#feel like anyone i hate is a lot more on the side of ‘shaking your fist at the sky / spiteful resignation’ than ‘interpersonal vitriol’
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thoughts on going to parties with nat? like the party in the pilot episode, jackie defo labels these parties ‘compulsory team building’ in order to get the whole team to come (i can hear shauna rolling her eyes)
omg imagine pre-dating and there’s a game of 7 minutes in heaven and you spin the bottle and it lands on her and she can see you’re all nervous and stuff, so after jackie shoves you into a wardrobe or something she says you don’t have to do this but of course you say it’s fine and you will, (cus she’s so damn hot) she’d defo be gentle with you anyway and ease you into it. it’s like canon for me that she cups cheeks as she kisses, im pretty sure she does that when kissing travis in season 1?
even imagine going to these stupid high school parties whilst dating and just sitting to the side of a room with her and making fun of jeff and randy being idiotic and eventually being dragged to the dance floor to dance with the rest of the team, or just blowing everyone off for drunken walks round the neighbourhood, eventually crashing in your room
i clearly have a lot to say about this topic lol so if you ever want more thoughts i have millliiiiooooooonsssssss
-lucy dacus anon <3333
omg yes send more whenever, id love to write a full fic on the concept
showing up to the stupid party because Jackie said it was mandatory (everyone knows that it's not really, but today isn't a day you want to piss Jackie off.). You're there for about ten minutes before you're plotting ways to leave without anyone (Jackie) noticing. Before you can do anything, though, one of the Yellowjackets, probably Jackie or Shauna, but maybe Van, comes and finds you. Whoever it is drags you to a circle of the other Yellowjackets, and you immediately know what's happening.
But Nat's there, and part of you hopes that she'll spin the bottle and it'll land on you. So you sit your ass down, ready to humor your teammates. Worst-case scenario, you have to sit with somebody in a closet for seven minutes. Best-case scenario? You and Nat kissing.
When Nat spins the bottle, it lands on Van, which is both a disappointment and a relief. You're obviously sad it didn't land on you, but you know that those two aren't going to end up kissing.
An excruciating half an hour later, it's finally your turn. Your hands are shaking as you spin, and you're begging the universe for the bottle to land on Nat. By some sort of miracle, it does. But now you're freaking out, because what if she doesn't want to kiss you? Or It's a bad kiss?
Before you have a real chance to react, Jackie's shoving you in Lottie's giant pantry, and you're stuck. Nat can clearly tell you're nervous, so she's joking, trying to get you to relax, making sure you know there's no pressure, you don't have to do anything if you're not feeling it. She won't be offended.
Once she's pretty sure you're calm enough to handle it, she takes your face in her hands and looks at you for a second, giving you time to tell her to stop. When you don't she kisses you. You're expecting roughness, but she's surprisingly soft. Probably not wanting to freak you out any more.
You don't really talk about it for a couple weeks until you like actually end up dating.
BUT YES at parties just drinking with her, literally judging everyone around you because you're drunk and it's fun. Sharing drinks, shotgunning sharing a a cigarette or a blunt. #needthat.
Sometimes, if you're feeling energetic, you'll make her dance to the pop music that she claims to hate. If you're tired or overwhelmed or have just bored, you leave and wander (or drive, if one of you is sober) around the neighborhood.
At the end of the night you always end up crashing at your house, and you always make sure Nat has water and Advil so that she doesn't feel like dying in the morning.
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atrwriting · 3 months ago
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terrible company — logan howlett x reader
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secret time i never used to like wolverine because i thought i was cool and then i saw deadpool 3 and my jaw dropped and i watched most of the x men movies in like three days and now here we are
side note the tiktok edits went absolutely crazy with this scene
back at school needed to write something to keep me sane enjoy
barely edited we die like overworked students men
minors fuck off plz n thnx
as always, warnings: smut smut smuttt, enemies to lovers, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, light face slapping (trust me!), logan's a dick
“what, sweetheart? — afraid you might like it?”
you rolled your eyes at the man before you: logan howlett, the most obnoxious and formidable man you had ever met. his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his smirk hinted at so much more. this was the fifth or sixth time or so that he had flirted with you outright since you had first met him, and you had still found yourself being caught off guard from his honesty and lack of embarrassment.
