#but clearly they're too hot for the game
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
BABY DRIVERS
PART 2 ♥ Enzo belongs to me Jayjay belongs to @chevvy-yates Time to strip the boys \o/ after a year, i finally start to sexy pics of them and .... it's hard to look at them respectfully, that's all (a)
#cyberpunk 2077#male v monday#shippy everyday#otp: baby drivers#oc : enzo sarto#jaysen steyr#jay belongs to chevvy#street racer#racer oc#oc x oc#oc x oc ship#cyberpunk oc#cyberpunk photomode#cp 2077#cp2077edit#videogamemen#virtual photography#glory pics#afghksdfk they're HOT#[insert here lick emoji]#I won't draw you a picture of what happened (a)#but clearly they're too hot for the game#wanna touch so bad enzo's abs (heavy breathing)#Lucky Jay#and lucky Enzo bc Jay is hot af#and even more with wardrobe we did with Chevvy
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
I love when people in the DSAF fandom try to discuss morality like oh yeah how about you acknowledge the things Jack said about Steven in 1 huh. Yeah those things. Or how about we talk about one of the few reasons Peter kills you HUH. Suddenly Henry isn't so bad now is he?
#luly talks#hands on hips shaking finger Henry might have abused an orphan who adored him to the point of blind devotion but he sure didn't say anything#that'd get him in hot waters in our current day and age! and our previous too let's be honest#it's so funny tho like I KNOW THESE ARE THROWAWAY GAGS AND NOT MEANT TO BE TREATED SERIOUSLY BUT THEY CLEARLY ARE IN THE GAME SO THEY'RE#CANON like the Kennedy's just have such problematic views on the world 😭#dee was lucky to die at age 6 everyone thank Henry for not letting these maniacs raise her /JOKE
0 notes
Note
how would seventeen makeout with their s/o ????
seungcheol has this way of kissing you that makes you feel completely devoured, he has the game. his hands are always on you, whether they're cupping your neck, squeezing your thighs, or pulling you closer by the waist. he loves to pull your hair, just enough to make you gasp into his mouth, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips when he hears the sound.
jeonghan is the king of teasing. he'll lean in for a kiss, only to pull back just before your lips touch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. it’s infuriating and intoxicating all at once, and he knows it. when you finally manage to catch his lips, he melts into you, only to pull away again with a smirk. “you’re so impatient,” he laughs, clearly enjoying the way you chase after him. it’s a game for him, and he loves seeing you lose your cool, pressing him against the nearest surface to get what you want.
joshua is all about the details. he’s so attentive, so focused on every little thing. his kisses are slow and deliberate, his tongue tracing the curve of your lips before slipping inside. he listens to your unsteady breath, the way you moan softly when his teeth graze your bottom lip. it’s not just a kiss with him; it's an experience. every touch, every movement feels meaningful, like he’s trying to communicate everything he feels without words.
junhui kisses you like you’re something delicate and precious. his hands barely touch you, feather-light caresses that make you shiver. he loves to tease, to see you squirm under his touch. it’s almost infuriating how gentle he is, knowing exactly how to leave you wanting more. his lips are soft and warm, and there's a gentleness in the way he moves, like he’s savoring every moment.
soonyoung loves to feel your body against his. whether you're standing up or straddling his lap, he pulls you close, pressing your chest against his. he loves the way your boobs feel against him, and he makes sure you know it, grinding his hips up to let you feel just how hard he is.
wonwoo kisses you like he never wants to stop. he’s relentless, only pulling away when you need a breath, and even then, he's right back at it, his tongue sliding against yours. there's a raw passion to the way he kisses, like he’s pouring everything he feels into it. it’s overwhelming in the best way possible, making your head spin and your heart race.
jihoon is surprisingly sensual. his kisses are slow and deep, his tongue exploring your mouth with a languid pace that leaves you breathless. his hands are always on your ass or boobs, squeezing and kneading, grounding himself in the sensation of your body. he knows exactly how to touch you, how to make you melt under his hands.
minghao is quick to get his hands involved. within minutes of making out, his fingers are already inside your pants, teasing your clit or slipping inside you. he loves the way you can’t keep kissing him, too busy moaning and gasping as his fingers work their magic. he loves the power he has over you, the way he can make you lose control with just a few well-placed touches.
mingyu likes to explore every inch of you. he loves to pull your hair back, exposing your neck to his lips. he kisses every part of you, from your lips to your jawline to the sensitive spot just below your ear. when he discovered how sensitive your neck is, it became his favorite place to kiss. “you’re so sensitive here,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.
seokmin has sneaky hands. he loves it when you squeeze his cock through his pants or grab his ass—don't you dare to tell anyone ab this—, he’ll let out a soft moan, his hands slipping under your shirt or down your pants. he loves surprising you with a quick squeeze or a playful slap, always keeping you on your toes.
seungkwan loves the little moans, gasps, and whimpers that escape your lips. whether they’re coming from you or him, he finds them intoxicating. “you sound so pretty,” he whispers, his kisses are passionate and a little messy, his hands tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer.
vernon loves to have you on his lap. he knows you’ll start grinding on him, desperate for more. he loves the way you whine, the way you cling to him. “you’re so needy,” he murmurs, a teasing smile on his lips. his kisses are slow and lazy, but there's a heat behind them that leaves you head over heels for him.
chan is a tease. he loves to give you those horny, nasty smirks between kisses, or frown when things get too heated. he loves pushing you to the edge, only to pull back and make you beg for more. his kisses are playful and teasing, full of a youthful energy that makes your head spin.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt smut#seventeen#svt imagines#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x oc#seventeen x you#seventeen x y/n#seungcheol smut#jeonghan smut#joshua hong smut#junhui smut#hoshi smut#soonyoung smut#scoups smut#wonwoo smut#minghao smut#the8 smut#mingyu smut#seokmin smut#dk smut#seungkwan smut#vernon smut#hansol smut#dino smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated.
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong.
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?"
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks.
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach.
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong."
"I'm just trying to figure something out."
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance.
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein.
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?"
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop.
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something.
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention."
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights.
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done?
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time.
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again.
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears.
This is all so messy, and it's your fault.
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me.
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid.
—
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help.
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?"
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go."
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention.
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up.
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell.
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you.
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it."
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry."
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel.
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug.
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon.
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two.
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset "
"I'm an idiot–"
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–"
"I shouldn't have–"
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away.
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up."
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into?
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me."
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says.
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile.
"It's not okay."
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even."
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked."
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?"
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back."
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better."
"I know." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you."
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful.
"Does it look really bad?"
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says.
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already."
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to."
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid."
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask.
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not."
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure."
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want."
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks.
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it.
"That feels nice," you mumble.
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?"
"Don't," you warn.
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?"
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it.
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry."
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
and at the end of the day, people will still hate women.
because beyonce is a terrible songwriter who has a good body and nothing more and she's really nothing compared to olivia rodrigo, that stuck-up bitch who steals other people's music, but taylor swift is an old, bitter nothing who clearly hates other girls. and sabrina carpenter deserves to die because she followed her heart, not her brain, and that's exactly why zendaya will never be good enough for tom holland. don't forget about kylie jenner, who's stealing precious timothee's innocence away and dating her is like committing arthouse cinema suicide, or how we said the same thing about miley cyrus and her disgusting profanity, think of the children, poor liam hemsworth, trapped in a marriage with such a horrible woman. lana del rey was hot until she was big and she made trailerpark sexy until her ass got a little too fat. and ariana grande, talentless homewrecker, and selena gomez, jealous and unreasonable, and hailey bieber, even more boring than the blood drying on the knives you are so quick to pull. sophie turner is a bad mom and megan thee stallion deserved whatever was coming to her.
and amidst all of this, we still don't know these women. we cannot fathom the pain of having a public divorce, one where people choose sides and hurl insults at you until the battery on their phone dies. we don't watch them chase after sweet-cheeked children in tucked-away backyards or play board games with their best friends while their chests heave in laughter. we don't know their marriages and we don't know their solitudes. we don't watch them unravel themselves, time and time again, preparing for the battle that we have made of their lives. they can never make a mistake. they can never cry. they can never be who they believe themselves to be.
and we take all of this and we go to work, we ride the bus, we go grocery shopping, we walk in dappled sunlight, and we let ourselves shrivel. i compare myself to every body i see and i comfort in the fact that i can still encircle my wrists with my fingers. food turns to dust in my mouth when i think about the fact that taylor swift thinks she's fat and people still hate sabrina carpenter for sticking by joshua bassett's side when he almost died, for God's sake, and now the people on my twitter feed are saying GUTS is the worst album they've ever heard. i liked it, the tiny voice in my head cries out. she wrote songs that made me feel noticed. they're calling the song i relate to the most a total skip.
so i close the app. i try not to think about the endless profiles screaming about how much they hate a nineteen/thirty-two/thirty-eight/twenty-three/twenty-six/forty-two year old. i try not to think about how much they would hate me, if they knew anything at all.
#this isn't necessarily in defense of the mentioned women#twitter has just been so disgusting in the past week#and everything written in italics is either a direct quote or paraphrased from twitter so that's awesome#so. yeah#what does this mean you ask#i don't know i respond#olivia rodrigo#beyonce#taylor swift#kylie jenner#sabrina carpenter#lana del rey#zendaya#miley cyrus#ariana grande#selena gomez#sophie turner#megan thee stallion
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart V
Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You're sick
Ingrid knew there would be health issues throughout your life. She knew that routine doctor's appointments would happen every year for you. She knew that the medication you took lowered your immune system.
She knew that at some point, you'd get sick.
She didn't realise it would be this quickly.
You woke with the sniffles which turned into a sore throat and then a headache and a bad tummy. It all spiralled from there.
It started on the weekend.
Saturday was spent going to a check up. Sunday was game day but on the drive home, you threw up all over yourself.
Monday was a day off and it was clear that you had no hope of getting better quickly. You were sniffly and tearful and it was an all-around bad time for everyone.
They take it in shifts with you. Ingrid stays with you for one half of the night. Mapi takes the rest of it.
There's twenty minute powernaps fitted in between it all when they can manage but most of their time is spent up with you as you struggle to find sleep.
"Mapi!" Ingrid calls," Come on, we've got to get to the car!"
She paces the length of the apartment with you in her arms. Your nose is all stuffy and you've woken up with the worst case of blocked ears of your life.
It's clear your ears are giving you the most grief. You whine and huff and desperately pull at them as if it will dislodge the build up in them.
Mapi's getting changed from her evening shift with you and Ingrid can do nothing but pace and pat your back in the hope of settling you back down.
It's been another bad night. You slept in short half an hour bursts in between crying, puking and crying some more.
Mapi skids into the room, still in her socks as she throws things into your bag, stocking up on medicine and water and your favourite toys. She hops around the room as she forces her shoes onto her feet before practically sprinting out of the door.
You make it to training just on time despite your awful wails the entire journey.
Patri and Pina both wince as Ingrid walks in with your sobbing form.
"What's wrong with her?"
"She's sick," Ingrid says plainly," Badly. The doctor said it's the flu."
As if to prove her point, you burst into a violent coughing fit and Mapi is instantly trying to soothe your throat with water as soon as it's over.
"Did you give her medicine?"
Ingrid angrily drops her bag into her cubby. "Oh, wow, Patri! What a revolutionary concept?! Giving medicine to my sick toddler! Why didn't we think of that?!" She snaps.
Ingrid sighs deeply as she looks at herself in the mirror.
"Sorry," She says after a long breadth of silence," I'm tired. I didn't mean to shout."
"No," Patri says quickly," You've clearly got a lot on your plate. I hope the little one feels better soon."
There's a respite briefly during training when you decide the hot Barcelona sun is perfect for napping in and you sleep under a tree nearby, wrapped up in a blanket despite the warm weather.
Mapi learnt very quickly not to fight you when you said you were cold despite the fever ravaging your body. All she can do is hope that the extra warmth breaks your fever so you can feel better when you wake up.
She's kind of happy with the outcome of your nap.
You've sweated out your fever which is good but you still feel bad. Your nose is still stuffy and you keep rubbing at your ears to unblock them.
The worst part of this now is that you've got clingier than ever before. You latch onto Mapi as soon as you see her and refuse to let go.
She's kind of glad all they're doing now is general fitness stuff because there's no way she could do anything technical with you still attached.
It's pushing it doing fitness stuff too but Mapi had come prepared.
It was an impulse purchase when you first fell sick and Ingrid had laughed until she cried when it arrived. Mapi was not dissuaded and she brought out her purchase, ignoring the snickering from Patri and Pina behind her.
With you still clingy and wanting nothing more than to crawl into Mami's skin, you let her manipulate your limbs into the toddler carrier.
She straps you in and then straps it to her chest.
She stands and has to find her balance quickly before triumphantly turning around to show everyone her solution.
They all laugh but Mapi doesn't care, not with the way you relax so easily against her and not when you fall into another fitful sleep.
#woso x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
629 notes
·
View notes
Text
bite the hand | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem musician!reader [face claim: clairo + clairo, boygenius and taylor swift music]
having fans are great, but sometimes it goes to far and you have to bite the hands that feed you
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 913,551 others
tagged: beabadoobee
yourusername: howdy ladies, gentlemen and all that's in between, it's single release day. i had so much fun on this track with bea and getting to pour all of my love for maxy onto such a cute melody... hope you all enjoy my loves x
view all comments
user1: YES THANK YOU MOM THIS IS JUST WHAT I NEEDED TODAY
landonorris: how many letters in devoured?
yourusername: ATE 💅
landonorris: ate and left NO crumbs
maxverstappen1: why oh why did i ever introduce you two
yourusername: because you love us both?
maxverstappen1: i sure love you, jury is out on lando
landonorris: boooooooooo
user2: ugh if y/n had to date an f1 driver why couldn't she go for one of the hot ones like lando or charles?
user3: for real like bro he just drags her down
user4: you can't be serious? he's a professional athlete at the top of his sport and by what they show us a massive softy who loves y/n? why would we want anything else for her?
liked by yourusername
user5: y/n will NOT stand for any max bashing idk why you guys try it every time
maxverstappen1: so unbelievably talented and the artist of her generation
yourusername: maybe it's because i have a top notch muse ?
maxverstappen1: NO NO IT'S ALL YOU YOU ARE THE ARTIST I AM JUST LUCKY TO BE IN YOUR VICINITY
yourusername: i am the lucky one baby
danielricciardo: leave your cute shit offline i already have to hear it all of the time let me be on instagram
yourusername: nope love my boyfriend too much
maxverstappen1: nope love my girlfriend too much
user6: they're so insufferable i love them
user7: this song bangs so much more when you pretend it's not about ... him
user8: bro is acting like max verstappen ran over his puppy
user7: sorry i don't want a GREAT artist and BEAUTIFUL woman being dragged down by THAT
user9: you are insane, you do not know y/n, you enjoy her music, that doesn't give you the right to have power over things in her personal life
user10: you people are why this fanbase has a bad name and before long y/n will get fed up too
maxverstappen1
liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 829,043 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: the off weekend spent right
view all comments
user13: i need a man so obsessed with me that all he does is post my face
user14: crazy that all this guy does is wax lyrical about how much he loves her and she's like never at his races ... interesting
user15: and her weirdly entitled fanbase say he doesn't deserve her when she clearly doesn't support him as much as he supports her
yourusername: i love you and our soft little weekends, i wanna do it all the time :(
maxverstappen1: gosh our day jobs are really quite unconventional i guess we should just retire to a remote island to live on a small farm?
yourusername: you said it not me i just wanna be anywhere with you
maxverstappen1: i love you <3
user16: RETIRE TO A REMOTE ISLAND? SOMEONE TELL THIS RAT THAT IF HE IS THE REASON WE DON'T GET MUSIC WE WILL RIDE AT DAWN
user17: babe have you ever thought that maybe the reason he said that he wants to retire away from everyone because you people stick your noses in all the time
danielricciardo: @yourusername a soft weekend you say? how many hours did max spend on the sim?
yourusername: a solid ten but he even let me have a go
danielricciardo: oh wow that man really is in love
maxverstappen1: i think she'd rival a couple of you with some practice, i'm working on getting her to join redline
user18: ugh this is so annoying... preaching like you like spending time with your girlfriend and then spend it all playing a video game and letting her have one go?
user19: the sim is something f1 drivers use to train? if anything max probably shouldn't have let y/n have a go she could've accidentally changed the set up or other things
user20: i'm seeing charles and lewis training this off weekend and he just lies in bed with this girl? he really needs to ditch her to stay at the top
user21: literally two comments up is them talking about him training on the sim the jealousy is insane from both fans at this point
maxverstappen1
liked by landonorris, yourusername and 893,442 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: happy to take home another win in mexico, i love this track and am forever thankful to this team and my loved ones.
view all comments
user25: holy shit idk what f1 can do but the paddock looked insane today there's no way that is safe for the drivers and personnel.
user26: there's so many videos of people rushing max and although some of them look like max fans who are just excited but there were a lot of very rude rival fans trying to get too close for comfort
yourusername: forever proud of you !! you're like jimmy and sassy with zoomies on crack <3
maxverstappen1: that is the highest of the high compliment thank you my love
yourusername: champagne is on me girlypops no expense spared for the love of my life
redbullracing: do we all qualify as girlypops ???
yourusername: of course !! don't think i didn't notice the supply of vegan pizza rolls you truly are the lactose intolerant allies of the grid
user27: can she stop spending all her hard earned money on this scrub that just uses her
user28: bro makes millions in a year he doesn't NEED her but that doesn't mean he can't want her? you guys are crazy
user29: some of these fans need to do some serious evaluation, drivers are not zoo animals, they are people and deserve respect and that includes respect to their personal space.
user30: for real like why was brad basically having to act as a body guard for max and y/n
user31: this was such a dangerous event for max and y/n. they're both very famous individuals and should be able to move around the paddock without being in danger.
user32: max joked about getting a body guard for this weekend but i think he should seriously consider it especially is y/n is coming to more races while she's not touring
danielricciardo: it has been brought to my attention that y/n has stated that she will spare no expense, i am making a formal enquiry into whether this will cover my bar tab?
