself you didn't feel. But here it was, burning bright and uncontrollable.
“Sensitive?” you teased, the words spoken softly against Mason's mouth as your fingers traced the ink on his ribs.
Mason chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. “Only for you, love.”
Your laughter melded into a passionate kiss as you rolled over, you now on top of him. You felt powerful and alive, every inch of your skin tingling with the anticipation of what was to come. Mason's hands slid up your back, his fingertips tracing the contours of your body as you moved against him.
You felt a sudden jolt of nerves. This was it, the moment you didn't know you longed for so much. You had always been the quiet, reserved one, content to watch from the sidelines. But here you were, the star of the show, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.
Mason must have noticed, because he gently cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “We can stop if you want to. I just had to tell you how I feel.”
But you were beyond the point of no return. You leaned down, your eyes searching his, and whispered, “Don't you dare stop, Mason. I want this. More than you know.”
Mason's eyes lit up, the nervousness dissipating as he rolled you two over, taking control with a gentle force. His kisses grew more demanding, his hands more insistent, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. The months of friendship had built a bond between you, and now, as you finally gave in to your desires, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Your movements grew more frantic, your breaths mingling as you raced towards something you hadn't dared hope for. You could feel the tension in Mason's body, the same tension that had been building in him all month, and you reveled in the power you had over him.
As you reached your climax, it was as if a dam had broken, releasing a flood of emotions and years of unspoken feelings. The two of you clung to each other, your bodies slick with sweat, your hearts beating in sync.
Afterwards, you lay tangled in the mess of your passion, hands still roaming, hearts still racing. The silence was comfortable, filled with the quiet whispers of your breathing and the occasional giggle when a limb got tangled. You felt a warmth spread through you that was unlike anything you had ever felt before, a sense of belonging that you hadn't realized you had been missing. His chest, firm and warm, made a perfect pillow for your cheek, and you listened to the steady thump of his heart as it slowly returned to normal.
Mason finally broke the silence, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your skin. “So, I guess I failed No Nut November, huh?”
You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with warmth. “Epic fail, Mount. But totally worth it, if you ask me.”
Mason chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “I guess that's one way to look at it. I'm just relieved it's over, to be honest. Made my head all fuzzy sometimes.”
You traced your finger along the line of his jaw, feeling the neatly groomed hair against your fingertip. “Well, you've got thirty days of freedom coming your way. What are you going to do with it?”
Mason's smile was soft, his eyes still on yours. “I'm thinking of spending it with you, if that's alright?”
You giggled softly and nodded, your heart racing. “Yeah, I think I could manage that,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “What was that chat with Declan and Lauren about, though?”
Mason leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. “Remember when I said I needed to sort myself out before I could be in a good relationship? They just pointed out the obvious. That there was something holding me back, something I hadn't faced. Like I was holding on to some... I don't know, hope maybe?”
You felt his words resonate deep within you. You had often wondered if Mason had felt the same way you did but had been too scared to admit it. You took a deep breath, your heart racing. “And what did you tell them?”
Mason's eyes searched yours, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. “That I always hoped that I'd eventually end up with you. That every girl I've been with, it was like I was just filling the time until you and I were ready for more.”
Your breath hitched at his words, your heart swelling in your chest. You had felt the same way but had never had the courage to voice it. The two of you lay there, your hearts beating in time, basking in the reality of your confessions. Years' worth of tension had led you to this moment, a culmination of unspoken feelings and hidden glances.
“You know,” you began, your voice shaky as you suppressed a giggle, “I wondered if we'd ever just give up on dating and just be together. We've both been horrid partners.”
Mason chuckled, his eyes shimmering with affection. “Yeah, but I think we've found our match in each other. Besides, I've had enough drama for a lifetime with the other ones. You're the one who's always been there for me, no matter what.”
You leaned your head on his chest again, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “And I always will be,” you murmured.
Mason's hand found yours, lacing your fingers together. “My mum always said that when you know, you know. And I think I've known for a while now. I just didn't know how to tell you without messing up our friendship.”
You squeezed his hand. “I don't think much will change between us, honestly. We'll just be a bit more... affectionate in public, I guess?”
Mason nodded, his smile growing. “And I get to kiss you wherever I want,” he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “whenever I want,” he kissed your nose, “without worrying if it's too soon or if it'll ruin the friendship.” His lips found yours again.