he was an enigma to you — such terrible company, always brooding over something. then, randomly, he would see you and his eyes would get that look — as if he forgot what made him so miserable — and flirt with you so inappropriately that you didn’t know what to do, nor feel.
you sighed, staring at him. “can always count on you for shock value, can’t it?”
he smirked then, and you rolled your eyes. continuing, you spoke, “i’ll never get you. you are so mean to everyone — besides the people you want to fuck, of course.”
you turned away then, shaking your head. you didn’t hear him follow you. you grew angry after that realization, causing another sharp breath of air to leave your nostrils in a huff. you weren’t sure if you were angry at the fact that he didn’t follow you and immediately apologize even though he would never do that, or if you were just angry at how you were upset he didn’t follow you.
you tried not to think about it. you had work to do.
your next mission would be based out in the north somewhere — cold, dark, barely any service or electricity, and horrific weather. all of that would’ve made anyone groan, but none of that was the worst part.
not even close.
the worst part was that logan was your partner.
it made bile rise in your throat at the thought.
you generally didn’t mind him — he was grumpy, sure, but someone like old yeller would be grumpy after how many years he’s been alive and after what he’s been through. what pissed you off and what you couldn’t forgive — is how he treated different groups of people. he picked on a lot of people, and even if it was just “harmless hazing” — you didn’t care. it wasn’t cool and it definitely wasn’t hot. it was hurtful and you didn’t like it. he made fun of your friends, and that was where the hate began — and there was no end in sight.
but the best part? oh — the fucking cherry on top? his endless flirtation. he flirted with you shamelessly as if he wasn’t ruthless with your friends moments prior. did he think you void of loyalty? did he think you would sleep with him after he roasted your friends just because he threw a few sleazy comments your way? how little respect did he have for you? or, worse — how little respect did he think you had for yourself?
made your fucking blood boil.
that no good, rotten, fucking —
“hey, sweetheart —“
when you were within fifteen feet of him, it felt like all you did was roll your fucking eyes and bite back a quip. all you wanted to do was put him in his fucking place, or stay as far away from him as possible. however, with a mission so important — so dire — you couldn’t ask for a reassignment and make the team succumb to immature whims. you put up with logan because neither you, the team, nor the government had more options or time.
“what, logan?” you spat, pursing your lips as you turned around to face him.
fuck, he was so goddamn handsome. his skin was tanned from constantly being outside, looking perfectly aged. his facial hair and hairstyle were out of the ordinary as well, but it only kept your attention on him longer. he was strong — so strong. his muscles could kill in mere seconds, and you realized you hated yourself for thinking this way. for falling into the trap of a man so annoying — so undeserving of your attraction — your only response was to clench your jaw and fucking glare at him.
he raised his eyebrow at your attitude. “others already took the cars and helicopter. looks like we’re takin’ in my chopper.”
he didn’t wait for you to disagree. in fact, as you were winding up your “aaaabsolutely not” he immediately turned around and left towards the front — where his motorcycle was parked outside.
you stared at him as he walked towards the bike — broad shoulders clad in the leather jacket he always wore. his legs, even covered in jeans, were so trim and muscular that you could see the power behind each stride. when he swung one leg over the seat, and two hands gripped the handle bars — you would’ve said he was attractive if it wasn’t for how horrendous he was. you would’ve bit your hand at how broad his shoulders were and the strength behind them. you should’ve torn your gaze away from him — because at that moment, the moment where you were contemplating your attraction towards him and how it worked with your hatred for him — he caught you staring.
he caught you staring — and the fucking bastard smirked.
you cursed then, and then started towards his bike. like he once did, you swung your leg over and wrapped your arms around his midsection.
“hold on tight, sweetheart,” he spoke, the vibrations of his deep voice felt against your chest. “can’t say i’d let anything bad happen to you, though.”