yourusername: i will within reason but only because your bffs with maxy and will drink the fruity lil cocktails with me
danielricciardo: REAL men drink cocktails
maxverstappen1: do NOT disrespect the humble gin and tonic on my post
user33: i'm glad they're in high spirits after the shenanigans in the paddock today and the booing towards max :(
yourusername
liked by taylorswift, maxverstappen1 and 1,442,776 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: there is no full way to articulate my feelings right now. my fans have to respect my personal relationships and my boundaries. i appreciate your support but you have to understand that i am not your personal friend and you do not have the right to my personal life. i also understand that in sport, there are a lot of heightened emotions, but drivers do not owe you their safety. this is something i have felt for a long time since max and i became a public couple and the onslaught of hate came for him. you may say that it comes from a good place, or for my best interests, but the manner in which some 'fans' have expressed their 'worries' is unacceptable. i do not want to bite the hand that feeds me, but there's only so many slaps me and my loved ones can take from the hand.
bite the hand is out on all streaming platforms. please listen closely a re-evaluate your relationships with your favourite artists, thank you.
comments are not available on this post.
maxverstappen1
liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,220,664 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: i love you and i will never let other people tell me when i'm not enough get in my head again. we both appreciate our support and acknowledge that we would be nowhere without it. but our relationships are ours, please respect this.
comments are not available on this post
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,344,229 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: okay sad songs are important but it's now time for me to sing my wee little heart out about how much i love you and how i know we were always made for each other.
i love you maxy, invisible string is all about my muse. out now.
view all comments
user41: IT BANGS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
user42: ffs i guess we're stuck with this man for life now ...
user43: LISTEN TO BITE THE HAND AND BANG YOUR HEAD AGAINST THE WALL AND HEAR THE PINBALLS OF YOUR BRAIN GOING CRAZU
user44: speak your truth sis
maxverstappen1: ISN'T IT JUST SO PRETTY TO THINK THAT ALL ALONG THERE WAS SOME INVISIBLE STRING TYING YOU TO ME
maxverstappen1: so true, you make me believe in soulmates YOU ARE MY SOULMATE I LOVE YOU
yourusername: i love you to the moon and to saturn for real
yourusername: and that thread of gold is made from all of your trophies LET'S GO RAHHHHHHHH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU
maxverstappen1: the gold of that grammy @thegrammys yall heard bags?
user45: the way they're each others wags and completely embrace it
user46: i love that they're still their goofy asses they don't give a shit abou t yall
user47: y/n dropped a heart wrenching track and immediately went ... but hey i'm SUPER happy and that's all you're going to hear
landonorris: so like can y/n remix the dutch anthem so we can actually bop every weekend
yourusername: i kinda wanna marry the king of the netherlands so maybe not
landonorris: you broke up ?????
yourusername: no you dumbass max is the king of the netherlands
maxverstappen1: not factually but i do have a medal from the royal family so same thing
landonorris: why do you guys have to clown on me every time
yourusername: you're like our baby brother it's our duty
maxverstappen1: sorry not sorry
user48: you could never make me hate them they're made for each other
user49: finally bite the hand shamed the crazy bitches into finally shutting the fuck up
note: i love bite the hand i actually fear it might be my fave boygenius song and i recommend it to everyone. i actually did my university dissertation on parasocial relationships with athletes so like i feel like a good couple of sports fans could do with a listen to bite the hand. hope yall enjoyed and had a good weekend !! (chelsea gave me a heart attack but what's new, even though i was too sick to go to the game:()
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1#f1 x you#f1 social media au#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen instagram au#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
helloooo, could you write a fic where the OC is also a f1 driver and they're Lando's rival, buutt one race weekend she goes into his driver's room to argue with him but they do more because they're both frustrated? like pure smut
The Fine Line || LN4
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!driver!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, angst, smut WC: 1.6k F1 Masterlist
No one tried to stop you as you stormed through the McLaren garage, ascending the stairs two at a time just to reach the driver's room quicker. Your heel planted on the door and it flew open with a bang and left a handle sized hole in the plaster where it struck.
"I get that you don't like me but you don't have to drive me into the fucking wall, Norris."
Lando had barely returned to the room after crashing out of the race with the collision but you were too angry to see the state of his undress, his fireproof shirt carelessly strewn across the floor.
“You really think too highly of yourself,” he scoffed, pulling the door out from the wall and slamming it closed.
“So you didn’t cut into my line and take me out?” you dared, the video footage proof that it was exactly what he had done.
“I can’t stand you, why would I want to go anywhere near you and your precious racing line?” he growled as each step brought him closer until he was dominating your personal space.
Your lips pulled up into a taunting smirk and you tilted your head back to meet his eyes. “You are awfully close, for a man that doesn’t want to be near me.”
His eyes traced the curve of your lips before he dragged them back to your eyes and he dipped his head to whisper in your ear. “You came here first.”
Your mouth was dry as you swallowed and the room suddenly felt too hot. “Because you put me into a fucking wall, Norris.”
“This is putting you into a wall,” he said as he pushed you back.
You waited for the impact but his arm snaked around your back and his palm cradled your head before the contact came. His entire body was pressed the length of yours and a needy whine escaped your lips as the race high and adrenaline left your body screaming for an outlet.
“You like that? Hmm?” he smirked but you returned it as you rolled your hips and felt his erection proudly digging into your stomach.
“Don’t take it personally, Norris, it’s not you, you just have the right…bits.”
“I don’t believe you.” He fingers toyed with the zip and your collar, waiting to see if you would slap them away in this strange game of chicken. The only sounds were the quickening of your breath and the tear of Velcro before he drew the zip down your body and saw your skin-tight fireproof shirt beneath.
You dragged your nails down his back and smirked as he groaned at the heat that flared from the five angry red lines. Nipping at his jaw, he bucked his hips before you pushed him away. “And I don’t care.”
“Bullshit,” he chuckled when he recovered and combed a hand through his messy hair. “Just admit it, you want me.”
“I want you, Lando,” you admitted as you opened the door. “I want you…to stay the fuck off my race line.”
Two Months Later You had the cash ready in hand when the knock at your door came, but it wasn’t who you expected on the other side.
“Blocking me?” Lando huffed as he pushed his way inside your suite. “That’s fucking low.”
You rolled your eyes at the scathing attitude. “You think I wanted a penalty? I wasn’t even impeding you, there was plenty of room if you used your eyes to look for something other than the paddock bunnies.”
You started to close the door when the food you had ordered arrived, the poor man looking unsettled as his eyes danced between you and Lando. “Are you alright, ma’am? Would you like me to call security?”
The hostility was palpable and you chuckled as you took the bag, handing the money over with a sizable tip. “I can handle him, thanks.”
He clearly wasn’t all that satisfied but nodded and left, wishing you a good evening before you closed the door. The entire hotel didn’t need to hear you and Lando’s war of words.
“You can’t even handle qualifying,” he scoffed, peeking over your shoulder into the bag. “Is that katsu?”
“Yes, and no, you are not getting any.” You wanted to eat it while it was hot but you couldn’t ignore the papaya elephant in the room. “Did you come here for anything else?”
“Like what?”
“How would I know? I don’t know what goes on in that little head of yours. But I picture it’s something like that monkey banging cymbals together on repeat.”
“You were right with the banging,” he muttered as he helped himself to your mini bar. “Wrong with the animal.”
“Gross.” Effectively put off your food, you pushed the dish away and decided a drink was better. Lando was leaning against the countertop, his legs wide manspreading and his arms crossed, trying to look dominant. He watched you bend down to grab a miniature bottle of champagne from the fridge, not bothering with a glass as you popped the cork.
“Want a sip?” you offered. “It’s the closest you’ll get to tasting victory.”
“God I hate you,” he growled as he pushed your hand away.
You chuckled and took a sip of the sweet bubbles. “There’s a fine line between love and hate. I think you’re just confused.”
“Okay, I love to hate you.”
You stepped between his legs and placed your bottle next to his on the bench. He watched with half hooded eyes as you reached for his belt and made no effort to stop you from unbuckling it. “Is that why you always find a reason to come to my room?”
“Don’t act like you don’t get off on it too.” His arms uncrossed and his hands drifted over your hips before disappearing into the back pockets of your jeans where he squeezed your ass. His breath teased the shell of your ear as a hand snaked up your neck until he cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing beneath your eye as he whispered, “I remember seeing tears last time, you came so hard.”
“Those were tears of disappointment, that you couldn’t last longer,” you lied. The bastard was right, no one could make you angry like he could but it made for some explosive sex.
“I can go all night, baby,” Lando chuckled darkly before his hand dropped to the base of your throat and he crushed his lips to yours. His fingers tightened slightly, warning you of his strength as he pulled back and bit his bottom lip in contemplation. “Guess I’ll just have to remind you again.”
The colours of your clothes clashed as they were abandoned to the floor, his McLaren papaya and your Alpine pink proving just how badly the two together were. But it didn’t stop you from taking him to your bed, from your bodies colliding with desperate need, from crying out his name in ecstasy.
His body bore the marks of your nails, and yours held the marks of his mouth, where he had nipped and sucked his way across your collar. There was no care given between you in the primal need to chase a high, an outlet for the fire that burned inside of you, except for where you marked each other.
“There they are,” Lando chuckled proudly as his fingers left bruises on your hips, pulling you back to meet his hips with every long hard thrust. His pace was relentless, your thighs shaking as you lost all sense of self and screwed your eyes shut as you felt them begin to sting.
Your throat was hoarse and your lips swollen from the dominating kisses that stole the louder cries from them. His skin was slick with sweat and his breath came in quick pants as his forehead crumpled in restraint, his teeth clenched together.
“Go on, baby, open your eyes for me,” he taunted as a tear escaped the corner, disappearing into your hair as you shook your head. “No?”
He didn’t like to be denied and his palm slapped down on your clit, eliciting a sharp whimper as it only intensified the heat in your core. Your back arched and your lips curled into a smirk before parting with a drawn out moan as he snapped his hips even faster, the room filling with the sound of his skin slapping yours.
“Open. Your. Eyes,” he growled, pinching your nipple sharply.
“Ah,” you cried out as your eyes flew open and to meet his. The heat exploded as you came again, the waves of the orgasm rocking your entire body and his jaw fell slack at the feel of your walls clenching tight around him.
“Fuck,” he grunted as he succumbed to his own release. He pulled out and spilled himself over your stomach, fisting his cock and squeezing out every last milky drop before sitting back on his heels panting. His face was smug as he memorised the sight before him, your eyes half closed, your lips parted, the hickeys he left on your collar, the mess he left on your belly, your clit swollen and oversensitized, your cunt dripping with your arousal. “Fuck.”
He climbed off the bed, stumbling a bit with lightheadedness before catching himself and grabbing his clothes. You rolled over like a lazy cat and watched him dress just as quickly as he had undressed before leaving without a goodbye. You would have remained silent too with his exit except you heard the telltale crinkle of a paper bag and everything you felt before came crashing back.
“Get your own fucking food, Norris!”
#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smut#lando norris smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Idk if this is a hot take of any kind but I actually really like that Astarion's romance starts off in an unhealthy way and evolves. That's like ... the point? Ya know?
It's interesting. It adds layers and conflict. It allows for growth and evolution. And Larian have claimed multiple times that it was on purpose, that many video game romances have sex as the culmination while here, some characters will fuck you immediately but then what? What happens after? Sex isn't the reward, but part of the relationship. There is more beyond. But people think that there being stuff beyond sex means that that's the only value that exists, and that the sex adds nothing. But in Astarion's case, it's extremely important?
It's complicated. His relationship with sex is complicated. They did it on purpose. That's the point. So what if it's not "uwu soft trust me I don't want sex please let's just hold hands" from the start? He doesn't trust the PC from the start, so why the fuck would he agree to that? He doesn't know them at all. He needs to do things his way because he's not ready for anything else yet. And if you feel sad for him, that's fine, because it's meant to be sad? But to the point of it becoming anger at the people who wrote it? That's weird, man. Astarion isn't real, you're not hurting a real person, and he literally asks Tav for it? In my case, he asks them twice before they say yes. They're not forcing him into anything. The only time you can force him is after the Araj scene, and he immediately breaks up with you after. So he's clearly perfectly capable of ending things if they get too toxic.
I swom to Jon just romance someone else at that point. Idk if this is my romance writer brain talking but well-written, not contrived, and non-abusive conflict is actually rare and sometimes difficult to write, but IMO every good romance needs conflict. Because at the end of the day, it's also a story?
It's not perfect because it's not meant to be. It's meant to be a starting point to evolve from. Sometimes things can be unhealthy without being abusive or problematic TM.
Anyway. Yeah I like how fucked up it is. Because Astarion is fucked up. It makes it more real and more compelling. I made my Tav fucked up to match.
"Well my Tav wouldn't fall for it and would realize ...!" Roleplay harder. Clearly Tav/Durge aren't meant to pick up on his manipulations from the start, or overlook them, or fall for them. There's a bajillion different ways to justify it. If you can't see past your own meta knowledge, romance someone else.
But if you really want the relationship to start without sex then just write that fic? Why are you demanding that Larian caters to your specific tastes and sensibilities? They had a story to tell and they told it. You not liking it is neither a personal a slight against you nor their problem.
978 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.
"i can show you" scene • episode 1
the first wille’s smile of the season and simon is the one and only reason for it to happen *act surprised*.
he has no rush but takes his time to enjoy simon’s presence, looking from afar first and then approaching him. just having him there is enough to make him This happy.
the casual gestures of fixing the jacket or bumping into the shoulder make me melt - just typical boyfriends things and we absolutely praise them in this house!
wille's flirtatious mood in this whole sequence is the best thing that could've happened to me - to simon too! the "i can show you", the whispering, the head's nod. he's still my fav loser but oh how much he has learned and stepped up the game.
also, i genuinely think not showing them holding hands here with a wider shot is a crime.
such a perfect parallel of the fish scene and they're probably reminded of that too: this time it's wilhelm's bedroom and a foreign place for simon, so he's the curious one - looking around and taking the space in - while wille simply waits for him.
simon's "mysigt" to describe the room, just like wilhelm did. it is another special moment for both of them.
this. this. this!!! claim a s3 moment as your own - this is mine.
to me it is the most seductive and romantic one they've ever shared hands down. it comes straight out of a fanfic.
the tension, the longing, the chemistry, the flirting. there's so much to unpack here: wille's breath is literally vibrating and simon's presence is so intense, he builds up the tension and keeps wilhelm waiting for his next move in the most endearing way - wille is also leaning into his hand at the end. there's no talking, they're barely touching but still filling the room with all the passion and attraction they feel for one another - this is actually insanely scripted and portrayed.
no thoughts head empty just simon's tongue and his hands through wille's hair (he's obsessed, excuse him!).
and it kinda seems like simon is getting pulled closer by the waist or he's pushing himself closer - either way it's hot soo
simon's little leg lift and him pinning wille down on the bed by the wrist right before the cut - they're comfortable and open and so playful with each other. wilhelm's hand that caresses simon's back is very much important too.
simon caressing wille's cheek (he has to return the favor ig) and wilhelm leaning up again when they interrupt the kiss.
these brief moments are the cutest. i love how they stay so close and can't stop tracing each other's features.
the nose rub. the mirrored smiles. they've missed and wanted this for so long and they're taking the most of it.
this whole scene is so passionate and they're both so touchy bc they were clearly waiting for this to happen - during a meeting at the palace might not be the greatest scenario, but the thrill that comes with it is definitely something.
i like the role play throughout the scene sm: wille initiates the first kiss, simon is the one taking the lead next and then it all comes back to wille rolling them over and taking initiative. the neck action is a serious thing for him and idk where his hand would've ended up if they hadn't been interrupted - and we do! love! all of it!
they're laughing over the fact that they were not caring about anything at all but spending quality time with each other. and they deserve it so freaking much.
look at them!!! this is not a subtle look bc they simply do not care anymore. i adore them your honor.
#we're back baby#young royals#young royals analysis#yr s3#i can show you scene#wilhelm x simon#wilmon
526 notes
·
View notes
Text
We shouldn't be doing this ・ 。゚Natasha Ramnoff
content warning — Smut, Shower Sex, Degration Kink, Mommy Kink, Angst
pairing — Fem Reader X Natasha Romanoff
summary — Steve, an avenger, faces tension with his girlfriend Natasha at a shindig. Wanda suggests they make a great couple, but the protagonist refuses. Natasha admires their friendship, asks to fuck him, and makes him feel vulnerable.
word count — 6.0k
Life as an avenger was a constant rollercoaster of danger and responsibility. One day, we could be on the hunt for an Alien threatening to destroy the world, and the next we could be in a high-level meeting discussing how to utilize our powers and resources for the good of humanity.
But even superheroes needed a break, and when we did get some time off, the team liked to spend it together. Tonight was one of those rare occasions.
"What's on the agenda tonight?" I asked Tony, always the mastermind behind our group outings.
"Well, my dear comrades, I have decided to throw a little shindig for us. Drinks, dancing, games...the whole nine yards," he grinned mischievously at all of us.
"The crew? Are you twelve years old?" Bucky teased him.
"Hey now, don't be boosting his ego too much. He's ancient," Sam chimed in with a sly smile.
"Says the man born in the 20s," Tony retorted playfully.
"Well, if Nat's going then count me in," I declared, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Actually, Nat won't be joining us tonight. We have a date," Steve announced proudly, looking at his girlfriend with adoration in his eyes.
Natasha looked back at him with confusion written all over her face. Clearly, she had no idea about this so-called date Steve had planned.
Tony shot me a look that said "uh-oh, trouble." I couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his expression, but when everyone turned to look at me, I quickly diverted my attention to my water bottle.
"Nat is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions," I spoke up honestly after disposing of my empty bottle.
I was sick and tired of Steve treating Natasha like he owned her. She was my best friend and under no one's spell. I couldn't understand what she saw in him, especially since they were always bickering, but I admired her for standing up to him. His mind was still stuck in the 20s.
"Stay out of my relationship," Steve snapped at me, his tone harsh and accusatory.
"Don't talk to her like that!" Natasha slammed her hands on the table, her voice filled with frustration.
"What did you just say?" Steve's anger was evident in his eyes.
"You heard me. Don't. Talk. To. Her. Like. That," Natasha spat back at him.
And so it began, another argument between the two of them. Tony, Bucky, and Sam quickly made their escape, and I attempted to do the same, but Natasha called out my name, causing me to pause and turn back towards them.
"Why do you always drag her into our problems? Leave her out of this," Steve shouted at Natasha.
"I'll involve whoever I want to. You don't own me, Steve. I'm sick of this bullshit," Natasha shot back fiercely.
I wanted nothing more than to leave and take a nice hot shower to escape the tension in the room. I speed-walked down the hallway but bumped into Wanda along the way. She smiled sympathetically at me before glancing down the hallway where we could still hear Nat and Steve going at it.
"They're fighting again? What happened now?" Wanda asked in disbelief.