You sighed contentedly against his mouth. “You're a really good kisser, you know that?”
Mason grinned. “Years of practice.”
You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed your amusement. “Gross, you've been kissing a bunch of other girls to get good at kissing me?”
Mason's expression turned playfully offended. “Hey, I've been preparing for this moment my whole life. I promise it's all been worth it, though. You're officially the best kiss I've ever had.”
You giggled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I'll take it I guess.”
#&. cassie writes.#mason mount#mason mount x reader#mason mount imagine#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fluff#mason mount smut#man united#footballer imagine#football imagine#football#manchester united#footballer x reader#footballer fanfic#black fem reader#x black reader#black!reader#black reader#x black fem reader
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
keep going… ! 𐙚₊˚⊹
g!p billie !
“angel..i’m tired,” billie groans, her head falling back into the soft pillows of your shared bed.
“but i need you!” you whine, a pout forming on your pretty lips.
always so whining billie thought to herself.
billie was tired, plus she already made you cum an hour or so before.
“i’ve already made you cum, four times,” she says letting out a little amused smirk.
billie was quite a few years older than you, even though she goes to the gym regularly, you are a complete ball of energy always on the go.
“i need you,” you repeat again, the ache in your cunt only getting worse, billie looks so perfect right now.
her long dark brown her framing her face perfectly, the noticeable buldge in her boxers, her wife beater tank top that shows her muscles deliciously.
you need her. and you need her now.
“need your cock, please billie,” you all but whine, so incredibly needy for your hot girlfriend.
billie smirked at that, her eyes heavy but finding it amusing all the least.
“mama…” she trails off, unable to say no to you especially when your looking like that.
big doe eyes looking up at her, an innocent gaze yet what your asking for is far from it. plump pink lips pouting at her, she just couldn’t resist.
“alright baby, but i’m not helping,” she pulls her boxers down letting her rock hard cock springing up at hit her stomach.
she was at least 9 inches, thick with prominent veins on the side.
you eagerly smiled, already naked from your previous activities, now straddling her lap and lining your entrance up with the tip of her cock.
billie looks down at you, lining yourself up on her cock, she smiles sleepily through hooded eyes.
you let out a loud whimper as you continue lowering yourself down on her cock, breathing heavy already.
your eyes fall shut as you take her all, she’s stretching you at greatly.
“oh! billie..” you moan softly, you’ve never been a big moaner, always letting out little whimpers and whines.
billie let out a soft moan too, feeling your warm falls hugging her cock tightly her hands instantly going to your waist to support you.
“thaaats it, such a needy little girl hm?” her fingers dug into your hips, rocking you back and forth on her.
“fuck.. yes! ohmygod,” you agreed, incoherent mumbles and whimpers leaving your mouth as you chase your orgasm.
your vision going blurry and your head becoming fuzzy as your orgasm approaches.
“billie ‘m gonna cum,” you cry out, one of her hands leave your waist for a moment, reaching down and rubbing your clit.
your whole body jolts, riding her impossibly fast chasing your orgasm.
“cum for me doll, be a good girl, there you go,” and you did, releasing all over her lap moaning wildly.
“billie,” you whine, slowly down drastically.
“oh my sensitive girl, it’s okay you’re okay baby,” she gently and carefully lifts you off her cock, tucking it back in her boxers.
“‘m tired,” you whine yet again, always so whining after you cum.
“i know sweetheart, i know,” she kisses your forehead, shuffling so she’s laying down pulling you onto her chest.
“cmon mama, close your eyes,” so you do, nearly instantly falling asleep.
billie smiles to herself, happy your comfortable all orgasmed out.
she plays with your hair, whispering a goodnight and i love you, before joining you in your slumber.
i can’t tell if i like this or not
#꒱ೃ ✦ ꒰ evelyn writes! ꒱ೃ ✦#billie eilish#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you#billie eilish smut#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish imagine#billie eilish fanfic
199 notes
·
View notes
Text
stuck halfway;
mr. gap x f!reader x mr. silvair
plot: while on the run from mr. scarletella, mr. gap helps you hide, but then you find yourself in quite the pickle with extra company to boot — themes: one shot, smut, p i v, oral, accidental f!reader, mmf/threesomes, dub con — w.c: 1.8k — a/n: mr. gap fans assemble, we’ve all had this thought haven’t we? dubcon warning as a precautionary measure but it is otherwise implied consensual, just the situation is a lil bit sus
masterlist • ao3
While on the run from a machete-wielding madman, you made a few turns down a long and winding corridor that spanned through the apartments in a maze-like labyrinth, and just up ahead, that tell-tale crimson glow threatened to meet you halfway through.