“just drive, logan,” you spat through gritted teeth.
he chuckled darkly then, revving his engine. “yes ma’am.”
with his back to you, unable to see his reaction — it was the one moment, the one fucking time that you didn’t roll your eyes at him. your reaction to his words — yes ma’am — was raw and surprising, unsettling almost. you shifted in your seat and adjusted your grip on him as a warmth settled in your stomach, and on the apples of your cheeks. your breaths turned shallow, too, as your whole body succumbed to the blush that overtook.
no, you thought. you think he’s hot. that’s fine. assholes can be hot — we just can’t act on how hot they are. that’s fine. it’s fine. everything is fine —
but the way he smelled? oh god, the way he fucking smelled? logan was what bath and body works modeled those mahogany or whisky or leather or whatever-the-fuck candles after. part of you wanted to curse him out, making up something to be mad at him for — but the other parts wanted to wrap your arms around him tighter and stick your nose in the back of his neck like a depraved lunatic.
but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. you sat up straighter then — trying to put as much space as possible between you and him on a vehicle that was not meant for a rivalry between driver and passenger.
you were disgusted with yourself. so, so disgusted with yourself.
fuck, you thought. this is going to be a long night.
when you reached camp, you immediately began setting up. you set up shelter and got your supplies in order, and logan went out looking for food. that was logan’s one quality that not even you could take away from him — he was an excellent hunter. you tried to busy yourself as best as you could — setting up the tent, starting the fire, the works. the sun would almost be down before logan came back.
when you heard his footsteps, your head immediately flicked up towards him. there he was — dinner thrown over his shoulder, clad in a white tank top, and cigar in his mouth. a cloud of smoke followed behind him as he walked towards where you had set up camp.
“showing off?” you cast your gaze down, putting another log on the fire.
“…is it working?”
you couldn’t help it. you let out a small laugh.
fuck.
you cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn’t hear it. unfortunately, there was no use in that. fear struck you when you saw the tiniest smirk on his face. you brushed it off, leaving him to go get a sweatshirt as he dressed and cleaned the animal.
“scared of a little blood, sweetheart?”
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment. “it’s an animal, logan. not our enemy.”
“…fuckin’ vegans.”
“okay, old yeller —“ you quipped, poking at the fire. “you don’t feel a drop of sadness when you go after bambi?”
“it’s meat,” that was all he said on the subject, and you didn’t feel like poking the bear.
you ate in silence and went to bed in silence. actually — you went to bed. logan stayed out by the fire until you retreated to your tent. you left him with a bottle of jameson on his right, and a cigar in his left hand. his eyes were trained on the fire.
you didn’t like the look on his face. it was either an expression of zoning out, sadness, or a mixture of both — you couldn’t be sure. any time someone had asked logan what was on his mind, it was usually met with some rude or mean insult from logan. old yeller didn’t like feelings, and that worked out well for you — because you didn’t want to hear about his feelings.
you thought he would stay out all night if he could, never sleeping. however, he did end up going to bed — but you only knew that because he woke up screaming from a nightmare.
him yelling was extremely inconvenient and frankly dangerous — it could blow your cover. in your exhausted state, you sprung up and out of your tent and dashed over to where logan was curled on the ground. he was thrashing at the air — knocking over his bottle of whisky and kicking at the fire.
“logan!” you hissed, trying to force yourself out of your discombobulated state. the thrashing continued, and in a moment of desperation — you got on top of him.
straddled him, to be more exact.
in a moment, his eyes snapped open. your back was on the ground and he was above you — one of his claws at your jugular. logan’s instincts woke up before he did as he laid on top of you and over you, breathing heavily as he kept his blade drawn at your neck with his eyes blown wide.
“you were having a nightmare,” you choked out. “you’re okay —“
he was still staring at you and breathing heavily. it was like he was in a trance — unaware of how to navigate the feeling of peace and a fight or flight response. his pupils, blown wide, showed no sign of calming down.
you reached both hands to grasp at his cheeks, feeling the tickle of his beard on your palms. “you’re safe — it’s alright.”
he dropped his head then — on your collarbone. it hung in shame, guilt, and exhaustion. the unholy trinity that followed logan howlett around for his entire life. one of your hands slid to the back of his neck, cupping the base of his head as his thumb stroked his skin.
“i’m sorry,” was all he said, head still in the crook of your neck.
“you’re good — i get them, too.”
“i’m not looking for a pity party, alright?” he snapped, pushing himself up.
that was it. the final straw.
you reached forward them, yanking him by the shirt so you were nose to nose — tongue on fire, throat hoarse with anger and tight with sadness. “you’re such an ass, you know that? all you do is insult my friends, expect me to sleep with you, and then the moment — the one fucking moment — you show any sign of humanity, i extend a fucking olive branch, and you snap at me? — the fuck is your problem, logan?”
he raised his brows then, almost in a beckoning fashion. “you think i need a shoulder to cry on, huh, sweetheart? — that’s the thing with you young people, why your friends annoy me so much — there’s no fucking time to spend whining when there’s a fucking job to do.”