"I know, can you believe it's already the fourth time today? Tony was planning a team get-together and Nat said she would go, but then Steve said she couldn't, and well...you can hear how that turned out," I explained, nodding my head towards the source of the commotion down the hall.
Wanda sighed and shook her head in exasperation before turning back to face me.
"You and Nat would make a great couple, you know," she shrugged nonchalantly.
"Excuse me? Me and Nat? No way. She's Nat, and besides, she's my best friend," I laughed off the suggestion.
"Y/n, your thoughts are too loud to hide from me. Just something to think about," Wanda said with a knowing smile before walking away.
As I continued on my way to the shower, I couldn't help but wonder if Wanda was right. Maybe there was more to my feelings for Natasha than just friendship. But for now, all I wanted was a peaceful evening without any drama or arguments.
As I walked away from her, a thin smile graced my lips in response to her comment about my secrets. With each step, the sound of my feet hitting the ground echoed through the hallway. Suddenly, I heard her voice ring out behind me.
"I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT EVERYONE, DON'T WORRY!" she shouted after me.
Ignoring her, I sent her a defiant middle finger and continued on my way to my room. Once inside, I quickly gathered all of my shower essentials and headed into the bathroom. Stripping off my clothes and tossing them carelessly into a corner, I was interrupted by the sudden intrusion of someone barging into my room.
"Ugh, this better be important. I'm about to take a shower," I called out irritably.
To my surprise, it was Natasha standing in front of me with a weight seemingly lifted off her shoulders. Concerned, I wrapped a towel around my body and stepped out into my room to face her.
"Hey, are you okay?" I asked gently.
Without hesitation, she scanned me up and down with clear admiration in her eyes. Our friendship had always been like this - playful flirtation and pretending to be each other's girlfriends to ward off unwanted advances from guys.
"Eyes up here, Romanoff," I warned as her gaze lingered on my chest.
"Kiss me," she stated bluntly.
I hesitated for a moment, knowing that she had a boyfriend and not wanting to complicate things between us.
"Nat...as much as I would love for you to...you know...fuck me...you have a boyfriend and I don't want to-"
"Y/n, listen. Steve and I aren't together anymore. So please just let me fuck you until you can't walk," she said earnestly, looking directly into my eyes.
I couldn't help but feel conflicted as she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. They were just as soft and inviting as I remembered, and I couldn't resist kissing her back. Lost in the moment, we stumbled towards the bathroom, our hands desperately tugging at each other's clothes.
Once inside, Natasha pulled away from me with a mischievous smirk on her face.
"Let's get rid of these," she said playfully, gesturing to my towel.
"I like them where they are," I teased back, unable to take my eyes off of her.
"Baby, I thought you wanted me to fuck you," she pouted, running her fingers along my jawline.
"I do," I whined, feeling more turned on by the second.
"Well then, let's remove this obstacle," she whispered seductively before nibbling on my ear as she tugged on my towel.
"Mmmh, I think you're right, Natty," I replied breathlessly.
In one swift motion, she pulled down my towel so that I was standing fully naked in front of her. Her eyes roamed over my body with hunger and desire, making me feel small and vulnerable under her intense gaze.
"You are going to be so much fun," she murmured, tracing her finger lightly over my chest before pushing me into the shower.
As the warm water cascaded over my body, I couldn't help but let out a slight moan. Natasha stepped in behind me and pressed her body against mine, her lips crashing onto mine once again. As our tongues tangled and hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, I couldn't believe what was happening. And as she pinned me against the wall of the shower and continued to ravish me with kisses and touches, I knew that this would be a night to remember.
The hot steamy shower added so much passion into our little hookup. It made everything way more hotter than normal. The way Natasha's red hair looked as the water trickled down her body was a sight I will never forget.
She placed her hands on my thighs and tapped on them. She picked me up and I wrapped myself around her waist. I began to try and grind myself to try get some sort of friction which worked for a minute as I grinded myself on her abs but when she realised what I was doing she stopped me
"Such a desperate little whore aren't you? Look at you so pathetic trying to get yourself off by using my abs" she degraded me
I could feel myself get wet at her choice of words. I was dumbfounded and my moth couldn't even form words.
"You like that? You like it when I call you a whore baby?" She smiled evilly at me
There definitely was a pool between my legs at this point. She kept staring into my eyes when she spoke to me which made it harder to keep eye contact when she was saying these hypnotising things
"Answer me slut" she snarled
"Ye-yes mommy I do" I replied with a smirk once I pulled myself together
She wore her famous smirk on her face as she stared into my eyes. "Mommy? God I love that" she smirked
She began to attack my body with kisses. Sucking,biting and leaving marks all along my neck,chest shoulders you name it she marked it. She slammed us against the wall and I slowly got off her waist moaning quietly at her marking my body
She placed her knee between my thighs so my pussy was resting on her knee. She pushed it up hard causing me to moan loudly and my moan echoed around the room I quickly covered my mouth but Nat grabbed my wrist and removed my hand from my mouth
"I want to hear those pretty moans, go on scream shout let everyone know that Starks golden child is being fucked by the black widow" she said with lust in her eyes and voice
She gripped both of her hands on my waist and began to harshly push my hips into her knee. The pleasure shot through my body sending shivers down my spine.
"GOD NAT" I moaned loudly
She smirked wildly at me and began to slow down. Which was horrible I needed a release the knot that once was in my stomach had disappeared. My head was resting on Natasha's shoulder.
"Ple-please Nat I NEED you" i panted
"What, you have me what more could you want" she slowed down even more
"Mommy please your killing me" I breathed out
"Such a little slut aren't we? Be a good girl and beg for it" she instructed me
"Please please mommy let me finish all over your knee, I will be a good girl-please mommy" I begged
"Go on get yourself off I want to watch you" she smirked at me
She let go of my hips and I began to grind myself down onto her knee. It felt so good, moans began to fall out of my mouth. I picked up the paste and I could feel my tits bouncing as I moved up and down on her. I had my eyes shut and I threw my head back in pleasure when she flexed her leg.
I opened my eyes and seen Natasha was fingering herself. God it was hot. I shoved 3 of my fingers in her and she moaned
"YES Y/N RIGHT THERE" I picked up the pace
I could feel the knot in my stomach again. I was so close. I could tell Natasha was too by the way she was pulsing on my fingers.
"I'm so close mommy" I moaned
Natasha's moans echoed through the bathroom as I thrust a fourth finger inside of her without warning. Her legs flexed and she threw her head back, lost in pleasure. I quickened my pace, my body on the verge of climaxing.
"PLEASE NAT, I CAN'T HOLD IT!" I cried out, overcome with desire. "Cum on me," she moaned in response.
The sound of our passionate encounter filled the small bathroom, but in that moment, we didn't care who could hear us. My fingers continued to move inside of Natasha as she reached her peak, her release coating my hand.
We collapsed against each other, panting and exhausted. I rested my head against her neck and she nestled hers into mine, peppering light kisses along my skin.
"Holy- fuck," she panted between breaths. "That was...the best shower of my life."
I breathed out a laugh and nodded in agreement. But just as we were starting to relax and catch our breath, Natasha reminded me that we had plans for the evening.
"We should get ready for tonight. That is, if you're still going..." I told her hesitantly.
"Y/n, if you're going, I am going," she said with a smile.
I bit my lip nervously and flashed a shy smile in return. We exited the shower and wrapped towels around our bodies before parting ways to get dressed. As I put on my favorite red dress, revealing just enough cleavage to make it daring yet elegant, Wanda burst into my room with excitement.
"Oh my God!" she squealed. "Natasha and Steve broke up!"
My acting skills came into play as I pretended to be shocked and happy by this news. Wanda bought it completely.
"No way! Really? You're not joking with me?" I exclaimed.
"I wouldn't do that to you!" She laughed. "How did you find out?"
"I overheard Steve telling Bucky," she informed me.
"I thought Natasha and I were the spies here, not you witchy," I teased her.
"That's not the only thing you and Natasha are," she smirked.
"What are we, Wanda?" I turned to face her.
"Each other's future wives," she smirked again.
I rolled my eyes playfully while trying to hide my blush. But Wanda was right, there was definitely something special between Natasha and me.
"You look beautiful, by the way. Is that for Vision?" I joked with a wink.
"Shut up, I can dress up for myself, you know!" Wanda shook her head in mock annoyance.
"Mmhm, yeah, but that dress is new and I know you wouldn't wear it unless you were planning to impress him," I teased as we linked arms and made our way down the hallway.
"Well, I could say the same. We both know a certain spy's favorite color is red," Wanda joked back as we walked.
"But how do you know I'm not trying to impress you? Your favorite color is red too," I responded with a sly smile.
"Well, if that's the case..." she smiled mischievously and we both burst out laughing.
As we entered the main room, still giggling about our love lives, we noticed that it was practically empty except for Tony, Maria, Steve, Vision, and Natasha.
"Well, isn't this quite the party," Wanda quipped at Tony as we approached the small group.
My laughter echoed through the spacious room as I stood with Wanda, trying to decide who to talk to first. There were so many people to choose from in this tower, and we were all gathered here for some unknown reason. "You two give it up," Tony commented, rolling his eyes. "People are coming, unlike you two. Some of us have lives outside of this tower." Maria smirked at me, her gaze lingering on my face. "Well, Y/n certainly does," she said suggestively. "What are you on about, Ms. Hill?" Vision asked curiously. "From the looks of it, Y/n has had some fun recently," Maria grinned, gesturing towards my neck.
Suddenly, everyone's attention turned to me. What was Maria talking about? Wanda slapped my arm playfully. "Miss Y/L/N! What is that on your neck?" she gasped. "It appears to be a hickey, I believe," Vision stated loudly. "WHO HAS A HICKEY?!" Sam's voice boomed as he and the rest of the group descended down the stairs. "Y/N!" Maria exclaimed, causing everyone to focus their attention on me.
I blushed furiously as they began to bombard me with questions. "When did this happen?" Bucky smirked mischievously. "Doesn't matter, it's none of anyone's business," I replied coolly as I sat down on the couch and grabbed a beer from the cooler.
"Okay, so it had to be recently, like in the last 2-3 days," Carol calculated, her eyes scanning my appearance. Tony looked disgusted while Bruce seemed uncomfortable and kept shifting in his seat.
"But Y/n doesn't leave the compound," Wanda announced defensively. "I do too!" I defended myself, feeling slightly hurt by their disbelief.
"I mean, she clearly does," Rhodes pointed at my neck accusingly. "Can we stop talking about this?" I asked, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable.
"Yeah, please, can we?" Tony pleaded, looking like he was about to have a heart attack. "But-" Vision started to say.
"Yes, Vis?" Wanda interrupted him. "If Y/n went out and had intercourse with another person...well, that's impossible," Vision stated matter-of-factly.
"How is it impossible?" I asked, confused by his statement. "You haven't left the compound in 4 days apart from that mission, and unless you slept with someone from Hydra 4 days ago, plus the fact that those hickeys look somewhat fresh...it's impossible that you had intercourse elsewhere...plus-" Vision was suddenly cut off by a loud outburst from Tony.
"STOP! STOP! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Tony yelled, causing everyone to turn their attention towards him. I could see the shock on Rhodey's face as he exclaimed, "Stark, seriously?! She's half your age!"
My eyes went wide as I realized what they were all hinting at. "Ewww, no! No, we didn't," Tony defended himself quickly.
"Stop it now, please," I begged as I placed my hands over my face in embarrassment.
Tony stood up abruptly and walked over to the bar, while Natasha sat smirking and sipping her beer. Bruce also seemed preoccupied with Nat, which wasn't unusual since they were close friends. "Wait, so Y/n brought someone to her room and slept with them?" Carol looked around at the group.
"It isn't anyone here," I said quickly, trying to deflect the attention away from myself.
"I'm going to join Tony at the bar," Bruce announced suddenly, trying to make a quick escape. But Carol and Maria stopped him. "You know something, Brucey. What is it?" Maria interrogated him.
"Leave the poor guy alone," Nat defended him, giving Bruce a reassuring glance.
"Come on, aren't you dying to find out who she slept with?" Carol asked Nat eagerly.
"Of course I am, but we all know Mr. Anger over here gets uncomfortable easily," Nat teased back, causing Maria and Wanda to laugh.
"Oh, Witchy Witchy," Maria smirked at Wanda, who responded with an equally mischievous grin as she slowly walked over to Bruce.
I could see the worry in Bruce's eyes as he sent a quick glance my way. Fuck, he must have overheard something. I gave him a questioning look, hoping he knew something that could explain this situation. He looked away, his expression filled with concern. Damn, he definitely heard something.
With a sudden burst of energy, Sam practically leapt 6 feet in the air, exclaiming, "HE KNOWS WHO IT IS!"
"NO- GUYS I DONT," he quickly defended himself as everyone turned to look at him.
"DO IT NOW WANDA," Bucky smirked at her, urging her to reveal the identity.
I glanced at Nat and Bucky, who were sitting closely beside each other. Dread filled me as I realized that soon everyone would know.
"Guys, who actually cares who she slept with?" Steve groaned, clearly annoyed by the situation.
"Everyone apparently," Nat shot back, glaring at him. "Well Tony doesn't, nor do I," he began to walk away.
"Well you would care," Bruce murmured quietly under his breath.
"What was that Brucey?" Wanda smirked playfully. "Hmmmmm?" He acted dumb, but we all knew what he had said.
"Let him go guys please, this is embarrassing for me. It's my life, not yours," I pleaded with them, trying to diffuse the tension.
But my efforts were in vain as Wanda's smirk grew wider and red wisps of energy emanated from her hands. She was reading Bruce's mind. Suddenly, she gasped and Bruce quickly ran to Tony, apologizing frantically.
"I'M SO SORRY Y/N!" he shouted over his shoulder as he rushed away.
"OH MY GOD," Wanda smirked at me, her eyes glinting mischievously. "WHO IS IT?"
"WITCHY TELL US!" Maria exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement.
Wanda paused for a moment before announcing with a sly smile, "It's someone in this room."
The group erupted into a frenzy of questions, desperate to uncover the truth. Maria gasped in shock while Carol couldn't hide her curiosity.
"Okay, who was getting it on with Y/n?" Sam's wide smirk displayed his eagerness to know.
"It could be a girl," Natasha pretended it wasn't her and shrugged nonchalantly.
"That's funny," Steve commented, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.
"So what if it is a girl, Steve? It's my body, not yours," I deflected his judgmental comment.
"Well, it's wrong," he argued back, causing me to roll my eyes in frustration.
"Wanda..." Maria turned to her, hoping she would reveal more information.
I gave Wanda a pleading look, but she shook her head at me. Little witch.
"I'll give you all a hint: their favorite color is red," Wanda began, enjoying the power she held over everyone's thoughts.
"Okay, so that rules out Sam and Nat. Plus, we already established that it isn't Tony or Natasha," Maria listed off potential suspects in the room.
Vision looked relieved at being cleared as a suspect, and I couldn't help but find it cute in that moment. But then reality hit once again.
"Okay, to cut ties. Sam had no clue, so that's him out," Clint suggested logically. "And let's be real, we all know he wouldn't be able to pull Y/n anyway."
Sam was highly offended by this insinuation and tried to argue his case, but I quickly shut him down. Natasha smirked at me for turning him down while the rest of the group joined in on teasing him.
"Well then that leaves two possibilities: Bucky's exes Nat and Steve," Bucky stated matter-of-factly. My heart sank at the thought of either of them being involved.
Steve was busy chatting with Tony and Bruce at the bar, completely unaware of the conversation happening right next to them.
"Well, it has to be one of them. Maybe they used Y/n as a rebound since they just broke up," Carol suggested, causing me to feel even more upset.
"I'm not some lousy one night stand," I interjected, feeling hurt by the words being thrown around.
"Are we correct that it is one of them, Wanda?" Vision asked politely, trying to move the conversation along.
"Yes, you are," she confirmed with a mischievous smirk.
"Well, I could be right then," Carol shrugged her shoulders confidently.
"You really think that?" I asked sadly.
"Well, I mean, it is strange that they broke up and whoever it is ran to you. Maybe they did it as a way to get back at Steve for something," Carol said without thinking.
I sat there in shock as Maria slapped her on the arm for her insensitivity.
"My money is on Steve. He's always had a thing against Y/n and it would make sense if it was an enemies-to-lovers situation," Sam boomed confidently.
"Nah, I think it has to be Nat. If we're going off of what Carol said, she would want to get under Steve's skin by sleeping with his best friend who he dislikes," Thor chimed in with his own theory.
Everyone began agreeing with Thor and even I couldn't help but consider their theories. After all, Nat and Steve were always on-again-off-again. But the thought of either one of them using me as a pawn in their love triangle made my stomach churn.
As I looked at her, my heart ached and tears began to fill my eyes. She was about to say something before she was stopped by Tony's outburst.
"STOP IT! Can't you all see what this is doing to her? Look at her, she is on the verge of tears. You are all making her feel like a piece of shit, like some cheap hooker," Tony defended me passionately.
I looked up and saw Bruce standing next to him, offering his support. Tony protectively placed his hands on my shoulders while Bruce sat beside me, gently placing his hand on my knee in an attempt to comfort me.
"You should all be ashamed of yourselves. We have all gone to Y/n with our secrets at one point or another, and she has never said a word. Is this how you want to repay her? By speaking about her personal life with such lack of empathy?" Bruce's tone was harsh as he scolded the group.
A tear streamed down my face, which I quickly wiped away as everyone's eyes turned to me. I could feel their gaze, but some were shamefully looking at the ground. Without warning, I felt someone wrap their arms around me from behind - it was Natasha.
"Well, I'm telling you now it wasn't me," Wanda spoke up with a smile.
I wrapped my arms around her, taking in her comforting scent. She truly gave the best hugs. As I cried softly into her shoulder, all the hurtful thoughts and accusations that had been swirling in my mind disappeared.
"It's okay, you're okay," she whispered softly to me.
But suddenly, everything came flooding back as I remembered what they had done. "No, please get off of me," I pushed Wanda away and stood up.
Feeling disgusted and betrayed, I walked away from the group. Carol was right; Natasha had used me to get under Steve's skin, and he watched me leave with a smug grin on his face - I could see it from a mile away.
From Natasha's point of view, Y/n had just stormed out of the main hall. As she looked at the rest of the group, they all wore expressions of guilt. Anger rose up in Natasha like never before.
"Baby, did you do this to make me jealous?" Steve approached her.
"Don't fucking call me that," Natasha snapped at him.
"In fact, I don't want any of you to even call me your friend anymore. None of you are my friends after what you did tonight. The only people who I consider friends are Tony and Bruce. The rest of you are just horrible colleagues that I have to put up with," she yelled at them.