Your eyes locked onto the walls, desperately searching for an out, and just as luck would have it, you saw a big enough opening to easily fit your form. Mr. Gap predictably was already lurking in such murky depths ready to mess with you, only to be pushed off to the side, involuntarily sharing the darkness at your side instead.
Mr. Scarletella successfully strolled by, pausing in his tracks halfway through, only to continue moving forward once he determined that you were nowhere in sight. This left Mr. Gap to help you (begrudgingly) travel through the walls, maneuvering you around all sorts of nooks and crannies until finally, you ended up somewhere else entirely. While your relationship with the strange wall-dweller was rocky from the beginning, he had unintentionally become a lingering ghostly guardian of sorts, watching, observing, and ready to intervene whenever something sinister threatened to hurt you.
Yet, try as you did to leave the void, you barely managed to get halfway through, leaving one half of you still stuck in the walls, with the other half of you dangling on the other end. Your legs thrashed in frustration on Mr. Gap’s side as your palms on the other half pushed hard against the wall in an attempt to tear yourself out—yet the attempts seemed to be futile at best—leaving you properly stuck.
Mr. Gap tried his best to get you out of his territory with what felt like annoyed pushes against your form, his hands pressing hard against your thighs and digging into the soft skin that would do anything but budge. Beyond the barrier of the walls, you could just barely make out, “are you ####?” to which you could only assume was him asking if you were stuck.
With a reluctant call, you confirmed his suspicions with a “yes”, hoping that he would continue to try and force you out, but no matter how much he kneaded and pushed, he couldn’t quite get you to move forward even a single inch. Mr. Gap frustratedly then seemingly gave up, but then you started to feel as his annoyance turned into curiosity, his hands beginning to feel around your skin just below your dress, pushing it up and finding your—your—!
Feeling immediately flustered, you kicked your leg towards him in protest which succeeded for maybe a minute before you started to feel as he moved around you, locking you into such a position that meant you could no longer squirm around as much, returning his hands right back to where they were before.
You narrowed your eyes as you felt his fingertips delicately and almost gingerly, creep over towards your sex, touching up the sensitive skin that made up your lower body. Seeming curious about your reactions, his fingers traced lazy strokes around the area, perhaps finding it intriguing that your legs spasmed and twitched involuntarily.
You remained frozen all the while, furiously blushing on the other side as you soon succumbed to a flustered mess, and just as your luck would have it, your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps closing in.
“Please, please, please don’t let it be Mr. Scarletella,” you thought to yourself on a repeated mantra, whispering out the sentence like a desperate prayer.
Not noticing the red glow, you warily flicked your eyes up, only to be met with the tilt of Mr. Silvair’s curious head tilt. He branched out one hand, tweezing your chin with two fingers, lifting it up to study your overwhelmed state. The pads of his fingers ran across the rouge of your cheeks, as though studying you.
Seeming to form something in mind, he took the opportunity to prop your mouth open so that you met his gaze and then, with his other hand, he closed his fist, leaving two pointed fingers open before slipping the pair in between your lips, pushing them as far in as possible as if to determine just far he could reach before you would react.
All the while, Mr. Gap worked on exploring your other stuck half, building up a radiating wave of unexpected pleasure that coarse throughout your body. Mr. Silvair used your partially occupied state to idly coax you into complying with him, withdrawing his fingers from the space, prompting you to close your mouth in the process, yet not quite being allowed to do so.
He tapped your lips with his index finger, saying a mysterious word while gesturing at his own mouth, before opening it and revealing another new word. He repeated such a demonstration twice, communicating with you to keep your mouth open, not closed, appearing to be pleased when you complied.
Mr. Gap seemed to pause as you reached something that felt like it was close to your peak, but not quite, communicating through the muffled barriers of the separating walls to Mr. Silvair. Their conversation however was largely lost on your ears, as only certain snippets could be made out. It seemed like they were both agreeing on something…?