“jealous, logan?” you spat, still gripping his shirt. “can’t stand the fact that i would rather console the people you insult rather than let you fuck me?”
“what you do in your spare time is yours, sweetheart —“ he scoffed. “if you want to spend it with people who don’t respect you, fine by me.”
“don’t respect me?!” you spat. your face was red and hot now, burning with rage. every word that left your mouth was coated in venom hoping to strike him like his words struck you. “you’d fuck me, leave, and then probably treat me with as much disdain as you treat everyone else — how the fuck is that better?!”
oh — you shouldn’t have.
you really, really shouldn’t have.
you felt the regret as soon the word “better” left your mouth — only a moment before you saw something switch in logan’s eyes. the switch was followed by a twitch in his jaw, the movement he makes before he basically uses someone’s spine as a tooth pick. you knew he wouldn’t hurt you — he couldn’t, he wouldn’t — but damn, the realization of how much weight your statement held in his chest concerned you.
you watched his nose crinkle in anger.
he let out a frustrated, slow breath.
another.
and another.
and then another. he was still on top of you then — staring down his nose at you. you were cocky, cocking your chin up at him — trying to feign looking him in the eyes despite your lack of height. you didn’t want to be a sexual object, there for his free use. you didn’t want to be something he could discard, worthless. you didn’t want logan to give you the same treatment he gave your friends — because that would mean you were no longer worth anything to him.
you braced yourself for his words — what you always thought would come, sooner or later. the end of flirting, and the beginning of rejection and hatred.
“that’s it, huh?” he spoke low then, fighting back anger. “the princess thought i’d leave?” his lips were barely touching yours then, threatening the barrier and final boundary of air between you two. your chest was rising and falling with every word, unable to keep your cool. he continued, “maybe i should — since now you sound like your friends — bunch of fucking whiners.”
you slammed at his chest then, trying to push him off for his hurtful words. he didn’t budge — he was the fucking wolverine, what could you do that would get him to actually move?
“the problem is, doll —“ he took both of your hands and pressed them down next to your head. “i know you’re not like them — and i like you too much to leave.”
you scoffed, gritting your teeth. “stop fucking —“
he let go of one of your wrists and grabbed your chin in his strong hand, silencing you. he stared down at you then, and no words had the chance to leave your lips. anger sent daggers from your eyes to his, but something swirled within his irises. something worse than anger — darker. stronger. harder.
“are you going to stop fucking whining and let me kiss you?” he spat. “or are you going to crawl away with your tail between your legs and be forced to use that stashed vibrator you keep in your bag?”
you sucked in a sharp breath then — eyes going wide as your lips fell open in surprise. he smirked then, obviously pleased. your chest was still rising and falling, but now it was with shallow breaths as something else filled your lungs and abdomen.
heat. pure heat. warmth spread throughout your ribs, abdomen, and core once you absorbed logan’s words. he was so mean — so fucking rude and mean — but his “no bullshit” attitude forced you to keep out of your own way in a way you didn’t want to admit you liked. you were still then — and all you could do was stare up at logan with your big, dark eyes as a smirk crept onto his face.
“that’s it, baby,” was all he whispered before he kissed you.
the hand that once held your face slid around the back of your head, holding the base of your skull up and out for him. he planted his spread knees in between your thighs, cementing himself in place as his other arm held himself up.
logan kissed you with demand in every movement. his lips lead you in a fashion that so passionate and so dominant that your brain and body were fucking putty — his to mold in his hands as he deemed fit. you should’ve been disgusted, tormented by the fact that he would do such a thing — but you couldn’t keep up the act any longer. having logan so close, so warm — it was the ultimate act of comfort.
men had kissed you before — but no man from before could kiss you like this. this. no man had the power to claim you in the open, dangerous air while on top of you and still making you feel so safe and protected. you didn’t feel the need to go out of your way to show dominance — and it felt so fucking good to turn your brain off, even for just a moment.
and logan? fuck — logan? he had wanted nothing more for months than to be exactly where he was now; on top of you, tongue exploring the mouth that loved to insult him. he knew how on edge you were, how you were always caring about everyone but yourself — he just wanted to see what you were like when you could only think about one thing, and one thing only: your own pleasure.
it started with his fingers tightening on the back of your neck ever so slightly. your throat let out a quiet sort of mewl — like he had squeezed the last shred of focus out of you. he wanted you out of focus — not necessarily under his control, he just wanted you to lose control. crying, screaming, taking out your anger on him for all he cared — but he just wanted to be the one that made you forget about everything for a little while.