"Nat, we're sorry. We didn't think she would..." Wanda started to apologize, but Natasha cut her off.
"Out of all the people, you were the last person I expected to do this to her - to us," Natasha said, disappointment evident in her voice.
"Actually, no, scratch that. I didn't think any of you would be so cruel. But here we are. So since you all are dying to know - YES, I slept with Y/n. And NO, Carol, it wasn't to get back at Steve. It was because I genuinely love her with every piece of my body, and I would die for her. It was the best experience I've ever had because I was with someone who truly cares not only for me but for everyone around her. Y/n would go to hell and back for any one of you. So fuck you all," Natasha stormed out.
She went to her room and slammed the door shut behind her. Frantically changing into her comfortable pajamas, she grabbed Y/n's favorite hoodie which always goes missing when she's away on missions. Determined to fight for her and prove her love, Natasha left her room and went down to find Y/n's room. She had to show her girl that she was willing to go to great lengths for their love.
Your POV
The weight of disappointment and hurt settled heavily on my chest. With a heavy heart, I trudged to my room, eager to shed the facade of happiness that I had worn all day. Taking comfort in soft, loose clothes, I wiped away the thick layer of makeup and let myself succumb to tears.
As I lay in bed, memories of Natasha and the events of the day flooded my mind. How could I have been so naive? Of course she slept with me as a way to get back at Steve. The realization stung like a fresh wound.
But amidst the pain and betrayal, one moment stood out - our encounter in the shower. For a brief moment, she had smiled at me with genuine affection before kissing me again. Was it all just a ploy to manipulate me?
My thoughts spiraled into self-doubt and anger towards my friends, especially Wanda for exposing my vulnerability and feelings for Natasha.
"Why did I trust her?" I cried to myself.
A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts, but I ignored it. Using my powers to lock the door, I refused to let anyone in unless it was Bruce or Tony. But they persisted and eventually picked the lock.
Ready to defend myself with my magic, I sat up on the bed as they entered. To my surprise, it was Natasha who walked in with a gentle expression on her face.
"Did you not hear me? Last time I checked, you're not Tony or Bruce," I sniffled, trying to regain composure.
"I may not have a clean record like them, but I promise you, I'm not here to hurt you," she spoke softly as she approached me.
"Nat, please just go away," I pleaded.
"You'll have to make me if you want that to happen," she challenged with determination in her eyes.
I braced myself, ready to use my powers against her despite my reluctance to do so. But her words and gaze softened me, and I slowly dissipated the energy ball in my hands.
"That's it, Natasha. It's just me," she whispered, sitting at the end of my bed with a familiar hoodie in her hand - my favorite one.
But even the comfort of my cherished item couldn't ease the disgust I felt towards myself. "Giving me this hoodie won't change how I feel about what happened," I told her bitterly.
Her face fell at my harsh words, and for a moment, I regretted lashing out. But I pushed away any guilt and continued, "Why wouldn't I be disgusted? You slept with me to spite Steve, and now everyone sees me as a cheap whore you use when you need a boost."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she asked softly, "Is that how little you think of me?"
I paused, realizing I had let my hurt and anger cloud my judgment. "You're not denying it, so yes, I did think that lowly of you – no, wait, that's not true." My voice cracked with emotion. "I don't want to believe that about you."
"Y/n, listen to me. I didn't sleep with you to get back at Steve. I don't care about his opinion. But I care about yours," she pleaded with sincerity etched on her features.
She gazed into my eyes, her expression filled with sincerity and love. "You're not some cheap hooker or a whore, Y/n. I slept with you because I have real feelings for you. I couldn't resist acting on them the first chance I got," she confessed to me.
I felt a lump form in my throat as her words touched my heart. I was about to respond when she silenced me with a gentle kiss. My body responded instantly, melting into her touch. She pulled away after a few seconds, leaving tears in my eyes.
"Why the tears?" she asked, cupping my face in her hands.
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Nat. It wasn't fair of me to judge you like that," I apologized, my voice trembling with emotion.
"Don't worry about that. I'm okay. Let's talk about it and I'll help you through it, if you want me to," she reassured me, rubbing my cheek tenderly.
I couldn't shake off the looks of judgement from everyone at the party. They made me feel dirty and ashamed. I know some of it may have been in my head, but Carol's words really got to me and made sense. I had been suppressing my feelings for Nat for so long, thinking they were wrong and that no one would accept us. But then we shared that moment in the shower and it felt right, until Carol's words brought all my doubts rushing back.
"Fuck it. I'm so in love with you," I blurted out, tears streaming down my face now.
Nat looked at me with so much love in her eyes that it made my heart swell with emotion. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and buried my head in her shoulder while she drew soothing patterns on my back.
"Thank you for listening to me," I mumbled against her.
"Hey, it's what I'm here for," she replied sweetly.
We pulled away and I took the jumper from her lap and put it on. She chuckled at me and I pulled her into my bed, pulling the covers over us. We both decided to keep our relationship private, but not a secret.
"You looked breathtaking tonight," Nat complimented me, her eyes filled with admiration.
"Thank you. The dress was for you," I blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
"But I have to say, you are effortlessly gorgeous," she said with a smile.
"That's not true," I shook my head.
"Yes, it is. Even right now, lying here next to me. You are perfect in every way," I whispered softly.
"I'm not perfect, Y/n. Trust me," she said honestly.
"ты всегда будешь идеальной в моих глазах Наталья Романова," I whispered against her lips, reminding her of how perfect she will always be in my eyes.
She smiled into the kiss and lightly held onto my waist as I gently ran my fingers through her red hair.
"Не важно что," I mumbled against her lips, reaffirming that nothing else mattered to me.
"When did you learn Russian?" she asked with a curious smile.
"I learned it for you a while ago. I'm now fluent," I bragged a little, feeling proud of myself.
"How come you never spoke it before?" she questioned playfully.
"I was learning it to ask you out, but then you started dating Steve and all I knew how to say at the time was 'Natasha Romanoff, will you go out with me?' and 'I love you'," I laughed a little at the memory.
"Stop, please tell me you're lying," she groaned, burying her head into my chest in embarrassment.
"Unfortunately, no. But I continued to learn it so I could say things to you without the team knowing," I smiled softly at her.
Nat's eyes sparkled with love and adoration as she leaned in for another kiss, grateful for our secret language that only we shared.
My heart skipped a beat as her beautiful smile lit up her face. "Wait, you learned how to say 'I love you'?" she asked, looking up at me with shining eyes. "Yeah, it was one of the first things my teacher taught me," I replied, a fond smile tugging at my lips.
"Say it in Russian for me," she requested, her smile growing wider.
"But you already know how to say it in Russian," I said, confused by her request.
"Amuse me," she replied with a playful glint in her eyes.
My heart swelled with adoration as I spoke the words in Russian: "Я люблю вас."
Her smile softened and she echoed the words back to me: "я тоже тебя люблю, Y/N." It felt like an exchange of promises, a declaration of our feelings for each other.
She leaned in and kissed me, and I eagerly returned the gesture. In that moment, as we stood there with our arms wrapped around each other, I knew that I never wanted to be anywhere without her. She had tricked me into saying those three little words, but they were more than just words. They were a reflection of what we both felt deep in our hearts - love.
©Elena do not copy, edit, or translate my works.
#marvel smut#natasha romanoff x reader smut#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff smut#wlw smut#gxg smut#natasha x y/n#natasha x reader#bottom natasha romanoff#sub natasha romanoff#top reader#dom reader#x reader
506 notes
·
View notes
Text
Finding A Way - Luke Hughes
Summary: Luke is smitten with the new media girl for the Devils, the only issue... she has a boyfriend already (and he's a Flyers fan)
Content: angst, fluff, cheating, unhealthy relationship, emotional abuse, mentions of sex but no smut
wc: 6.5k
notes: this fic deals with some serious issues, so if you're not comfortable reading PLEASE do not continue. your mental health is wayyyyy more important than a fic, i promise :) however if you do decide to read, enjoy! i've had this written in my notes app for a while and just decided to finish it and put it on here!
Adelaide giggled as Luke stopped suddenly, letting the ice spray over the girl and her camera. Jack watched from the other side of the ice with Nico, rolling his eyes at the sight. Luke had been flirting with the new media girl since the season started but was still adamant that he didn't like her in a romantic way.
"When is he gonna ask her out?" Nico asked, knocking his should with Jack's.
"He still claims that he doesn't like her," Jack shrugged, narrowing his eyes as Adelaide giggled again.
"Well, he's clearly lying. Because they're definitely flirting."
"I keep telling him to bring her over, but he refuses."
"What's going on?" Dawson asked, joining his teammates.
"My brother is trying to get with the media girl."
"Adelaide? I don't blame him; she's hot."
"We all know she's hot, Mercer. It's just that he's too chicken to actually ask her out."
"Luke, you're supposed to be practicing," Adelaide teased, wiping the ice from her camera lens.
"I was just coming closer so you can get some good shots of me," Luke cheesed.
"I have enough photos of you. Tell your brother to start moving so I can get some of him.
"Oh, I see how it is. You want pictures of Jack, but not me. Should've known. He always gets the girls," he smirked.
Adelaid blushed at Luke's teasing, hiding her face in her hands. She'd be lying if she said she didn't find the rookie cute. He had made her feel welcome since day one, which the media girl thought was strange seeing as Luke was the shyer of the two Hughes boys.
"I didn't say that at all, Luke. Now go practice before you get us both in trouble."
Luke offered her one last smile, before joining the boys in their next drill. He caught Adelaide's eye few more times during practice, but she was busy taking pictures and speaking with her coworkers to pay him much attention. However, he was able to catch her as he was leaving the locker-room.
"Ady! Wait! Do you need a ride home?" he panted.
"Oh, um, I have a ride. Thanks though, Luke."
"Oh, who's your-"
"Babe! Come on!" a man standing near the entrance shouted. Luke felt his heart drop at the other man's words. He had just called the woman that Luke liked "babe." He could have sworn she was flirting back... guess not.
"One second, Matt! I'm just saying goodbye to Luke."
Luke watch the other man, Matt, roll his eyes and cross his arms over his chest. Tapping his foot impatiently as Adelaide turned to the rookie one last time.
"Maybe I'll bum a ride off you and Jack another time. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for the game," she smiled, patting him on the shoulder. Luke watched from afar as Matt interlaced his fingers with Adelaide's, talking to her quickly and quietly.
"Come on, Rusty. Where's Ady? I thought you were offering her a ride?" Jack asked, snapping his brother out his stupor.
"She just left with her... boyfriend?"
"She has a boyfriend? Damn. Could've sworn she was into you. Sorry, bro."
Jack's words just pissed Luke off further. He turned on his heel, storming off to the boys' car.
"Luke, you can't mope around for the rest of the day just because the media girl has a boyfriend. I mean, the whole team thinks she's hot, so I'm not surprised she's taken," Jack tried to cheer up his younger brother.
"You're not helping, Jack."
"Sorry, I'm trying," Jack rolled his eyes.
"Just leave me alone. I'm not in the mood to deal with your dumbass."
"Whatever."
"Matt, it's not like that. He was just being nice."
"Sure, he was, Ady. Because all those horny hockey boys you work with are always just 'being nice.'"
"You're being unreasonable. Luke is new like me. He's just helping me fit in."
"I don't want you talking to him unless it's work related."
"Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Ady sighed, looking down at the floor.
"It's ok, princess. I'm not mad," Matt cooed, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I love you."
"I love you too, Matt," she cracked a small smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.
Adelaide loved Matt. And Matt loved Adelaide. They'd been together for almost a year. He protected her from the guys she worked with, at least that's what he told her. Without Matt she wouldn't be safe. She needed him.
"Alright, have a good game. I'm out tonight with the boys, so make sure you get a ride with... what's her name? Sandra?"
"Sarah, Matt. Her name is Sarah. I've told you that like ten times today," Ady sighed, opening the car door.
"Whatever. Doesn't matter. I'll be out late, so don't wait up." And with that, Matt had driven off. Addy sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. She just needed to get through the game and ask Sarah for a ride home. Easy enough; she'd be fine. And everything would go as planned and-
"Adelaide!"
Her eyes shot up, locking with no other than Jack Hughes'. She looked around as if he'd be calling on someone else, but she was the only person in the room.
"Um, hi, Jack."
"Can I speak with you for a moment?" he begged.
"Yeah, sure. What's up?"
"So, you know my brother Luke?"
"Yeah? We work together?"
"Right, so... he has a HUGE crush on you and I was wondering if-"
"I have a boyfriend."
"Oh. Okay, but-"
"I love my boyfriend."
"But-"
"No 'buts.' This conversation is done. I love Matt."
"Yeah, you said that," Jack furrowed his brow, watching as she sped away to her office. Who was she trying to convince about loving Matt? Jack or herself?
Jack stood there, his mind racing. He watched Adelaide disappear into her office, a part of him still hopeful that maybe there was more to the situation than met the eye. But her words her clear, and it wasn't his place to push any further.
As he walked back to the locker room, he saw Luke waiting by the team's gear. The younger Hughes brother looked like he was trying to shake off a bad mood, but his face was still set in a scowl.
"Hey bro, you alright?" Jack asked, trying his best to sound natural.
Luke shrugged, not meeting his brother's gaze, "Yeah, just... not feeling great."
Jack hesitated before replying, "Look, I know you're bummed about Adelaide. But if she's with Matt and she says she loves him, then... well there's not much you can do."
Luke nodded, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. The team gathered for their pre-game talk, but the tension between the brothers was palpable. Jack glanced over at Luke frequently, wishing he could say something to make things better, but he knew some things were just out of his control.
Meanwhile, Adelaide was back in her office, trying to focus on the game. But the encounter with Jack kept replaying in her mind. She knew Matt could be overprotective, but his jealousy was like a thorn in her side.
As she was preparing to leave for the rink, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Sarah, confirming her ride home. She felt a small sense of relief. At least she wouldn't have to worry about getting home alone.
~~
The game was intense. Adelaide took photos from the sidelines, trying to stay fully focused on her job. But her thoughts just kept drifting back to Luke and her conversation with Jack. She saw Luke on the ice, giving it his all, and she felt a pang of regret.
After the game as the players were filing out, Adelaide was about to leave when Jack approached her again.
"Hey, Ady. Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, his tone softer than before.
"Sure, what's up?" she replied, trying to hide her exhaustion.
"I just wanted to apologize if I pushed too hard earlier. I just thought maybe-"
"I appreciate it, Jack. But it really is just how things are. Matt and I... are committed to each other."
"Yeah, I get that. I just hate seeing my brother like this."
"I understand. It's complicated, and I wish it were easier. But thanks for understanding."
Jack nodded and gave her a small, sympathetic smile, "Alright, well, see you around, Adelaide."
"Bye, Jack."
As she walked out to meet Sarah, she felt a mix of relief and uncertainty. She loved Matt, but the situation with Luke had stirred up emotions she wasn't ready to confront. For now, she needed to get through the night and take things one step at a time.
~~
The days that followed were a blur for Adelaide. Her interactions with Luke were limited to work-related conversations and occasional small talk. She did her best to remain professional, but the chemistry between the two still lingered in her mind.
One evening, after a win against the Rangers, the team was out for drinks to celebrate. Adelaide was there with Sarah, trying to enjoy the night and push away the nagging thoughts of Luke.
Luke, for his part, was trying to keep his distance, but it was clear he was still hung up on Ady. When the group decided to hit up the nearby bar after the game, Adelaide and Sarah were among the last to arrive. And once he saw her in the bar, the alcohol in his system was not going to keep him from talking to her.
"Hey, Ady," he smiled, approaching her and Sarah. "Glad you made it."
"Hi, Luke," she replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and hesitation.
They chatted casually at first, but as the night went on, Adelaide found herself increasingly drawn to Luke. They laughed together, shared stories, and for a brief moment, the complications of her life seemed to melt away. The alcohol added a sense of liberation, and she noticed Luke looking at her with an intensity that made her heart race.
Eventually, the group's conversation grew more rowdy, and Sarah got caught up in chatting with some friends of the team. Adelaide, feeling a bit detached, slipped outside for some fresh air. Luke, quickly noting her absence, followed her.
"Ady, you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
"Yeah, just needed a breather," she said, looking up at the stars. "It's been a long week."
Luke stepped closer, his gaze locking with hers. "You don't have to put on a brave face all the time, you know. It's okay to feel tired and burnt out."
She smiled faintly, "Thanks, Luke. It's just... everything's been a bit overwhelming lately."
Before she could react, Luke reached out and gently touched her arm. The warmth of his hand sent a shiver down her spine. Adelaide looked up, her heart pounding. Luke's gaze was intense, and she could see the vulnerability in his eyes.
In a moment of impulsive recklessness, Adelaide leaned in, and their lips met. The kiss was electric, filled with a mix of desperation and longing. For a moment, all the complications, the guilt, and the responsibilities faded away.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Adelaide's mind was racing, torn between her love for Matt and the undeniable connection she felt with Luke.
"I shouldn't have-" Adelaide started, but Luke gently placed a finger on her lips.
"It's okay," he said softly. "We don't have to figure anything out right now."
She nodded, feeling a rush of confusion and regret. "I need to get back inside."
Luke watched her walk back into the bar, a mix of hope and apprehension in his eyes. He knew that this was just the beginning of a much more complicated situation.
Back inside, Adelaide's heart was heavy as she rejoined Sarah and the group. The guilt of what had just happened weighed on her, but she couldn't ignore the thrill and the intensity of the moment with Luke. As the night went on, she tried her best to act normal, but her mind was consumer by the memory of kissing Luke.
~~
The argument had started over something small- Matt's habit of not cleaning up after himself- but it quickly escalated. Adelaide and Matt were in the kitchen of their apartment, voices raised.
"Seriously, Matt? I've asked you a million times to clean up your dishes!" Ady's frustration was evident, as she slammed a dish into the sink.
"I'm tired of this, Ady!" Mat retorted, his face flushed with anger. "It's not like I'm trying to ignore you. I've been busy with work and-"
"Busy? You're always busy with work, but you can't even make a little effort here?!" she shouted, her hands on her hips. "It's not just about the dishes; it's about the respect!"
Matt threw his hands up in exasperation. "Respect? You think I don't respect you? I work hard so we can have a good life. I'm tired of you always nitpicking!"
"It's not nitpicking, Matthew! It's about being partners in a relationship. I feel like I'm doing everything on my own," her voice trembled.
Matt's face hardened. "Maybe if you were a little more understanding, you'd see how much I'm trying. But no, you're just focused on what I'm not doing."