Pulling back a little, Mr. Silvair looked down at you again with his lips curled into a sly smile. He tilted your chin up to the angle it was in before, snapping his fingers right above you to keep your attention before fumbling with his tattered clothes, revealing his half-erect cock. With a wary eye, you observed as he took himself into his hand, rubbing the tip against the cusp of your lips, watching and feeling as it grew to its full size from the contact.
He then slipped his throbbing length into your still-open mouth, pushing just far enough for you to feel his shaft rest idly on your tongue, tilting his head off to the other side in curiosity before withdrawing. It seemed that he liked the sensation, but his greater curiosity was your reaction over his own.
Communicating something beyond your comprehension once more, Mr. Silvair barked out some sort of instruction to Mr. Gap, with the request not remaining a mystery for too long as you quickly found yourself full of a different kind of sensation. It was sudden, but somehow not too unexpected as you felt Mr. Gap gain entry into your sex from behind, pushing forth with slick ease into your sopping heat.
Unlike Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap didn’t wait around to surrender to the new sensation, feverishly bucking right away and holding onto wherever—whatever he could—his fingernails digging crescents into your skin in frenzied want. He rutted at a crazed pace, his movements delivering as almost sloppy and erratic, lacking complete control as if consumed by lust. Such hurried thrusting into your core left you feeling further overwhelmed, milking out rolling moans and whimpers from the slip of your lips, catching Mr. Silvair’s attention once more.
Once again, he slipped his cock back into your mouth, this time pushing in as far as you could physically take him, feeling as the tip of his length kissed the back of your throat, flooding you with such a sudden fullness that you could barely contain your gagged reaction, resorting to tapping onto his legs in a silent plea for him to let you breathe.
Allowing you to do so, Mr. Silvair clawed a hefty lock of your hair as you recollected your senses, grappling your head into a slightly suspended angle before guiding himself back in. The combination of slightly applied pain in combination with the stifled moans and cries appeared to tickle something within him, evident by how he seemed to enjoy using your mouth to milk out all sorts of interesting reactions. Once locked into it, however, he settled on something closer to a steadier pace, guiding your head at a smoother rate.
But then his eyes fluttered as the pleasure rose and his movements succumbed to something sloppier than he would have liked, taking on and off moments to better readjust himself. In an attempt to retain a semblance of some control, he couldn’t quite do so, letting out a frustrated sigh instead. Mr. Silvair then squeezed his hand tighter against your scalp, tugging the ends of your hair in a way that bordered almost unpleasant while keeping your chin locked under his other hand. Quickly, rapidly, he fucked himself into your throat at a less-than-composed momentum, surrendering shamelessly to his erratic desperation, his control slipping away with each bucking spur.
On the other side, Mr. Gap was long lost to the bliss that he found himself buried within, determined to drive out his release as well as your own. He slammed himself relentlessly against your form, impaling you with his girth. His end was near and you could feel it, clamping your hands right around Mr. Silvair’s legs, gasping as you choked back a cry, feeling his cock twitch and empty itself into your soaked cunt—feeling as Mr. Gap, despite straining himself post-climax—still tried to push through to ride out the orgasm, falling limp only out of exhaustion.
Although, as if still enticed, Mr. Gap returned his fingers to where they were before, enjoying the odd little reactions that your legs would signal, allowing you to unbeknownst to him, catch up too. Perhaps it was the situation that you found yourself in that left you so overwhelmed and hot, to begin with, but you couldn’t help like this was the best that you have ever felt. Warm, radiating, and tingling sensations flooded within you, rendering you completely and utterly spent, but also relaxed.
Mr. Silvair soon caught up too, shooting thick white ropes of his load into your throat before slowly pulling out, leaving webbing saliva and cum alike to coat your chin upon his retreat. He looked down at you almost clinically, seeming to form even more thoughts in his mind before tucking himself back into clothed concealment.
Much to the curiosity of all three of you; such a state of deep relaxation seemed to allow you to at least slip out of the hole in the wall, allowing you to land rather clumsily on your hands and knees. Mr. Gap peered through, his face appearing to be extra red and disheveled, for the time being, too out of it from over-exerting himself to properly protest against your sudden absence.