…so when he felt your hands running up and down the length of his upper body, curious as to the muscles of his shoulders — he knew what to do. he couldn’t help himself, should’ve asked —
he lowered his lower body down and ground against your clothed core.
instinctively, your legs tried to wrap around his — trying to bring him closer. you were struggling, it was so cute to him. he thought about how mean it would be to tease you, even if it was for a little bit — but would quick fun honedtly help you? the stick up your ass would probably never leave, he thought — he had to do this right.
and when he did it again — the smallest whine built in the back of your throat, sending vibrations throughout your body and senses. logan’s hyper sensitive hearing sent shivers — actual shivers — up and down his spine, and right to his cock as his strained against his zipper.
he felt you clam up then, tighten — insecure. he could sense it. smell it.
“don’t you dare —“ he breathed, demanding another kiss from you. he would swallow you whole if given the choice. “those whines you make? those sweet, little noises? — they’re mine, doll. mine. you don’t get to take what’s mine, do you?”
“no —“ you whimpered, shakily. “but — i — i thought —“
he let your neck go, much to your dismay, but that empty feeling was replaced by his large, flat palm pressing against your clothes core. you jumped for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you peered up at him through your lashes.
“thinkin’ i hate whiners?” he laughed, biting on the skin of your neck as he kept palming you. “not when they sound as pretty as you, doll. ‘m so hard for you — gotta know you want this as much as me.”
you almost let out a struggled gasp then, close to tears. he was so mean. the stress and pain of waiting could be felt all over. he was being so sweet — so generous with his touches — but you wanted more. needed more.
“wan’ it so bad, logan,” you gasped, almost hiccuping. “don’t fuck with me anymore, please — no more games.”
you felt his hand slide your zipper down its track, smirking. “no more games means you’re mine, doll. i don’t fucking share.”
you watched as his large hand — calloused from years of war, labor, and pain — found its way under your pretty, lacy thong. he wanted to rip it off you, free you from the tight clothing — but he needed you now. you needed him now, and he wouldn’t deny you any longer.
you were soaking wet when you felt two fingers slip in between your folds, sending a sharp breath to be sucked in between your lips. logan watched in awe as the flames of the fire caught the glistening wetness on his fingers, illuminating the reflection for both of you to see and witness.
it was obvious to him now — you wanted him so badly, for longer than you had ever let on.
he should’ve been slow, loving, maybe even tender — but that wasn’t him. never was, and never would be. your grip tightened on his as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, sucking him in desperation.
you immediately tried to bite back a squeal when you felt his fingers finally slide all the way inside you, leaving no space undiscovered. the pads of his fingers were nudging at the roof of your pussy as the meat of his fleshy palm rubbed against your lonely clit — pink, puffy, and pathetic. so desperate. you were biting your lip now, screwing your eyes shut — trying to fight the urge to scream his name.
“oh, i don’t think so, doll,” he grunted. “look at me.”
you tried to look at him. you really did. when you couldn’t manage it, your eyes blurry — you couldn’t believe it: he lightly smacked your jaw.
it should’ve sent you reeling, absolutely fuming — but it only caught your attention. he was glaring down at you, fuming, with a pink hue on his cheeks. “what did i say, huh?”
you couldn’t respond. he had halted his movement, leaving you to buck into his hands.
“those moans are mine,” he spat. “you’re goin’ to be loud, and you’re goin’ to let me know exactly how it feels, alright?”
“okay,” you whimpered. “please just —“
“fucking christ —“ he spat exasperatedly. his movements were rougher now, more than ever — sending you closer and closer to the edge. “your wound so tight, you know that? so fucking concerned and always thinking — you’re goin’ to let go for me, doll, and i’m not taking my eyes off this pussy until it sings for me.”
“fuck, logan —“ you threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut.