Her eyes filled with tears, "I'm not asking for perfection. I'm asking for some consideration. I'm tired of feeling like I'm always the bad guy here."
Matt's anger seemed to shift into frustration. "You know what? Maybe we need some space. I can't keep doing this every day."
The harshness in his voice stung, and Adelaide felt her heart sink. "So what? You want to just walk away?"
"No, I'm just saying maybe we need to take a break from fighting all the time. I need to cool off," Matt said, grabbing his jacket. "I'm going out with the guys tonight. Maybe that'll help."
Adelaide watched as he stormed out, the door slamming behind him. She was left standing in the kitchen, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and frustration. The apartment felt cold and empty without him.
With no one else to turn to, Ady grabbed her phone and, in a moment of desperation, texted Luke, asking if she coud come over. Her unresolved emotions driving her to seek comfort elsewhere.
When she arrived at Luke and Jack's apartment, her mind was clouded with the aftermath of the fight. Luke opened the door, his concern clear as day as he saw her tear-stained face.
"Ady, what happened?" Luke asked, pulling her into the apartment.
"I just... needed to get away," she replied, her voice breaking as she sunk into the couch.
Luke sat next to her, "Do you wanna talk about it?"
"I don't even know where to start," she laughed bitterly. "Matt and I had this huge fight. It's like we can't even get along anymore."
As Adelaide opened up about her frustrations, the conversation slowly shifted from comforting to more personal. The tension between the two grew palpable, and before they knew it, their emotions overwhelmed them. The lines between comfort and intimacy were blurred, leading them to kiss passionately.
~~
The next morning, Adelaide woke up with a jolt, her head pounding. She turned to find Luke beside her, a mixture of confusion and guilt washing over her.
"Luke, I... we shouldn't have," Adelaide began, her voice trembling. "This was a mistake."
Luke's face hardened. "A mistake? You think this was just a mistake?"
"Yes," she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "I love Matt. I shouldn't have let this happen."
Luke sat up, frustration evident in his voice. "So, what are you saying? That I'm just some rebound? That this meant nothing?"
"No, it's not like that," she said, reaching for his hand. "It's just-"
"Just what?" Luke snapped, pulling away. "Just that you're confused? Or that you don't know what you want?"
"It's not about you, Luke!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "It's about me and my choices. I'm committed to Matt. I need to figure out what I want."
Luke was seething. "Well, maybe you should've figured it out before coming here. This is exactly what I was afraid of- being used and then thrown away when it's convenient."
Adelaide recoiled, hurt by his words. "I never meant to hurt you."
Luke looked away, frustration and pain written on his face. "I thought we had something real, but now I see I was just a distraction."
"I didn't mean for this to happen," Adelaide said, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."
Luke's expression softened slightly, but it was clear he was still hurt. "I get it. But I need time to process this. I can't just pretend it didn't happen."
"I understand," she replied, her voice just above a whisper. "I need to go."
As she gathered her things, the awkwardness and emotional distance between them was almost tangible. She glanced back at Luke, who stood silently by the door, a mix of anger and sadness in his gaze.
"I'll give you some space. I'm really sorry, Luke."
With that, she left his apartment, the weight of her actions heavy on her shoulders. As she drove away, the gravity of what had happened began to settle in, and she knew that repairing the damage she had caused would be an arduous journey.
~~
Adelaide's hands shook as she gripped the steering wheel, her mind racing with the burden of what had just happened. Her thoughts were a chaotic swirl of guilt and confusion. She took a deep breath as she pulled into the parking garage, trying to steady herself before heading inside.
When she entered the apartment, the living room was dark, the only light coming from the sun filtering through the blinds. Matt was sitting on the couch, his posture tense and his face partially hidden in the shadows.
Her heart sank at the sight of him. "Matt, you didn't stay with the guys," she said, her voice shaky as she closed the door behind her.
Matt's gaze met hers, his eyes sharp and questioning. "Yeah. I decided to come home after all. I've been thinking."
"Oh, um, okay," she replied, trying to keep her composure as she walked further into the room.
Matt stood up and approached her, his expression a mix of concern and irritation. "So where were you? I tried calling, but you didn't answer."
Adelaide's heart raced. "I was out for a bit... I needed some fresh air. It was a rough day, ya know?"
Matt's eyes narrowed. "A bit? You were gone for hours. Did something happen?"
She hesitated, scrambling to come up with a believable excuse. "I just went for a drive to clear my head. Fell asleep in a parking lot. It's been stressful with everything going on."
Matt studied her for a moment, clearly unconvinced but unsure of what to say. "You didn't go see Luke, did you?"
The question hit her like a ton of bricks. She forced a nonchalant laugh, trying to mask her nervousness. "No, of course not. I haven't seen him. Why would you think that?"
His expression softened, but he still looked troubled. "I don't know, I guess I just... I felt like something was off. I didn't want to jump to conclusions."
Ady stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his arm. "Matt, I promise you, nothing happened. I was just out trying to process everything. I needed some space, and I didn't think to tell you because I thought you were also out."
Matt weighed her words, the tension in his shoulder easing. "Okay. I just- I don't want us to keep fighting. I care about you, Ady. I don't want there to be any secrets between us."
"I don't want that either," she said, her voice filled with sincerity she hoped would convince him. "I'm sorry for not being more communicative. I'll do better."
Matt nodded slowly, "Alright. Let's just try to move forward and work on things. I don't want to lose you."
Her heart ached, but she forced a smile. "I don't want to lose you either. We'll figure this out. I love you."
"I love you too."
They embraced, and Adelaide held him tightly, feeling both relief and guilt. As Matt settled back onto the couch, Ady joined him, trying to push away the lingering feelings from the night with Luke.
The weight of her deception was heavy, and as she sat beside Matt, the realization that she was living a lie began to settle in. She knew that maintaining the facade would be difficult, and the consequences of her actions were far from over. For now, though, she focused on keeping up the appearance of normalcy, hoping that time would help heal the rift she had created.
~~
Luke felt like he was in a fog. The events of the previous night and that morning replayed in his mind. He knew he needed to talk to someone, but he wasn't ready to fully disclose what had happened. He decided to seek comfort in his brother, hoping for a little bit of guidance in his situation.
Jack met Luke at the rink, finding his brother sitting alone in the locker room. He approached him, a concerned look on his face.
"Hey, Rusty. You've been awfully quiet this morning. Everything okay?" Jack asked, sitting down beside him.
Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Not really, man. I'm feelin' pretty messed up."
Jack cocked an eyebrow, sensing the seriousness of the situation. "You wanna talk about it or..."
"Sort of. It's... complicated," Luke said, avoiding eye contact. "I had a rough night, and I'm trying to make sense of things, I guess."
Jack frowned, "You sure you don't wanna spill the beans? Sometimes talking helps, ya know?"
Luke hesitated, searching for the right words. "It's not really something I can just talk about. I made some... choices that I'm regretting, and I feel like I've fucked things up, royally."
The older Hughes studied him carefully. "I get it. But you know, if you're feeling like you screwed up, you should at least be able to talk to someone you know won't judge you. I'm your brother, it's what I'm here for."
"Not that simple. I just don't wanna drag you into this. I just need to figure out what to do next."
"Are you like in serious trouble?"
"No, Jack... not serious trouble."
"I don't need to call the cops?"
"No, Jack," he laughed bitterly.
"Alright, well, don't bottle it up. You've got people who care about you, and we're all in this together."
Luke nodded, grateful for Jack’s support but still feeling the weight of his decisions. As they got ready for practice, Luke tried to focus on the task at hand, though his mind was still troubled by the consequences of the previous night.
~~
Adelaide avoided Luke like he was the plague the next few days. She poured herself into work, using the camera as a shield to hide behind her. She kept her interactions with the team strictly professional, but her heart began to ache the first time her eyes met Luke's.
Jack noticed the change in his brother and the photographer. Their friendship had vanished, replaced by a strained silence. One day after pratice, Jack cornered Adelaide in the hallway outside the media room.
"Hey, Ady, got a minute?" he asked, casually leaning against the wall.
"Sure, Jack. What's going on?"
"I noticed that you and Luke have been... off lately. Did something happen?"
Her heart raced, but she forced a large smile. "No, nothing happened. We've just been busy with work and all!"
"Come on, Ady. I know you better than that. You two were inseperable when he started here, and now I don't think I've seen you talk to him in days. Did you guys have an argument or something?"
She sighed, the guilt weighing down her shoulders. "It's complicated. I don't want to get into it."
"Oh. Look, I get it if you don't wanna share. But just know that I'm here if you wanna talk. I care about you, so seeing you both like this is kinda hard."
"Thanks, Jack," her voice barely above a whisper. "Appreciate it."
"See you on the ice!"
"Yup."
God, what had she gotten herself into?
~~
The rink was filled with sounds- the sharp scrape of skates on ice, the hollow thud of the puck hitting the boards, the shouted command of coaches, and the occasional shutter of Adelaide's camera lense. Luke Hughes moved with a ferocity that caught the attention of everyone on the ice. His usual smooth, calculated movements had been replaced by agressiveness. Every stride was powerful, every check delivered with a force that echoed through the arena.
"What's up with Rusty?" Jack muttered to Nico, who was stretching nearby.
Nico followed Jack's gaze. "Not sure, but he's been playing like he's possessed. Did something happen?"
Jack shrugged, keeping his eyes on Luke. "Don't know. He's been... off lately. Keeps to himself a lot more."
As practice continued, Luke's focus remained unbroken. He intercepted passes, delivered bone-rattling checks, and fired shots with pinpoint accuracy. His teammates began to whisper among themselves in the locker room, buzz building about the youngest Hughes.
"Hey, Lukey, what's going on with you?" Nico approached him.
Luke shrugged, "Focusing on my game. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal is that you're playing like you're trying to prove something. Or like you're trying to forget something."
Luke clenched his jaws, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his towel. "Drop it, Nico. I'm just trying to play better."
"Alright, man. But if you need me, I'm here. Don't shut out the team."
Luke didn't respond, instead shoving his gear into his bag with a force that spoke for itself. Whatever was eating at him was serious, and the team feared it would affect more than just his game.
~~
Adelaide was at her desk, her fingers flying against her keyboard as she edited photos from their last game. She was immersing herself in her work, hoping it would distract her from her inner turmoil. She was focusing on her job and spending as much time with Matt as possible.
The door to her office swung open, and Luke stepped inside, his presence immediately filling the small space. Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening at the determined look on his face.
"We need to talk," his voice barely concealing his anger.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Luke, I'm busy right now. Can it wait?"
"No," he said firmly, closing the door behind him. "We're not leaving this room until we sort this out."
"What is there to sort out? We made a mistake, and we need to move on."
"A mistake?" his voice rose. "Is that all it was to you?"
Adelaide flinched at his tone, "It's not that simple, Luke. You know it's not."
"Then make it simple for me," he demanded, stepping closer. "Do you have feelings for me or not?"
She looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze. "It doesn't matter what I feel. I'm with Matt. I've made a commitment to him."
Luke's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "So, you're just going to ignore what's between us? Pretend it doesn't exist?"
"What choice do I have?" she voice shook. "I love Matt. I can't just throw that away because I slept with you one time."
"Is that all you think this is? A fling?" his voice was filled with heart.
Adelaide felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "No, but it can't be more than that. It's too complicated."
Luke took a step back, "You're scared. You're scared to admit that you want something different. That you might actually care about me. That you aren't happy with Matt."
"That's not true," she whispered, her resolve crumbling. "I do care about you, but it's not fair to anyone if I act on it."
"Fair?" Luke scoffed. "Life isn't fair, Adelaide. You can't just ignore your feelings because it's inconvenient."
She shook her head, the tears spilling over. "I'm trying to do the right thing. I can't hurt Matt like this."
"And what about me?" his voice cracked. "Do I not matter?"
"Of course you matter," she cried, reaching out to him. "But I can't do this. I can't be with you."
Luke stared at her a moment, his breathing heavy. Then, without warning, he crossed the distance between them in two quick strides and cupped her face in his hands. Before she could react, his lips were on hers, kissing her with a desperation that took her breath away.
She was stunned at first, but then melted into it, her hands gripping his shirt to ground herself. For a moment, all her feelings of guilt and doubt vanished, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of being with him. Of being with Luke.
But reality crashed back in and she pulled away, panting. "Luke, we can't."
"Don't tell me you didn't feel that. Don't tell me you don't want this."
"I do want it. But I can't. I have to think about Matt. I have to think about everyone else."
Luke's shoulders fell, the fight leaving his body. "Fine. If that's how you feel, I'll back off. But don't expect me to just forget out this. About... us."
Adelaide sat back down, staring blankly at her computer screen. The photos she was supposed to be editing blurred together, her mind far too preoccupied. She sighed, rubbing her temples in a futile attempt to clear her mind. They kiss that they had just shared haunted her, the memory replaying over and over again, making it impossible to do any work.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Matt: "Dinner tonight? Been missing you lately <3"
Guilt twisted her stomach as she typed back her response. "Sure, sounds great. I miss you too."
She hit send and put her phone down. She felt like a fraud. Everything felt tainted by her feelings for Luke. She decided to take a break from working, grabbing her coat and leaving the office. She was craving some fresh air. As she walked, she called Sarah. The one person she knew she could talk to about anything, and right now, she really needed her advice.
"Hey, Ady! What's up?"
"Hey, Sarah. Can you meet up? I really need to talk."
"Of course. How about the coffee shop near the area in fifteen?"
"Perfect. See you soon."
Adelaide arrived quickly and ordered herself a latte. When Sarah walked in, she felt a wave of relief. Sarah took one good look at her and knew something was wrong.
"What's going on, Ads?"
"I've messed up, Sarah. Big time."
Sarah reached across the table and held her hand. "Tell me everything."
Over the next hour, Adelaide spilled her guts to her confidante. Telling Sarah all about her feelings for Luke, the kiss, the night they spent together, and the guilt that was tearing her apart.
"Ady, it sounds like you're in a really tough spot. But you have to honest with yourself and with Matt. This isn't fair to anyone, especially not to you."
"I know. But I don't know how to choose. I care about them both so much."
"Maybe you need some time to figure things out. Take a step back, give yourself some space to think about what you really want."
"You're right I just need to clear my head. Thanks, Sar."
"No worries, Ads. That's what I'm here for."
~~
"Luke, we need to talk."
"Not now, Jack," Luke muttered, not even looking away from the TV.
"Yeah, now," Jack insisted. "You've been acting insane. What's going on?"
"I can't, Jack. Just... drop it."
"Nope. Not happening," Jack sat next to him, turning off the TV. "Whatever this is, it's eating you alive. Talk to me."
Luke's frustration boiled over. "It's Adelaide, alright? We... we kissed. We... slept together. And then things got out of hand."
"You and Adelaide? Seriously?" Jack's eyes widened in shock.
"She said it was a mistake, that she loves Matt. But... I can't get her out of my head."
"Holy shit, Luke. That's... a lot. But you can't keep it bottled up. It's tearing you apart."
"I know... but I don't know what to do."
"Look, you need to talk to her. Clear the air. This tension is gonna kill ya both. And if she really loves Matt, you need to try to respect that and move on."
"Yeah. I know. But it's so damn hard."
"I get it, bro. But just take it one step at a time. And remember I'm here for you. Even when you royally fuck up like this."
~~
That evening when Adelaide walked in the door, she could already feel Matt's anger. He was pacing back and forth in the living room.
"Adelaide. We need to talk," his voice was taut with anger.
"What about, Matt?"
"About us! About how distant you've been. It's like you're here, but you're not really here," he snapped, his eyes searching hers for an explanation.
"I've been under a lot of pressure with work. You know that."
"This isn't just about work, Ady! You've been avoiding me. We barely talk anymore, and when we do, it's about the team or the game. When was the last time we slept together? When was the last time you were focused on us? What happened to us?"
She felt a pang of guilt, but also a rush of anger. "Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with your career, we wouldn't be having this problem! You're never around, Matt. And when you are, you don't speak to me!"
"That's not fair. You knew how important work was to me when we got together. I thought you supported me."
"I do support you, but I can't be the only one making sacrifices. This is a partnership, not a one-way street."
"A partnership? That's rich coming from you! You used to be my biggest cheerleader, and now I don't even recognize you!"
"Maybe I changed because you never made me feel like I mattered!" she spat back. "It's always been about you and your career, your dreams. What about mine, Matt? What about mine?"
"I never stopped you from chasing your dreams! You can't just blame all our problems on me! You made choices too."
Ady tried her best to think of a response, but Matt continued before she could.
"I can't do this anymore, Ady. I don't even know who you are anymore," his voice breaking with resignation.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe we both need to figure out what we really want," she looked down at her feet.
"I thought we wanted the same thing. But I guess not. Maybe we've grown too far apart."
"I wish things were different, Matthew. I really do."
"Yeah, me too."
For a moment, it seemed like they were about to part ways without another word. But then Adelaide made a gut-wrenching decision. "Matt, there's something I need to tell you. I.... I cheated on you. With Luke."
The confession hit Matt like a punch to the gut. His eyes widened with shock, then narrowed with rage. "What did you just say?"
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. It was a mistake-"
"A mistake?" Matt exploded. "You think that's just a mistake? You've been lying to me, hiding things from me while I thought we were trying to fix things!"
Adelaide tried to reach out to him, but he stepped back, his anger turning into something darker. "I didn't want to hurt you. I was confused, and I made a terrible choice."
His face turned red with fury, "You've betrayed me, Adelaide. You've crossed a line. I can't just let this go. You've been living a lie while I've been trying to make thing work."
"I'm so sorry, Matt. Just let me explain."
"No!" his voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls. "I don't want to hear it. You've shattered everything we had. I'm done. I can't even look at you right now."
~~
Adelaide sat in her dimly lit apartment, feeling the weight of the last few days pressing down on her. The space felt unusually empty, and the silence was almost deafening. She had spent the entire day reflecting on everything that had transpired and was now preparing for an important conversation.
Her phone buzzed, signaling Luke's arrival. She took a deep breath and went to open the door.
Luke stood there, his expression a mixture of resolve and concern. "Hey," he said softly as he stepped inside.
"Hey," Adelaide replied, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "Thanks for coming over."
They moved to the living room, sitting across from each other. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words. Adelaide broke the silence first.
"I wanted to talk about everything that's happened. I know I've hurt you. And I've hurt Matt. And I need to take responsibility for that."
Luke nodded, his gaze was steady but pained. "I appreciate you saying that. I was hurt, and it's been hard trying to understand like... why everything went down the way it did."
"I never meant to hurt you. I was confused. Stuck in a relationship that had been loveless for a while. I was avoiding issues instead of talking about them."