Mr. Silvair however seemed to have something else in mind, studying you with that same tell-tale head tilt that now left you both wary and even… aroused? Picking you up and steadying you at your feet, you tried to latch onto him for comfort which he did not pick up on, instead gesturing for you to follow him along to somewhere else entirely, leaving you wondering what on earth he could be planning next.
#mr. gap x reader#mr. silvair x reader#homicipher#homicipher smut#mr. gap#mr. silvair#tw dubcon#mr gap#mr gap x reader#mr gap x you#mr silvair#mr silvair x reader#mr silvair x you#homicipher x reader#homicipher x mc#homicipher x you#x reader smut#x you smut#homicipher headcanons#homicipher imagines#homicipher mr silvair#homicipher mr gap#smut#smut fanfiction#xposted to ao3#x reader#homicipher mc#smut x reader#dubcon#cross posted on ao3
291 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gojo can't stop thinking about fucking Geto's girl
MDNI- Explicit Yandere Gojo jerks off thinking about you, Geto's girlfriend, yandere Suguru decides he'll share you once.
Warnings: -yandere Geto and Gojo, oral sex -f receiving, p in v sex, anal sex( f recieving) threesome, double penetration, breed kink, cumming, dollification, dumbification, lowkey misogyny, highkey yandere lol
Part One ♡ Part Two ♡ Part Three ♡ Part Four ♡ Part Five
Part Six
"Just getting started with you." Suguru's voice is a gruff whisper in your ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, as they sink into your holes.
The feeling of being fucked by their huge cocks, as you're held by their strong arms is insanity, you can't even describe the pleasure and pain, Suguru stretching your little ass as Satoru's sinking so deep in your pussy. Satoru's rhythm is relentless, hands digging into your hips, blue eyes devouring you, while Suguru starts to thrust into your ass further, their movements constantly in sync, both stealing kisses from you, leaving you breathless.
Your eyes roll back into your head as the room starts to spin you're so drunk off them, their cocks hitting all the right spots, Suguru takes it easy and shallow, while Satoru's cock is stuffed in your pussy so deep, you're so full it seems unreal. You're gasping out, broken moans and cries mixing with their guttural groans and heavy breaths. "Ngh! I... it's too much I..."
"You can take it, Princess. You're so good for us." Suguru whispers, and you nod then, captured by the violet gaze, dilated and hungry as he sinks deeper, stretching you so much. Your moans muffled by Satoru's mouth, his tongue delving into your mouth, messy and hungry.
Satoru's hands are everywhere, feeling your body inch by inch, gripping your tits and squishing them, pinching your sensitive nipples between them, as Suguru is slipping his hand down your tummy, his thumb brushing over your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body, you're soaking his hand now, tightening around both of their cocks, Satoru pulls away, exhaling as he stares into your eyes.
"You're being the perfect toy for us, baby." Satoru huffs, urging you on, your head falls back against Suguru's chest, his grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming more forceful, pushing you further onto Satoru's cock.
"So good, Princess. So tight, f-fuck." Suguru's groaning, turning your chin to kiss him, his tongue ring clicking against your teeth, you tremble as they move you like their doll, like their toy, you feel like you're falling apart between them.
The sounds of skin slapping against skin and the wet sounds of their cocks sliding in and out of your body fill the room, your juices flowing all over Satoru's cock, as Suguru's precum drips in your other hole, and they keep kissing you back and forth, pushing and pulling until you're nothing, you are just something for them to use.
"Fucked her dumb, Sugu, look at her." Satoru whispers, Suguru laughs softly, broken in the middle, hands on your ass, lifting you and sinking in impossibly deeper.
"Ah-ah! Mmm!"
"She can't even speak, so cute." Satoru's smirking, and you can't manage a glare, not when he's bending low and they both sink their cocks in fully, you're cumming so hard you can't think, shattering as they exhale, gripping you.
"You feel so good, Princess, you're made for this aren't you?" Suguru murmurs, you shake your head, and they laugh again.
"Stalkers." You grumble.
"Oooh, she can still talk? Think we should fix it."
They shove in hard now, and you're cumming all over Satoru's cock, your ass milking Suguru's so good his nails press into your skin. You try to keep some semblance of control, but it's a lost cause, your body is theirs to do with as they please, and you can't help but love the feeling of being so utterly consumed by the both of them. Satoru's teeth sink into one side of your neck now, sharp and rough, as Suguru bites the other side, just a little gentler. You're completely blinded by them, by Satoru's soft white hair against your cheek, and Suguru's long silken locks across your shoulders.
You wrap your arms around Satoru's neck, your nails digging into his skin right back, screaming out hoarsely as you try to keep some balance.. "Please..."
"Tapping out, Princess?"
"That won't do." They both chuckle darkly, their eyes meeting over your head. "Lemme fill her with cum, Sugu."
"Ask her what she wants. Do you want us to fill your holes?"
"Breed you?" Satoru murmurs, shoving deep again, tip bruising your cervix, you struggle to try to come to, lashes fluttering.
"Breed me?" You ask softly, Suguru sighs.
"Wouldn't know whose baby it was."
"Could be both of ours."
"F-fuck you both." They laugh again, and you're stretched beyond your limits, weakly grasping at them to try to keep tethered. "But... cum in me, please. Fill me." Your eyes hit Satoru's, seeing his hunger, then you look back at Suguru, they're both covered in slick sweat as are you, naked bodies smoothly running against each other as they press you even closer.
"Gonna fill your perfect pussy up so good." Satoru murmurs now, and you feel him thickening, he kisses you, but Suguru grasps your chin, turning you to him. "Lemme kiss her."
"She's still my girlfriend." Suguru devours your mouth, you feel him pulsing in your ass now, the sensation so new, you scream out at it, spurring you to tighten around Satoru's cock, and he's groaning at it, snatching your face back up. "F-fuck... clenching around me s'good..."
"F-fuck... baby... gonna fill you up so full." Satoru's whimpering, stuttering, as he feels your tight cunt gripping him like a vise, and he's pumping you full of so much cum. They're both moaning and gripping you, filling you so full with white hot ropes of their cum, you're a sticky, drippy mess as you cum all over them.
Your cum is leaking down Satoru's veiny cock, Suguru's thickness is coated in his own cum as they're stuffing it deeper in you. They don't stop like you think they would, they're pushing their cum in and out of your holes, you're dripping it down it white sticky messes, hips bucking, so sore as they use you. Now they finally ease out of you, holding your trembling body as they easy you down, kissing every inch of you with both their mouths.
"Broke all your rules, Sugu. Except hand holding." Satoru says with a white flash of a grin, and Suguru rolls his eyes, hands slipping down your back in soothing circles.
"Are you all right, Princess?" He asks softly, you manage a weak nod, earning a kiss on the head from both of them.
"That was... well... fuck." They laugh now, and soon you find yourself in the shower, as they both clean every bit of you thoroughly. Soon Satoru's back on his knees, tongue lapping every last bit of his cum that's inside you, and Suguru's joining him, two sets of pretty eyes looking up as you weakly lean against the shower wall.
"Tell him I'm your boyfriend too." Satoru murmurs, and you shake your head with a little laugh, stroking their cheeks as they take turns licking your aching pussy.
"Can I have two boyfriends?" You ask Suguru, he scowls at Satoru, earning a scowl back.
"I'll be her main boyfriend."
"No, me!"
"Wanna bet?"
"Oh god..." They're fighting over your pussy, these questionable stalkers, but you can't worry too much when their fingers are back inside of you, and the hot spray of the shower pounds on your sensitive skin. You're too fucked out to care.
Satoru smirks later as he holds you in his arms, you're snuggled up to Suguru's chest, but he's holding your perfect form, from behind as you sleep, caressing your skin delicately, thinking of how he can't wait to get you pregnant first. Surely, he will win.
The endddd
This was just silly ass yandere shit, enjoy your hot psycho stalker boyfriends lol!! Disclaimer- Yandere behavior isn't cool IRL, just in fiction with Gojo and Geto <3
Tag lists seem to not work so I'm tagging in the comments!
#satosugu x you#satosugu x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#gojo x reader#jjk smut#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#geto x reader#gojo x geto x reader#yandere gojo satoru#yandere gojo#yandere jjk
312 notes
·
View notes
Text
Multiple verifications but dangerously underfunded!
613 / 10,000 EUR
6% Funded
Please! Every family is barely scraping by in Gaza because of the famine and high food prices!
Shares will help this get more attention. So please do that!
Then if you've got some cash to spare consider donating. Every little bit helps and GFM has protection so donations can be refunded!