"I get that. I was confused too. We both made mistakes, but we can acknowledge that."
"I think... no, I know that I want to be with you, Luke. I just... can we take things slow? Like super slow? I think I need to process everything that just happened," she giggled lowly.
"Yeah, of course. I'd like that a lot, Ady. Let's take this one day at a time.
"Sounds perfect."
Luke smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Now, why don't you tell me why I'm your favourite Hughes brother," he smirked.
She rolled her eyes, "If I must..."
288 notes
·
View notes
Text
HONEY POT. PJM / KTH / M!READER
summary. there's something wrong with the popular kids at this small-town high school. something deeply, viscerally, hauntingly wrong...
wc. 8.8k
tags. smut | top!reader, bottom!tae, switch!jimin, jimin in skirts and heels, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, biting, spitroasting, brief daddy kink (r. receiving), gratuitous blood/gore, blood as lube (from another wound), cultism & religious fervour, cannibalism, murder
note. happy halloween!! i began this in early august to be on time, but uh, we know how that turned out :')
"—and i was like, no, that isn't how this works! i'm literally the best he's ever had, why would he ever wanna break up with me? i even bought him that stupid walkman he kept whining about and he still went and cheated on me and then tried to dump me. me! how could he?"
"well, he was already on his way to being a forty-year-old junkie who lives in a trailer park and hates life. he could've had so much with you. he'll realise how much he messed up – he'll get his karma."
"i know, i know... you're right. i just wish he could've been nicer. could've saved us both the trouble."
jimin lifts his soft dark eyes from his pink handheld mirror. he smacks his glossy lips and shuts the mirror with a clack, crossing his legs the other way and leaning back against the steps of the steel bleachers. he glances up at taehyung, who sits one step above him.
dressed in a cropped, pale pink shirt and blue jeans, taehyung fans his hot face with chunky rings on each finger, eyes lifted to the sky in a futile effort to hold back tears. jimin had already helped him redo his makeup in the bathroom, and this wasn't the first time taehyung had cried over a boy. poor thing just had too big of a heart – he wasn't made for modern boys and their vices.
jimin sucks on his teeth and sighs, turning forwards to lord over the verdant grassy field, where the senior boys are engaged in tryouts for college football teams. "don't worry, honey. we'll find the right one for you eventually. maybe try an athlete? the artsy ones are always such snobs."
"oh, they aren't all that bad, really," taehyung mumbles, patting the corners of his damp eyes lightly. "anyway, they all want you, not me. they're not into anyone who isn't a cheerleader."
"you're being silly. they just don't think you're interested – you keep rejecting them." jimin scours the field, tucking his dark hair behind his ear. a diamond stud flashes under the sun. he reaches out and touches taehyung's knee, leaning in for secrecy he doesn't need. "how about that one?"
"he called me a sour bitch. no."
"and that one?"
"he made me do all the work on a paired project and took my ninety-eight for himself. no."
jimin purses his lips, eyes flickering between their faces, warm and shining under the sun. all around, they looked quite similar – all fairly muscular, with the same lazy grins. not bad for eye-candy, he supposes, but taehyung is a romantic, which is how anyone he dates manages to bury themselves so deeply in his heart.
motion by the changing rooms on the other side of the field. jimin's eyes flick over naturally, and they widen.
strong, handsome, and, most importantly, taehyung is already looking at him.
he keeps his watchful gaze discreet, following the figure as he crosses the field and joins the coach to speak with him briefly. he is handed a football, which he tosses and spins in his hands a few times, and the coach gathers a few lounging boys to help out.
they spread out, and the tryout begins.
jimin isn't an expert on the game, only knows the basics, but he knows how to read a man – and the coach is clearly impressed by what he sees. jimin observes quietly, crossing his legs and uncrossing them, as he runs circles around the rest of the boys, leaving them far in the dust.
at last, when the boys are huffing and puffing with their hands on their heads and the cute one takes his time wandering back to the coach – after meeting jimin's eyes for a quick, sparkling second – jimin turns his head in taehyung's direction.
"what about... that one?"
taehyung huffs, pressing his knees together and resting his elbows on them. jimin doesn't mention how his gaze flicks to his shoes before meeting jimin's, almost as if he didn't want to be caught looking. he gives the footballer a once-over, then inspects his nails. "too tall."
jimin watches him push back his cuticles with his thumbnail, those thick dark lashes brushing his fine cheekbones. his prettiness makes him a honeypot for invariably bad people, and though jimin feels for him, he can't say he wants him to stop trying. everyone has their place in the world – even cheaters and liars. taehyung's relationships make it easier to weed them out for proper atonement.
"are you sure?" jimin asks carefully, tilting his head. "he looks like just your type."
"i don't have a type," taehyung sighs. "if i did, it'd make finding people that much harder."
eventually, jimin hums, and turns away to watch the tryouts.
out of sight, taehyung's shoulders slump slightly, and he exhales shakily. he nibbles on the edge of his nail as his eyes follow a figure lifting a water bottle to his lips. his sweat-shining throat bobs as he swallows rapidly, and a trickle of water escapes from the corner of his lips; it trails down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. he wipes it away without much thought. taehyung presses his thighs together.
suddenly, jimin turns back to him, propping his chin on his palm. his eyes are big and innocent as he asks, "hey, tae? you know that ex we were talking about earlier? i want his address."
"o-oh, um – just to make him sorry, right?"
"yeah. he will be."
taehyung swallows. "yes. okay. is it bad that i feel... that i pity him?"
jimin giggles, sweet and high like a bell. he squeezes taehyung's knee. "you're my best friend. i'm not going to let anyone get away with hurting you. you know that."
"mhm, i know. just make sure nobody sees you, alright? i don't want you getting in trouble for vandalism or something."
"oh, my charges would definitely include more than petty vandalism, but you know me – i cannot be caged!" he jumps to his feet and stretches high above his head, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of pure, unblemished skin. the way he scrunches his nose slightly makes taehyung's heart flutter.
he exhales softly as his neck cracks, and he flashes taehyung a quick smile as he packs up his pin-studded messenger bag and slings it over his shoulder. "you can give me his address after school, but don't leave it too late. don't forget about the curfew. i have to go for now, but you make sure you take care of yourself, okay? if you feel too sad to study, i'm sure my mother would let you go home early if you asked."
taehyung hums and nods, leaning forward on the bench as jimin skips down the bleachers until his ivory pumps make a satisfying clack on the concrete base. "your nepo-baby status is really helpful sometimes, y'know?"
jimin beams, his eyes crinkling to crescents. "i know! see you around, honey. love you!"
"love you," taehyung echoes, and watches him go. his all-white outfit makes him as bright as the moon, and just as breathtaking. effortlessly, he carves a path through the crowds like moses and the red sea, perfectly oblivious to the power he wields over them all.
taehyung sighs and turns back to watch the tryouts, and that one special player right in the middle. just as he wishes you'd come and cheer him up, you glance over, grass stains on your shorts and a new bruise on your knee. as you meet his gaze, the biggest grin splits your face. you wave with your whole arm and taehyung giggles to himself, hiding his warm cheeks behind his knuckles as he lifts one shy hand.
his heart races. for you, he'll keep up this masquerade. this was a dangerous neck of the woods, and he wouldn't let anything steal you away – not even jimin.
he's waiting patiently for you at the edge of the field when you finally manage to break off from your mates. his slim fingers dance lightly over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. as quickly as his touch arrives, it vanishes, his arms once more wrapped around his body like a hug.
"hey," he greets softly.
"hey yourself," you reply, amusement light on your tongue. "i saw you earlier. i hope you didn't get bored watching me chase after a ball like a dog."
he huffs. "what are you saying? dogs are cute. you were cute. i like seeing you bound across the field – you make for some especially tasty eye-candy, sweating and panting like that."
"do i, now?" you say playfully, leaning against the steel fence. he leans in too, matching your smile with a pretty, half-bitten one of his own. his lashes flutter as you tease a kiss, the tip of your nose brushing his cheek. "next thing i know, you'll be begging to lick me up."
he clicks his tongue, turning away from your almost-kiss in half-assed defiance. "tch. here i am, trying to be sweet, and you ruin it all. boys like you have only one thing on their minds."
"hey, you started it! besides, are you telling me you wouldn't wanna taste of my lollipop?" you smirk, gazing at his side profile. he's drop dead gorgeous, all full lips and big eyes, and you could easily while away your days doing nothing but admiring the symmetry of his features.
taehyung rolls his eyes, but there's no heat to it. he sniffs. "you wish. you wouldn't last long enough to enjoy the view."
you place a hand over your heart. "careful, pretty boy, or you and your mean insults could remain part of me for a long, long time. words hurt, you know?"
"what do i have to be careful for? you like me too much to do any lasting damage to me. it's nice, really. nice to know you love me – in your own, silly little way." he pokes your chest, and you catch his hand in yours and lift his knuckles to your lips. the ghost of a kiss shivers over his skin.
"silly?" you parrot, returning his hand to him with a knowing look. you rest your hip against the top of the chain-link fence, casting a glance casually over the field. "you think my acts of love are silly?"
taehyung hums, leaning over and grasping your chin. he turns your face towards him. "'sweet', then – that's probably a better word for it. none of my exes ever did what you do for me. not even close. i'm sorry, baby – please don't pout."
"i'm glaring, actually," you huff. "this is my glaring face."
"don't, you'll get wrinkles," taehyung chides. he glances around, and swiftly, like a little bird, flits up on his toes to press his lips against your cheek. in the blink of an eye, he settles back into place on his side of the fence. he sighs, and a sudden weight slumps his shoulders. you straighten, turning towards him properly.
"he noticed you," he says, his voice lower than usual. "pointed you out to me as a potential boyfriend."
the smile you were wearing drops like a stone. "he did?"
taehyung doesn't trust himself to speak; he nods instead, staring at his shoes.
"well," you say, at a loss for words. "i mean, he's tiny. what's he gonna do to me?"
his head snaps up and the intensity of his gaze catches you off-guard. "don't underestimate him. you can't. he – he can do more than hurt you. he'll ruin you.
"no, no – don't roll your eyes," he snaps. "i know, i sound paranoid, but you haven't even been here for six months. you haven't seen what i've seen." his focus flickers to your surroundings, and he seems uncomfortable even when he leans in to whisper. "please. keep away from him, don't tell anyone about us, and for the love of god, stop visiting my house after curfew. he's whip-smart – he notices it once, he'll catch on like that." he snaps his fingers. "also, we have a change of plans. mark's off the table – jimin wants him."
at that, the corners of your mouth turn down. you cross your arms. "not if i get there first."
"baby – baby, look at me. you can't risk it."
"fuck," you hiss between your teeth. you clear your throat and wipe the expression off your face, flawless neutrality taking its place. it still simmers under your skin, but it's always easier to sweep something under the rug than clean it up. "fine. i can bring a friend over tonight instead. it'll be easy enough – these sheep will follow me anywhere. we can... have him for dinner."
taehyung's eyes glimmer, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. the worry's sloughed off his shoulders for now, and that's as good as you can hope. "i've always loved your lamb steaks. i've been waiting for this – for you. i'll be at yours by seven sharp."
"wear your pretty clothes," you hum almost offhandedly as you survey your fellow students. there's not a care in the world in those empty heads. "something black – and sexy."
taehyung flicks his bangs out of his eyes. "everything i wear is sexy. you'd do well to remember that."
"yes, dear."
—
his hands shake. that oil-heat, sweat-sheen, bone-crunch. his breath rattles through his lungs like the tongue of a too-small bell.
the weight of the kitchen knife in his hand is too much – he lifts it, and it tilts forward dangerously, trembling in his red-wet palm. the silver glimmers and flickers under the yellow shed lights.
a warmth behind him, a sturdy presence – tender hands slide down his arms, tracing him from collarbone to wrist like a delicate porcelain doll. they fold around his slim fingers, big scarred knuckles too worn to be a boxer's – they wear gloves for protection.
"split the skin shallow, so you don't pierce the meat," you murmur, your breath hot against his ear. you guide his hands with your own, slowly pressing down until the pop of released pressure signifies the beginning of the cut. "all the way down, just like that... good. you slip the knife under the skin and peel it back, making a scything or slicing motion to cut the membrane. long, slow strokes to control the angle of the blade. you want the meat nice and lean."
the night is still and silent outside, not a cricket or dog to be heard. the rushing of taehyung's pulse is loud enough for them all. he can feel your excitement against him – the quickened breathing, the thudding heart, the hitched gasp when his grip tightens on the knife and steadies.
"perfect," you croon in his ear, an undercurrent of a growl echoing beneath your words. "take your time. i want your first time to be..."
you shift against him, and he feels something prod his backside. he bites down on the inside of his cheek to silence himself and takes a deep, shaky breath, pressing down with the knife. sinew and muscle part easily under the sharpened blade.
"it's easier," he whispers, barely a breath, "than i thought it would be."
"you're doing very well, but remember, i'm guiding you. you won't find a better person to teach you."
your hands are big and knowledgeable over his own, each arc of the knife steady and precise. the blood warms his skin up to the knuckles, but it pales in comparison to your own, smeared up past your wrists in a deep ruby red. a bucket by the leg of the table is full of gore, intestines wrapped around a bladder and stomach and hacked-off chunks of fat. it was a job too bloody and slippery to give to your pretty shrike.
"this will be your steak," you hum, stroking the heavy, lick-wet cut of meat almost reverentially. you press your lips to his shoulder, then to his temple. he can feel your smile against his skin. "perfect knifework. it's almost as if you've done it before."
"well, it's like you said," taehyung breathes, gently placing it in the metal bowl at the top of the table. a secondary bowl beside it is already filled with some lesser cuts of meat, which you'd done to kill time before his arrival. "there's no better person to teach me."
he turns around in your arms, carefully linking his bloodied fingers behind your head. he noses your jaw, his lips brushing over yours. the strappy black top he wears clings to him like a second skin, and the gap between it and the top of his pants reveals his toned stomach, flexing now as he presses his hips against your thigh. he whines softly as you knock his knees apart and slide your leg between his with a teasing grin.
"no need to play coy, beautiful," you purr, digging your palms into the edge of the table. "if you want it, just ask."
"but where's the fun in that?" he gasps as you nip the soft skin of his neck, canines making reds and purples bloom across his sun-kissed skin. "o-oh – y-you know you shouldn't do that, baby. not so high."
with a furrowed brow, you growl softly, slowly rocking your thigh against him. "rules, rules, rules... why does he dictate your life like this? scared of being tossed aside?"
taehyung shakes his head, his head falling back with a moan. for someone who doesn't like being marked up, he sure does make it easy. he exhales as your breath trails up his throat and over his jaw. "he's not. he doesn't."
"yet you pretend as if we've never met when he's around, and you don't say anything when he forbids you from working with your hands. he thinks you should stay clean and pretty because he likes it that way. he holds you back, and you let him."
you punctuate your words with a fist around his throat, slowly pressing in. the flush that'd dusted his chest and neck while working the knife spreads to the apples of his cheeks, sweet and shy. his breath catches, and he looks up at you through the dark forest of his lashes.
you can almost understand jimin's rules. someone as beautiful as him shouldn't need to mar his skin with stains and calluses. that he still desires it – desires to delve deep into the marrow of mortality, watch it squeeze out between his knuckles – turns your stomach, in sickness or adoration.
"i'm sorry," taehyung nearly whimpers, panting short and shallow as his blood-slick hands scramble at your shoulders and chest. his eyes are black with lust and his pulse throbs under your fingers. "i know. i just don't want to upset him. i care about him."
you don't look away when you grab one of his hands, resting over your heart. you lift his knuckles to your lips and, under the heavy haze of hunger, he watches as you wrap your lips around two of his fingers. your cheeks hollow, and your tongue swirls slowly around each joint, as if savouring more than the iron taste.
he swallows thickly as the hand around his throat shifts, less to choke and more to pull close. his heartbeat thuds at the back of his throat.
pinned between your body and the table, the tiny shed door locked behind you, he realises suddenly what it must feel like to be your prey. you have a visceral animal strength about you, muscles like steel cable wound tight, always on the brink of snapping. only the patience of a tiger in wait keeps the mask from slipping, breaking.
your canines graze his finger, held firm in the heat of your mouth. the look in your eye says it wouldn't take much to release that perfectly wound tension, to let the slick nubs of your teeth open him up.
the look in his eyes invites you to.
eventually, you pull away, a satisfied smile splitting your face. you crush your lips against his, nicking his lower lip, and he moans at the warm iron flooding his mouth. greedily, your tongue laps at the stinging cut.
"fuckin' perfect," you husk, gaze flickering down to the red smeared over his throat and jaw, then further down to the obvious bulge in his pants. you snicker. "hm. need help with that?"
"please." he reaches down, as if to undo the buttons right there and then.
you grab his wrists and tut. "sweetheart, not over our dinner. you know better than that."
he groans. "it's your fault for driving me crazy!"
in response, you just laugh and grab the bowls of steaks. it's a surprisingly light sound even though you were ready to eat him up mere moments ago. "come on, then. we've got all the good cuts already. head in and put these in the fridge; i'll deal with the carcass. i'll be quick, i promise."
"you better be," he mutters, loosening the latch on the door. "i'll kill you otherwise."
when you open the door to your bedroom, halfway through drying your hands on a tea towel, you are greeted by the sight of an angel on your bed, long slender legs spread just for you. you toss the towel onto a nearby chair and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. you let out a slow, appreciative wolf whistle, smirking when taehyung's eyes snap open and he bolts upright. he relaxes at the sight of you, one hand already slipping back between his thighs.
"you're not much of a gentleman, leaving me alone to entertain myself. you have to make it up to me."
"demanding little thing." you click your tongue, leaving the door open and approaching him on the bed. he leans back against the piled-up pillows, sighing softly as his fingers slip back inside himself. they do so with whorish ease, and the smoky darkness of his gaze is smug.
a challenge, then? you can do that.
your fingers glide over the back of a chair, slow and thoughtful. you drag it to the end of the bed and straighten it to face him. he shivers slightly in the warm night as you take a seat, leaning back and spreading your knees. one hand rests casually on your leg and the other props itself up on the armrest, curled in a loose fist.
he pulls his fingers out slightly. you snicker at the confusion in his flickering gaze. "what are you getting up for? i was just getting comfy."
"i—" he falters. almost indifferently, his fingers glide in and out of himself, keeping himself hard while he gathers his thoughts. "but you promised you'd fuck me tonight... killing always did rile you up, red-blooded beast that you are."
"beast?" you parrot, exaggerating a pout. "aw – and here i was, thinkin' i was more than an impressive cock to you." you run your thumb over your nails, your eyes flicking to his open legs and sticking there as he pulls his fingers out to pump his dick twice, thrice. his hand travels back down. "no. i promised no such thing. after all, you've got a date with your pretty boy tomorrow, yeah? don't want him wondering why you're so loose for him, do you?"
he whimpers softly at the mention of it. his fingers dig deeper inside him, upping the pace, and his cock pulses with need. "n-no... i-i mean, i could just say i got a bigger toy..."
"oh, no, sweetheart – if you like a man, never tell them your toy is bigger than them. 'specially them rich types. they bruise easily." you sigh softly, thumb gliding over the edge of your jawline. his twitching cock blushes under the hunger of your gaze and his hole clenches. "you'll just have to wait it out. patiently."
"but i want you." he gasps, the wet squelch of lube making everything ten times dirtier. his breath quickens and he adds a third finger, shuddering at the stretch. "ah– baby, please, i've already been doing this for ages—"
"i didn't ask you to."
"your fingers are thicker than mine," he whines, eyes growing big and ever-so-slightly teary. he's good, you'll give him that. the slight lip tremble, the shaky breaths. you could make him cry properly. he's always been a pretty crier. you wonder if his eyeliner will run.
he sinks his fingers in until the knuckle and he moans, bucking onto his fingers. "god, won't you just fuck me already? why touch yourself when you can touch me? i can see how hard you are!"
you lift your hand off the bulge in your jeans and undo your belt teasingly, thoughtfully – as if you might take him up on that tasty, tasty offer. you lean back in the chair and exhale softly as you free yourself from the confines of your underwear. your cock taps your stomach and taehyung keens, unable to tear his eyes off of it as you wrap your hand around its base, stroking shallowly.
"w-wait," he gasps, beginning to pull his fingers out, "wait, i wanna – let me—"
"no," you say sharply, movements halting. "sit back. i didn't tell you to stop."
"but i can—"
"taehyung."
he quietens, chastened but obedient. he gnaws on his lower lip as his hand returns to its rightful place. he quivers as he watches your palm smooth over your tip and slide back down, precome bubbling from the slit. he can feel his own smearing over his bare stomach, hotter than his warm skin.
instinct takes over. over and over. over and over.
he's such a good boy for you – he's wasted on a creature like jimin. then again, are you really better than him? just the same, you've denied him his basest needs. to part flesh with steel, impart bliss with lust – you've just dropped one piece of control for another.
no. you can be better. you are better.
taehyung gasps sharply as you all but lunge at him, pinning him to the bed by his throat. his golden hair haloes him on the crumpled white blankets, like a gilded apollo so gently posed against marble. he blinks slowly up at you, eyes soft with worship and dark with desire, and kisses the thumb tracing the cupid's bow of his lips, a hand curled around your wrist. the other reaches for you.
you groan softly as he pumps your cock, twisting his wrist expertly. your belt buckle clinks and he giggles, eagerly reciprocating your greed. he hooks his legs loosely around your thighs.
"and you were the one preaching patience," he hums as you lean away to tug your shirt over your head. it gets tossed into a corner without so much as a glance and taehyung flushes at the view, half-lidded gaze raking every inch of revealed skin like a man starved. "oh..."
"how many times have you seen me shirtless?"
"not enough." he grabs your hand and pulls you into him, his hands locking behind your head and tugging you into a heated kiss. "you're also not bloody enough for my liking."
without waiting for a response, his teeth clamp down in the junction between your neck and shoulder, where the meat is soft and muscle is taut.
pain blooms like a shard of ice, sudden and sharp. a decisive movement, it left no room for bruising. taehyung groans, guttural, and digs his teeth in deeper, if only to keep the wound open for longer. his fingernails print stinging crescents into your biceps and he whimpers, eyes rolling back, as you shove his head into your neck, forcing the blood down his throat.
melting heat and iron, the sharp tang dissolving into sweetness – his tongue laps at the oozing wound, the arc of his teeth imprinted forever into your skin until the white of your bones will gleam under the midday sun.
when you allow him to pull away, his eyes are black, dazed and blissful. he smiles from ear to ear, teeth red and stained down the chin and throat, and crushes his lips against yours, tangling your hair in his grip and moaning sinfully loudly. his cock throbs, crushed between your bodies, and he bucks against your shaft, the vein on the underside catching against the ridge of your tip with a shuddering bolt of pleasure.
"i'm yours! i'm yours, all yours," he whispers fervently, obsessively. his tongue swipes over his lower lip, the oily heat marking him just like a sheep bloodying the muzzle of a wolf.
he smiles. he laughs. he presses your foreheads together, his stomach slick with his orgasm, and kisses you again, this time sitting upright in your arms.
"you're good to me. so, so good to me." he leaves the print of his lips against your throat and jaw like a jealous girlfriend, your own blood a perfect valentines' red. "fuck me – please? or i could suck you off, if you're still worried about tomor—oh!"
you flip him over and pull his hips towards you, slotted perfectly between your thighs. his own shine with excess lube and you push your cock between his plush thighs, thrusting impatiently to coat it. over his shoulder, he watches, wide-eyed, as you drag a few fingers up your chest towards your shoulder – towards the red bite mark leaking down your chest.
you smear the blood on your cock. taehyung's core throbs – his back arches. he nearly screams as you yank him onto your cock, burying yourself hilt-deep in not-enough thrusts. his mouth falls open as the burn sears its way up his spine and caresses his brain. he swears he can feel you in his throat.
"fuck! fu-fuck," he burbles, crying out as you set a steady pace, your hips slapping against his ass. you push his knees together with your own and his eyes show their whites, mouth open in a perpetual moan. he buries the chants into the pillow, staining it with blood, and his knuckles whiten around fistfuls of blanket as your cock scrapes his insides so deliciously, stabbing and thudding against his prostate. "fuck, oh my god, fuckfuckfuck—!"
you click your tongue, gaze glued to the point where you meet. "you've got a mouth on you, haven't ya? should fuck you until you forget how to talk. that'll clean you right up, nice and ready for your little boytoy. would you like that, sweetheart?"
"fuck, daddy, please, yes please," he whines, letting the pillow swallow the rest of his sounds. the ricochet of skin on skin echoes loudly in the cosy bedroom, and his cock throbs as it swings between his creamy thighs. shit, you could watch the ripple of his ass until the day you died, and none of it would be wasted time. you're beginning to suspect he has a stronger hold on you than you thought.
your shoulder stings like a bolt of clarity and you growl, grabbing and pulling his hips to meet your thrusts. he whimpers at the sound. "what an obedient pup. a little eager, but i s'pose that's normal, given that tonight was your first time." you huff and slap his thigh, making him yowl and his hips jerk. "wasted, you are. such steady hands. i could use someone like you."
"y-yes, yes, use me – ah, ah – love being used! mmn—!"
"not quite what i was saying, but i'll let it slide." you slam your hips into him and he chokes on it, letting his head falls limply to the pillow. he hasn't felt your cock in so, so long – he can't believe he'd almost forgotten how good it felt, how it filled him up just right to knock his brains out. you gripped him so tightly, too, as if he might get up and leave at any time – but you should know by now that he'll always be the one running back to you, that sick glint in your eye only making him swoon harder.
you had a few bad habits, sure. a few dark fantasies. but so did taehyung. and now he had your blood in him – your essence, the purest part of you – which could never be taken away, even if the elders found out about your relationship. they could take you, but not the part of you that you'd planted deep inside him. they'd never be able to dig it all out. you were a rot to their perfectly-tended garden, and taehyung wouldn't let you be cut out so easily – not when you were so sweet on the tongue.
he licks his lips, the faint taste of what remains fluttering his heart. he'd been careless with his moans, the cries of your name like a prayer. he found so many little deaths with you, and the best ones came screaming.
suddenly, emptiness – you pull away, hand slipping out of his. you halt, stiller than the dead.
hoarsely, taehyung whispers your name, a whine on the tip of his tongue. "n-no... so close, was so close, please..." he turns around.
his heart drops like a stone.
"hello," says jimin, in a voice like silk.
"baby, put the knife down," taehyung stammers, all pleasure doused by the sight of that too-big blade pressed up against your throat. "don't."
"why should i?" he adjusts it, nicking a fine pink line beneath your ear. red beads along it like a string of pearls. "he's a killer. he must be cleansed, same as the rest."
unconsciously, taehyung wipes his mouth, as if your influence on him could be removed so easily. he can still feel the heat of it pulsing against his lips. "but he's mine."
you roll your eyes, hands open and half-raised. of all the things he could've said...
yet, it seems to give him pause. the kitchen knife almost loosens – almost. he tugs your hair roughly, punishingly, and you grunt as the blade whispers against your skin. you have half a mind to teach him a bloody hard lesson, but taehyung might not like that.
"wait!" taehyung darts forward, hand outstretched. he slumps on the bed in front of jimin, gripping the sheets. "how – how did you find us?"
"i followed your ex," jimin replies, observing the wet blood painting half of your chest. the red against your skin is rather pretty... and it's in the shape of taehyung's teeth. "this mark is good at covering his tracks. not so much for those of others."
taehyung's eyes widen. no. you promised to stay away from his ex! then again, he never did see the face of the meat he was cutting up... and you weren't one to be one-upped by the likes of jimin.
"he's not a mark," he pleads, "not officially. he could join us! how many people has he already killed? how long did it take for you to realise? you only found him because he was too rash with this one."
jimin's eyes narrow. "all that tells me is that he grew cocky and let his guard down."
"the mark was cruel to me. he did it for me," taehyung implores, his eyes earnest. "he loves me. and i love him. put down the knife. initiate him."
you frown. initiate?
for a long time, jimin says nothing. he doesn't move.
he lifts the knife. taehyung's eyes widen.
he raises his hands in surrender. he huffs and crosses his arms, drumming his fingers against his arm as he cocks a hip. his skirt and knitted vest give him the impression of a private-school kid, although the short sleeves of the dress shirt seem a touch too tight to be unaltered. he wears a shiny pair of tall, heeled mary janes, but you hadn't heard him until the knife was at your throat. odd.
"fine," he drawls, eyeing you with a slight curl to his upper lip. "you have two minutes to convince me. you're so lucky i like you, tae. wh—i mean, why do you even care? you said he wasn't your type."
"well," he searches carefully for the right words, "things change. and he fucks me the way i like it. you can't tell that from a glance."
jimin's gaze strays briefly downwards, over the shine of blood and flexing muscle. you're still hard, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your lips twitch up into a smirk. you adjust your undone jeans and cross your arms.
eventually, jimin steps closer, reaching out curiously to prod at the bite mark. ruby red oozes, and he watches closely as your eyes flutter briefly shut. his tongue glides over his glossy lower lip. "hm... but he's still a killer. i don't know what makes him more useful to me alive."
it's as if a lightbulb flashes over taehyung's head.
he leans forward, resting a hand on your thigh. he tilts his head against your hip. "maybe you can... try him. see from my perspective."
"i'm not getting on my knees," jimin scowls immediately, "not for a sinner."
"but you don't mind it when i do?"
jimin opens his mouth. he closes it. he throws his hands in the air, knife waving around carelessly. "we're not the same! i'm already doing you a kindness by letting him live this long. i should be flaying him right now for tainting your body with his filth. you're supposed to be pure. unsullied."
"pure?" you repeat, scoffing. you can only stay quiet for so long. "oh, you lot are crazy-crazy. worse than me."
his eyes narrow and his knuckles whiten on the knife handle. taehyung shoves himself between you, gripping your hand in his own. "no! stop it, both of you! if you kill each other, who's gonna take care of me? i'm still hard."
he's the perfect height for you. you prop your chin on his shoulder with a lazy grin, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. you play with his cock, making his breath stutter. "you're right as always, sweetheart... how cruel is he for cockblocking you? you deserve everything in the world and more..."
jimin's fingers twitch. taehyung bucks shallowly against you, but you keep him firmly in place as you stroke his cock, already sensitive. you kiss his neck. you haven't taken your eyes off of jimin.
he presses his thighs together as taehyung lets out a soft whimper.
"come on, sweet thing," you croon into his ear, cupping his chest and grazing his nipple. "don't you want my cock?"
gulping, he tries not to show how affected he is by the hardness pressing against his ass. "a-ah, um..."
"what was that?" you flick your wrist roughly and taehyung's eyes shoot open. blood fills his mouth from a bitten cut in his cheek.
nervously, he lifts his eyes to jimin's. his gaze is fixed on your hand and the way it engulfs taehyung's cock, flicking over his slit and grazing the veins with your nails. "i want – i w-want..."
"say it, tae."
the words come not from your lips, but jimin's. two fingers slip into taehyung's ass and he jolts with a sweet moan as you curl them.
"i want your cock," he rushes out in one breath. "fuck, i want it so bad."
"even more than your boyfriend's?" your words are sly, coated in a thick layer of faux innocence. "why?"
taehyung doesn't bother answering. you know the answer – so does jimin. he turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands, bringing you down for a desperate, hungry kiss. you thrust your fingers into his hole and he jerks, clamping down around you. you swallow his moans, pumping your fingers teasingly.
"i wonder," you drawl, kissing a trail up taehyung's neck, "if he likes watching. maybe that's why he doesn't want to date you. he wants to sit back and watch as other men ruin your pretty little body – after all, it's hard to enjoy the faces you make when preoccupied with doing all the real work."
the sharp intake of breath and the way he clenches around you tells you what you want to hear. he looks up at you with those dark, dark eyes, his breath quick and shallow, and leans into it when you sit him down on the bed with a creak. swiftly, he turns over, arching his back and wiggling his ass. he gazes back at you with huge eyes as you remove your pants. he's almost shy – though the twitching cock leaking down his thigh is anything but. red and angry, it demands attention.
you glance at jimin. the knife's still in his hand, but the thought of it seems secondary to the sight of taehyung on his hands and knees. you can hardly blame him.
from the edge of the bed, you grab the bottle of lube taehyung had brought with him. you slather a generous amount onto your cock and push a few fingers into taehyung with the remnants, exhaling softly as he pushes his hips back against your knuckles.
"my perfect boy." you scissor your fingers, then slide them out. "c'mon – don't be shy. show your dear jimin how well i stretch you out."
he glances your way sharply. you're already staring at him, grinning in the airheaded, cocky, handsome way that all popular boys seem to know intrinsically. the soft lips, the blood, the way you manoeuvre taehyung's body around yours as if he's a prop to make you look better... every jock knows that rising in the ranks means he needs to talk louder than the next guy, take up more space than the next guy, have prettier girls on his arms than the next guy. they say confidence is key, but that's only good at pool parties where nobody wants to really call anyone's bluff.
you're the only one who does it right. you're the only one with a cock to match that body.
taehyung exhales shakily as he reaches back and parts his asscheeks, fingers digging harder than necessary into the plump meat. he hides his burning face in the sheets as jimin steps closer, and his breath quickens as you tap your cock against his ass, teasing his hole with your tip.
"cute, isn't he? surprisingly sweet, too. thought he'd be more of a brat when i first saw him," you hum, casually stuffing your cock into him in one smooth movement. taehyung yelps and lets out a quivery little moan, his slick walls clenching around your thick cock. he sounds like he's trying not to cry – you sigh patiently and pet his hair before your hands return to their rightful places on his hips to pull him onto you.
his body jolts with each thrust, his muffled cries breathy and whiny. his ass ripples with the slap of your hips. on a particularly rough thrust which has him seeing stars, he whimpers out a "daddy" that has jimin's breath hitching audibly.
"good, baby," you husk, palms gliding down his body appreciatively. you slap his ass – so hard your palm stings – and he chokes, already-wobbly knees giving out beneath him. he catches himself just in time but the angle has your cock driving deeper inside him, oscillating wildly from kissing his prostate to fucking his brain out his ears.
you grab a fistful of his hair and loom over him, your lips brushing his earlobe. his spine arches when you tug roughly, his eyes rolling to show their whites as your cock throbs inside him, each thrust wet and slick. "tell him how you feel, whore," you murmur, soft but loud enough for your voice to carry. he gasps sharply at the title and his aching cock leaks like a faucet into a puddle of his own precome. he shakes his head, embarrassment hot in his core.
you tilt your head. "maybe i'll even let you suck him off."
"it f-feels good," he cries immediately. the quick, precise slapping of skin on skin echoes in the room. "i love your cock! i love tay-taking cock, love being fucked by big cocks – oh god! – 'n' yours is the biggest! love getting stretched wide on your dick, getting fucked 'til it hurts—! i-i never wanna come off, mm, i love being your cockslut – wanna be your bitch, your toy, all yours—" you bury yourself balls-deep in his guts and his mouth falls open, thick white come spurting from his tip; it's almost humiliating how you can make him finish without a single brush against his dick. he smiles, broad and wobbly. "ohhh..."
you peck his cheek, pressing against his back low and heavy like an animal. you grip his jaw. "coming already? don't go passing out on me," you chide, tilting his head in jimin's direction. "look at him. look. there we go. see how hard he is? he must like how obedient you get with me – with your daddy."
heat floods his body to the marrow. you've never used that title on yourself before – it's always been taehyung's thing, something you don't mind only because it's him. the raking burn of pleasure hurts, blooming from his cock all the way up his spine and out to his fingers and toes.
possession. it spins in taehyung's jumbled mind. you fuck him like you want to bruise your name inside him, forcing him to think of you and only you even when jimin sits on that chair in front of him, a perfectly manicured hand wrapped around his leaking length, just begging to be touched.
briefly, taehyung wonders how you might fuck jimin. he's giving you his infamous bedroom eyes, but there's an acrid darkness that taints his gaze. jealousy? inadequacy? scorn? taehyung's thighs are hot and sticky.
maybe you'd be rougher with him, tie him up and fold him in half with his legs over your shoulders. even as he distantly obeys your whispered order to open his mouth, and even as jimin slides his velvety cock between his lips, he can't stop imagining you behind jimin, manhandling him and forcing him to ride you to get off, even though jimin's such a pillow princess.
you grip taehyung's hips, sweat shining on your skin. you spread his ass and thrust deeper, smirking when he jerks forward, choking down the rest of jimin's dick and ripping a pleasured curse from his throat.
taehyung's limbs feel like jelly. he braces against jimin's hip, hooking his thumb under the hem of jimin's skirt to pin it back. as he sinks down on his cock, he chances a glance up.
rid of his little sweater vest and unbuttoned down to the navel, jimin does very little to chase his high. he meets taehyung's eyes and tilts his head slightly – he's almost perfectly still, and the only thing he does is gather his skirt in a fist. your quick, snapping pace sets taehyung's, and it's only by the blown pupils and pink-tinged cheeks that taehyung knows he's doing well.