Thank You
Tag list to help this campaign get more traction. Do Not feel pressured to donate of you can't afford it. All I ask is for a share when you've got a moment.
Tag List 5 - DM for removal
@skunkes @sayruq @the-telltale-heart @emiliemgg @dlxxv-vetted-donations @opposite-of-aster
@littlestpersimmon @lovetododeku @libertineangel @imjustheretotrytohelp @straycatj
@commissions4aid-international @redbuddi @reginaofdoctorwho @tamamita @ot3 @o-lanterns
@imlizy-blog-blog @bixel @butchfeygele @kindere @halalchampagnesocialist
@heydreamchild @halimaidmf @wizardarchives @buttercuparry @virovac
@variantsofblue @2spirit-0spoons @turtletoria @wellwaterhysteria @paper-mario-wiki
@prisonhannibal @razzberrydazz @officialspec2 @c-rberus @frigidwife @mak-to-the-future
@belogna @beteldyke @helioxed @cannibaldaughter @leafys-reblogs @cetitan
@wilwheaton @d-druxy @femmesbians @specialmouse @dadpilled
Urgent Relief ... 🙏🇵🇸
"Save what's left of our souls . . . 👨👩👦
My name is Diana, a Palestinian from Gaza.
A mother of two beautiful children, Riad (6) and Ahmed (4). We live together with my mother, my brother and his wife.
Verified by ✅✅
@90-ghost ✅ here.
To donate, click here 🙏
It is difficult for me to ask for a little financial help from you But I will not let my innocent children go without a fight until my last breath
I was about to achieve my dream of becoming a teacher but the war destroyed all my dreams. Most schools in Gaza have been destroyed.💔💔
Unfortunately, our house was bombed and destroyed during the recent events,
which caused us severe psychological and physical damage due to the catastrophic situation we are currently living in. We were forcibly displaced due to the heavy bombing from the north of Gaza to the south, where we have no shelter except a tent that does not protect us from the cold of winter or the heat of summer.
We are now living in catastrophic conditions, in particular my child Riad who was born with a hole in his heart and also pulmonary valve stenosis. At the age of 6 months, he underwent open heart surgery.
Unfortunately, during his regular checkups after surgery, exactly 2 years ago, we noticed that problems had started to appear again.💔
My child riad often falls ill due to his weak immune system and the severe shortage of food, supplies and medical supplies that we suffer from, in addition to the high prices that make it difficult to meet our basic needs.
We don’t even have access to clean drinking water. The loss of our home has exacerbated our suffering, and our daily lives have become a constant struggle for survival.
My family and I thank you all from the bottom of our hearts! ❤️❤️
I understand that we all go through tough times, so anything helps. Whether it's your love and support, donating, sharing my story, or sending love, prayers, positive vibes, and healing. Everything is appreciated and accepted..🙏
"Save what's left of our souls . . . 👨👩👦
To donate, click here 🙏
With all appreciation and thanks,
Diana❤️
My campaign has been verified by :
@90-ghost ✅ here.
@gazavetters my number verified on the list is ( #233 )✅️ here.
@bilal-salah0 ✅ here.
@a-shade-of-blue ✅here.
@khanger ✅here.
#c u c koo donation posts#gaza relief#gaza#palestine gofundme#gaza fundraiser#save 🍉#palestine 🍉#palestine fundraiser#vetted#verified
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
No 23 prompt please with jana and reader both playing from u19 together to Barcelona and Falling in love for first time . R is a huge dork . Thanks.
You're such a dork
Jana x reader
~~~
You were sitting at your desk studying when you heard a slight knock on your office door and you turned your head to see your girlfriend stepping through the doorway with a plate of snacks in her hand. Jana gently set the plate down next to your computer before wrapping her arms around you from behind.
"Hola amor, what are you working on?" Jana asked as you turned your head to give her a kiss.
You smiled as Jana wrapped her arms around you, her warmth soothing the stress that had been building throughout your study session. The way she always seemed to show up at just the right moment made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.
“Hola, mi amor,” you replied softly, turning your head to press another quick kiss to her lips. “I’m just studying for this big history test. I feel like I’m drowning in flash cards.”
Jana chuckled, her fingers gently combing through your hair. “You always say that, but I know you’ll ace it. You’re the biggest dork I know, and I mean that in the best way possible.”