"so," you begin, and your voice is remarkably steady. "did you come here intending to kill me?"
"please, i barely know who you are. there are others—" his breath catches, and he closes his eyes to steady himself "—others who're more deserving of atonement than you. which isn't to say i thought you a paragon of virtue – you're a handsome guy on a sports team, and sin comes to your type like moths to a flame. i knew i'd come to collect eventually, but you surprised me. congrats – not many can."
"did you watch?" you ask, patting taehyung's ass almost fondly. "he did so well with the – what did you call him? your mark? did you see how beautiful he looked, nearly orgasmic as he cut him open and warmed his hands with his blood? you must enjoy it, too – seeing the life fade from your victims' eyes. otherwise, you would've culled me the moment i took your kill."
his eyes narrow. "you're sick."
you laugh. "y'know, you and your little 'cult' aren't slick. i saw how pretty girls and guys don't shy away from the forest or the nasty parts of town because what they can do far outweighs the shard of glass a cokehead waves around. i thought it was a creative writing exercise gone crazy, something to explain the unusual disappearances around here. it was good for me, though. nobody'll raise a fuss if one more douchebag goes missing."
"i should kill you now."
"but then sweet little taehyung would be upset – you heard him." you pout. "besides, you must've liked something about me or you would've gotten rid of me as soon as i ravaged your favourite boytoy. do you have a thing for corruption? is that why you stayed, watched him come as soon as he tasted my blood? if you like, i'll let him bite the other side."
he pulls taehyung's throat down on his cock by his hair. taehyung eagerly laps up every throbbing inch he receives, nails digging into jimin's ass. he jolts and gags slightly as hot come pours down his throat without warning – his eyes flutter shut as his throat bobs, lips pressed against jimin's base.
"oh, i like you," you purr, something of a song lilting your voice. "are you as angry when you take cock, i wonder?"
"try it, i dare you."
you turn your attention to taehyung, who sits jimin's cock in his mouth like a good boy. he suckles softly, dazed and faraway. his walls are soft and hot, each gummy ridge stroking and clamping around you to pull you in as deep as possible when you finally, finally come, forcing him over the precipice as well for the nth time that night.
you pet his hair and he leans into it, moaning as you gently pull out, letting him sink into the mattress. thick come drips down his inner thigh, pooling in the dips of the bed. softly, you groan, gathering yourself and lavishing kisses upon kisses over his neck and shoulder. "what do you think, baby? should i fuck the cultist freak?"
taehyung pops off wetly, licking his lips. his chest heaves. it's hard to scoop his brain up off the floor, but the thought of the two people hottest people he knows putting on a show, all for him? "p-please..."
you raise your eyes, and meet jimin's glare with a smirk. "you heard him. don't wanna disappoint, do we?"
"you think you deserve to fuck me? after everything you've done? you don't even kill for a reason," he scoffs. "you're no better than an animal."
"what is it with you and prettyboy here thinking i'm less than human? you cower behind your righteous moral justifications when you take a life and hold me to the same standards, but animals don't have morals. i can only be one, baby, so choose."
jimin glowers.
"you've got me in a box," he admits eventually, and his expression twists as your smile turns gloating. "shut up. you can fuck me – just this once."
"those are dangerous gambling words," you tease, but lay back against the headboard, one hand behind your head and the other wrapping around the base of your cock. your absence above him makes taehyung blink – hard – before he shuffles after you like a sleepy puppy and buries his face in your shoulder.
his thighs still twitch every now and again, and he lifts his unfocussed gaze to meet jimin's. it clears, just enough, for a fat, satisfied grin to spread across his face and he shifts to spread his shaky legs, showing off the warm glazed mess between his thighs like a piece of art.
jimin's cock throbs. taehyung grins lazily, knowingly, eyes half-lidded and hungry. he slides your slick cock between the vee of his fingers and flicks his wrist. a pearl of precome beads along your slit and follows the line of a vein, gathering eventually along taehyung's slender finger.
unwise, a voice whispers in his head, regal and maternal, yet youthful.
with a sigh too breathy to be accidental, taehyung splays his fingers over his lips and tilts his head back, taking one finger at a time against his scarlet tongue to clean it. his lashes graze his cheeks. his eyes are black corridors of velvet, and he gives jimin's invisible leash a tug with a curl of his pretty fingers.
it was never that taehyung made it too hard to say no. he made it far too easy to say yes.
#no one look at my lack of header please i'll fix it soon i just lost my hdd with the files </3#top male reader#x male reader#male reader#dom male reader#dom reader#top reader#bts x male reader#bottom bts#bottom taehyung#taehyung x male reader#kpop x male reader#bts x reader#kpop x reader#bts smut#taehyung smut#bottom jimin#jimin x male reader#jimin smut
204 notes
·
View notes
Note
You know, if I weren't lazy I could give you an essay on how comic Wade is either closeted transfem or wants to at least medically transition even if he stays using he/him pronouns. I'd even site my sources in MLA format for you. I'd just have to find some very specific events, and it also relies on the idea that the scars are psychosomatic (which was implied in one of the Deadpool and Spiderman comics).
The only problem is on a good day I'm wishy washy about liking that (a physical representation of his poor mental health that people either ignore or out right demonize? yes please) but on most days I don't really like it as a concept.
oh goshhhhhh I am soooo here for transfem Wade!!!!
Should you ever have the spoons to deliver that essay, I for one would love to hear it.
She (or he, I think they're pretty fluid with pronouns, like Deadpool always is!) is the transfem who makes her gender identity A Big Joke for years and years and years, always laughing about 'haha what if I was a girl what if I was your girlfriend what if my pussy got wet whenever we fought what if I wore a maid dress for you what if that hahahaha wouldn't that be funny'
to the point where
everyone can kinda tell
it isn't a joke
but Wade's almost too afraid to acknowledge that it isn't? Like, she's been keeping her barriers up with comedy for so long, and especially growing up with her dad and then in the military, a BIG part of her is fucking terrified about what it means to acknowledge how she really feels about herself, let alone embrace it.
Anyway, I think one day someone (Vanessa?) would listen to Wade doing his usual bit about 'lol what if I was a girl' and would just say "You could be, you know."
Her tone is kind, gentle, and completely fucking serious.
And Wade suddenly gets
very
very
quiet.
For all of a minute.
"Yeah," he manages eventually, hoarser than ever. Flashing Vanessa a bright, cheeky grin that doesn't quite reach his (her?) eyes. "But then you'd have competition for being the hottest woman in this polycule, and we can't have that."
But maybe next time he takes Vanessa up on her offer to do his nails and make up, she catches him looking at himself wistfully in the mirror, and presses a little kiss to the side of his head.
"I'm ready for that competition whenever you are," she promises. "But you'd better bring your A-game. I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you're a newly minted girl."
Wade chokes out a laugh. She jerks away from her reflection like she's scared that she's been caught - then, tentatively, glances back again. Looking at herself, scars and high cheekbones and thin eyelashes darkened with mascara, and more scars, and all - before her nervous, sickly yellow eyes flit to Vanessa's.
Vanessa can see the want there. The yearning.
And she can see, just as clearly, the fear.
"Rain check?" asks Wade, fake-breezy. "Not that I'm not ready for you to kick my ass at the art of hot-girlhood, but you have had a lot more practice."
Vanessa finds her hand - fever-hot as ever, and just a little sweaty. She gives it a tight squeeze.
"Rain check," she agrees, not because she wants it, but because Wade needs it. Then, distracting her, because there's a fragile set to Wade's mouth, like she's letting something she so desperately wants slip between her fingers - "What colour should I paint your toenails?"
"Ooh!" Wade perks up immediately, clapping her hands in delight. "Wolverine-costume-yellow? Nonono, gunmetal grey for Cable! And Colossus. Okay, so maybe one yellow for every two grey? Hey, I'll do yours too~ We can match!"
She's adorable when she's excited. Vanessa drops another little kiss on one of the textured ridges that divides Wade's skull into continents of scar tissue. "Sounds like a perfect girls' night."
"Girls' night," Wade repeats, smile small and precious. Then, bouncing up from the chair in front of Vanessa's vanity - "Okay, game plan! I'll go put on the Golden Girls and make popcorn, you get the nail polish and the files. Sound good?"
"Sounds amazing."
157 notes
·
View notes
Note
Why is your personal trainer joel so fucking creepy and hot 👀 that sauna scene though oh my god 🤤 Why is the thought of that creepy man dry humping the hall out of you just so 🤤 Will reader continue those ✨extra special✨ private lessons? At that point they'll just damn near be straight up fucking when they're working out lol (double work out ig??)
THANK YOU. PT Joel. I guess this turned into a smutty imagine (<700 words, I8+, teasing, semi-public smut)
Imagine the angst if he didn't grind on you next time. Little do you know, he jacked off right before you got to the gym, watching--uh oh--surveillance footage of your last workout. So, say he gets behind you as a spot and doesn't even press himself against you, but you push your ass back. You feel him, big and warm, but not hard. You're in your head about it for the whole workout.
This is unexpectedly fun for him, making you chase him. He doesn't even let you look at his shorts?? He's like, "eyes up here." He makes you work for it. Gives you a really nice, hard workout. But that's not what you came for, is it? He has you in a frog stretch at the end of the session and He finally touches reaches his hand between your legs. He ghosts two fingers over the damp crotch of your shorts, then says, "pull'em down." You do it without hesitation and he pulls them off you. "Good girl." Then he manhandles you into being flat on your stomach with your legs spread wide for him. He's quiet. All you hear is the fan kicking in, until he spits. Then you hear his hand squishing around his cock, and he lines himself up and shoves in. He breathes heavy in your ear as he fills you with his cock. He pulls your tank top and sports bra down under your tits. And you let him do whatever he wants.
--
It's too fun for him, making you desperate for it. Next time it's similar, but at the end, he doesn't fuck you. He catches you in the parking lot subtly touching yourself in your car before you drive off. He walks up to your window with a huge boner like "if ya want somethin', take it next time." So next time, he does graze you a couple of times. And at the end of the session, you're both on the floor, stretching. It's clearly on your mind. You've been squirming the whole session. He gets up on his knees and follows your eyes to his shorts -- where you're eyeing his hard length snug against his left inner thigh. He challenges you with a raise of his eyebrows, and you get up and knee walk toward him. "Good girl," he whispers. You reach out and feel him and he groans at your touch.
"Sit," you tell him.
"Hell yeah," he whispers.
"Take it out."
"Mm-hmm." Now he's sitting there with his huge cock and balls out for your taking. You take your shorts off, balance with your hands on his shoulders, and sit on it. He helps pull you down on his fat cock and you gasp. He doesn't make you do all the work. He sets the rhythm and fucks you from the bottom and he's grunting and breathing, "Fuck." His groan echoes as he pulls you down and finishes inside. "Good," he whispers.
--
Imagine you get sick of the games, or you start dating someone, so you go back to your normal gym. He shows up there, too. Probably makes you drool for a few days then catches you at the water fountain refilling your bottle. He takes the bottle out of your hand and sets it on top of the water fountain. Then grabs you by the arm and pulls you into the men's locker room. He shoves his hand down the front of your pants and grinds against you as he fingers you. It only takes a minute to get you off. From then on you work out in constant anticipation.
One time, he comes over when you're doing floor work and says under his breath, "I want ya to relax your muscles. . . ." You do as he says. "Now engage your core. . . good. . . and your pelvic floor. . . " He talks you through it. "Ok, now relax." Each "rep," you get closer and closer, and the next thing you know you're coming untouched. "Good set," he mumbles and subtly adjusts himself before going back to his workout.
#joel miller x reader#PT!joel miller#personal trainer!joel miller#joel miller smut#cw dubcon#pt!joel
300 notes
·
View notes
Note
Haiii can you pls write a fic abt being rude to jordan all day which causes them to take their anger out on the reader at the end of the day and they’re just being really aggressive and manhandling?
FRUSTRATION. JORDAN LI.
✗ warnings ; dom!jordan, sub!reader, rough sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, brat taming. not proof read. wc ; 1.2k
THE last straw is the coffee. the fucking coffee.
the sick thing is that this time, you didn't even mean it. sure, your relationship was on pause. sure, you two had been exchanging barbed quips and jibes back and forth for the worse part of two weeks.
(there wasn't even a point to it, anymore—devolving into the most inane, stupid game of chicken; who can piss the other off more? but jordan is nothing but competitive — and you'd be damned if you let them show you up.)
but this time? you swore you were minding your business. like actual, cross your heart, hope to die—stick a cupcake in your eye. unfortunately for you, grade-school promises don't exactly stick up too well when you're standing in the middle of your dorm room doorframe; foaming, hot latte sopping into your favourite jacket. and bag. oops.
"are you fucking serious?" jordan's scowl is black, arms immediately flying out to shake their sleeves, to no avail. your mouth is already open — granted, not to apologise, but it doesn't matter much anyways when all of a sudden two hands are on your torso and you're being thrust onto a bed. you’re not exactly proud of the startled yelp that peels out of you, but fuck— jordan looks.. really fucking hot.
"you get off from pissing me off, or something?" jordan grunts, eyes flaring. there are the faintest hints of bags under their eyes, and a note of tension in their voice you've never heard before. you've clearly caught them at a bad time—even in the depths of this cold war between the two of you, they've never seemed this pissed — just.. mildly irritated.
"only sometimes." you snip back, instead, squirming as their hands dig into your shoulder. it's the wrong answer.
"no." jordan hisses, hand moving up to grip your jaw with a harsh squeeze. "no, no, no. none of that." they lean in, and abruptly you feel your heart jump to your throat; tensing at the indecipherable leer to their tone.
"here's what's gonna happen, baby," the endearment comes out a derisive snarl as their hand swallows your thigh, hiking your leg up and yanking you into a straddle over their leg.
"you're gonna hump my fucking thigh," jordan growls, edging in close, breath hot against your neck as if they're about to rip your throat out. "and you're gonna scream my name like a fucking banshee, got it?" they murmur, and you inhale, jaw slack at the sheer level of cruelty in their voice, and the unmistakable spike of heat that throbs your core.
unimpressed by your silence, jordan's hand constricts around the base of your neck, squeezing. "i said, got it?" they hiss, patience running thin, and you grunt—nails digging into your palms to restrain a wince, or god forbid—a whimper. "got it." you huff, annoyance forcing its way in your inflection as if you're not about to melt into a puddle all over their thigh. god, you've been waiting for this, waiting for this for so fucking long—a week without their touch has felt like a month without fucking water. not that you'd ever admit that, out loud.
a low, unreadable hum resounds from the back of jordan's throat. "well fucking hump, then, sweetheart." they say, voice low as their teeth nips against your skin. you take the hint—forgoing your pride and slowly beginning to grind against their leg, ache between your legs growing increasingly needy as you feed into its begging, pulsing throbs, little whines beginning to fall out of your mouth.
"i said fucking scream it," they hiss, lips latching onto your neck and sucking as your body begins to tremble, feeble whine releasing from your mouth, despite yourself. "i want everyone on the floor to know it's my fucking thigh you're rutting up against like a needy slut." they say, gaze hardening as you thrust yourself against them with a breathy moan, their tone alone making you course with need. "jordan—jordan, oh, fuck—" you gasp, hand fisting into the hem of their shirt.
"louder." jordan demands, a whisper. their fingers curl against your skin, hips bucking subtly at every mention of their name. you make a little noise of protest, but jordan's eyes flash— and you find yourself keening for their approval as you thrash in their lap, body trembling all over. "jordan—" you moan, back arching all while you grind urgently into their thigh, mind blanking. "jordan, jordan, jordan jordan—" the words spill in a shaky, hoarse slew of whines that fit perfectly around your lips, like their name was made for you. your body moves as mindless as your mouth, functioning only on one, single, primal, instinctual need.
jordan jordan jordan need need thigh fuck jordan fuck me fucking fuck me, already—
"i've felt like shit all week." jordan hisses, interrupting your highly intellectual thought process—though, they don't exactly look too cut up as you continue to hump their leg, eyes glassy and teary with want. you want more. you need more. you need them inside of you—"but you're gonna make it up to me, aren't you, doll?" jordan purrs, voice a rushed mumble as their hands dig into your waist. they forcibly jerk you forwards, wrenching your legs further apart so you're splayed across their groin instead of their thigh. this time, you can't help the audible whimper that leaves your throat. "then maybe i'll forgive you."
as if on cue, your pace speeds up with an excitable whine, burying your face under their chin. "please—more—" you force out, grasp on their hem tightening as you groan, loudly, hips bucking wildly against them. "need you— in me—" the words stumble out, shamelessly, barely comprehensible. jordan grins, and with dismay you realise they're shaking their head.
"oh, c'mon. you don't deserve it." they snort, and you whine at the sheer unjustness of it all. you were only mean for them for what? a week? a whole week of them not touching you, either—fuck, you need it—their fingers, their cock—anything to fill up the burning, pounding emptiness inside you, begging to be stuffed full. you open your mouth to protest, but jordan beats you to it. "you're gonna come on my fucking thigh, or you're not gonna come at all. okay, sweetheart?"
any potential complaints die in your throat, petering out to a dismal, shaky whine of defeat. you're still grinding furiously against them. frustrated grunts leave your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, mattress quaking in time with your thrusts. you have no drive to win against them, anymore. all you wanna do is fucking come.
jordan's grip on you eases, bit by bit as you make a show of yourself — pants and whines spilling from you as you bury yourself deep into jordan's chest and just rut, like the useless thing you are. it's sad, it's needy, it's desperate; and the thing is you fucking can't— it's not enough. you need jordan. you need them.
the whimper that drifts from you even smaller than the ones before, and in an instant, your pants die— and you crumple into a breathless heap upon their chest. it still aches, dull throb between your legs left to pulse and groan out in need. you feel gross, and sticky, and sleepy. this is what you get, really, for thinking you could fuck around with jordan and get away with it.
"are you still mad at me?" you mumble into the crook of jordan's neck, fabric of their shirt still bunched up in your fists. "..jords..?" you mutter, and jordan smiles at the way your words slur, thighs still shaking, their pretty baby taught a lesson. "oh, doll." they grin, hand sliding along chest— your hipbone— the band of your underwear.
well. maybe there's still hope for you, yet.
#yameoto#(っ ‘o’)ノ⌒💥my works !#૮ smut🔞#inbox !#jordan li#jordan li x reader#jordan li fanfic#jordan li headcanons#jordan li smut#gen v#gen v smut#gen v x reader#gen v fanfic#gen v headcanons
1K notes
·
View notes