You let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth of her words. “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure I’m just making this harder than it has to be. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I’m glad you came by.”
“Of course, I couldn’t leave you alone to study forever,” Jana said, her voice teasing. “And besides, you deserve a little break.”
She picked up the plate of snacks and held it up in front of you, her eyes twinkling with a playful spark. “I brought you some fuel. You can’t keep working without food. That’s rule number one, right?”
You laughed and took a few of the snacks from the plate, grateful for the small gesture of care. “Thanks, babe. You always know how to make things better.”
Jana leaned down, resting her chin on your shoulder as she watched you nibble on the food. “Well, you’ve been working really hard lately. I wanted to make sure you take care of yourself. But also, I think it’s cute when you’re all stressed out, trying to figure things out like a dork.”
You rolled your eyes, though you were secretly thrilled by the way she teased you. “I’m serious! You don’t get it. I’m juggling so much right now, and I just want everything to go well.”
Jana pulled back slightly, her face turning soft with understanding. “I get it. But hey, you don’t need to do everything by yourself, okay? I’m here for you.”
Your heart swelled at the sincerity in her voice. She was calm, steady, and always made you feel like you weren’t alone in anything.
“I know. I guess I just sometimes feel like I need to be perfect,” you admitted, feeling vulnerable for a moment.
Jana smiled, her fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “Amor, you don’t need to be perfect. I fell in love with the biggest dork I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t change a thing. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
A smile tugged at your lips as you turned to face her, your heart beating a little faster. “I love you, Jana. You know that?”
She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I know. I love you too, dork.”
The two of you sat together for a while, sharing the plate of snacks and talking about everything and nothing, the way only you two could. It felt like time slowed down whenever you were with her, the world outside disappearing in a blur. In that moment, there was no test, no pressure, just the two of you.
It hadn’t always been like this, of course. You and Jana had known each other for years, since your U19 days at Barcelona. Back then, you were just two teammates on the same field, awkwardly laughing about misplaced passes or a bad goal attempt. You had bonded over your shared love of the game, your goofy personalities, and the way you both always managed to mess up in the most charming ways.
There had been a time when you hadn’t even realized what was growing between you and Jana. At first, it was just easy friendship and a mutual respect for each other’s skills and personalities. But somewhere along the way, that friendship had evolved into something deeper, something more.
The first time you’d caught yourself thinking about Jana outside of the context of football was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. You had been sitting in the locker room after a particularly grueling training session, distracted by the way Jana’s laugh sounded when she talked about the ridiculous prank she and Bruna had pulled on Pina. You had tried to focus on the game analysis in front of you, but all you could hear was Jana’s voice, light and carefree. Mapi had to elbow you before you realized she had asked you a question.
It hadn’t taken long after that for you to realize what was happening. You were falling for one of your best friends.
And that’s when the nervousness set in. You weren’t the kind of person who made the first move. You were awkward, fumbling over your words, and way too much of a dork to figure out the complicated world of relationships. But Jana had picked up on it, and in a way that only she could, she made the first step.
That night, after an intense match, she had pulled you aside in the locker room, her eyes soft but intense. “Y/N,” she had said, her voice low, “I think I like you.”
Your heart had nearly stopped at those words. You had stammered out something about being confused, but she had simply kissed you, gently, without hesitation. It was everything you’d imagined and more, and suddenly, the awkwardness of it all melted away.
After that, things had shifted. You weren’t just teammates anymore, you were partners, both on and off the field. There was a comfort in being with Jana that you couldn’t explain. She made you feel seen, loved, and appreciated for every quirky, dorky thing you did.
And now, sitting in your room, studying for a test that you didn’t feel prepared for, Jana was right there beside you, proving once again that you didn’t have to be perfect.
“Promise me you’ll take a break after this?” Jana asked, her voice soft but serious.
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “I promise.”
Jana kissed you on the forehead, the sweet gesture making your heart swell with affection. “Good, my favorite dork."
You let out a laugh, resting your head on her shoulder. “And you’re my favorite person.”
#woso#woso x reader#fcb femení#fcb femení x reader#woso imagine#fc barcelona femeni#jana fernandez x reader#jana fernandez#woso imagines#woso fanfics
172 notes
·
View notes