“you wanna close your eyes, baby, huh?” he grunted with cockiness in his voice. “too much for you?” his voice was low and guttural, turning you on more and more. “need to see what it’s like when you break for me, baby. — lose it for me, yeah? come on — that’s it — that’s a girl —“
every muscle in your body was tightening with every word. you were straining against him — wanting to pull him close and push him far away at the same exact time. you wanted your orgasm, he wanted your orgasm — and you both fought the other for it. you were grinding your hips up to meet his hand — and he was pushing you back down to the ground so you’d sit-the-fuck-still and take whatever he gave you.
logan hovered over you, knees still planted between your thighs. he still worked at your pussy, still forcing it to consume everything he had to offer. his free hand grabbed at the hair at the top of your head, pulling it back so you were at his complete and total mercy, gasping and whimpering for him — and only him.
“yeah, baby — get lost in it. show daddy how much you needed this.”
you couldn’t take it anymore. you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. the relentless need to stay strong, to keep your cool, always remain calm — gone. all of it — gone. shockwaves went up and down your body, every muscle now taught. your neck stretched back and your back arched up into logan’s chest as your orgasm ran up, down, and through every vein. your throat was dry and cracked — as were any and all coherent words that left your mouth. gasps, cries, whimpers — they all went straight to logan’s cock the minute he smelled the sweet and tangy scent of your juice flowing onto his hands and palm. he wanted to lick you up and down, swallow you whole — but logan wasn’t a patient man, no — never.
and there he was. smirking, above you — not even slightly tired.
he kept up his torture — hand still working at your pussy.
“that’s it, baby — ride out that high,” he grunted in your ear, biting at your shoulder. “nice and easy. come down for me, sweetheart — daddy’s not done with you yet.”
you fell back against the dirt, gasping — wondering where the fuck you were and how logan got you there. everything about you — blurry. your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell — all of it: blurry. numb and tingling. you could feel everything and nothing all at once, all while trying to catch your breath.
the only thing you could do, the only thing — was reach for logan’s belt buckle, whining for more.
he smirked down at you then once more, taking his cock our for you to wrap your small, weak hand against its girthy base. you were still reeling from the orgasm, but he didn’t mind.
“greedy girl.” he kissed you, mouth hot and demanding. “pussy feels empty without me, huh? gotta change that.”
he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, your muscles stretching and conforming to his will. you pulled him close to you, whining into his kiss. he swallowed every feverish moan with everything he had, his mind now also buzzing with pleasure.
“bet your pussy feels so warm and wet —“ he breathed. “gonna let me use you, baby? hmm?”
you shook your head feverishly, tears coming to your eyes. “please, logan — please use me.”
that’s all he needed. he slid his long length inside you, and he felt every stretch. your pussy was so sweet — ready to mold to whatever he gave you. he heard your head fall back in pleasure, a loan erupting from your chest — but logan couldn’t care about that right now. all he could focus on was how your pussy opened wide for him, sucking him in like if needed him as much as he needed you. he felt himself grow longer and thicker inside of you, almost painfully.
“jesus fucking christ —“ he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving his face into the crook of your neck. his guttural, deep moans were sent straight through your ear and down every nerve in your body. he grunted, “gonna let me take what i need, baby? let daddy use you?”
“yes, please —“ you cried. “need it so bad.”
he bent your leg back to your chest now, and suddenly the head of his cock was hitting a spot you had never felt before. so deep, so hidden — hot tears sprung to your eyes when he found it. every part of you was sensitive, buzzing for his touch — and all you could think about how there was more and more to give to him, only his to take.
“right there —!” you sobbed.
“that’s your spot, huh?” he spat through gritted teeth. “no boy has found that, i can tell. i can fucking smell it. you want me to pound into you there, baby? gonna let a real man show you how he fucks his girl?”
you were sobbing at this point, pulling him closer and closer into you if there was any space. you couldn’t respond. you didn’t have the strength or the brain to do so. all you could do was bite down on logan’s shoulder as he fucked into that spot — that one fucking spot — as he let out animalistic groans in your ear.
“all mine.”
“my fucking pussy —“
“good fucking girl —“
“gonna cream in this pussy until you can’t take it.”
your second orgasm ripped through you then as tears leaked from your eyes. your teeth broke logan’s skin, blood flooding your mouth as he moaned. the pain coursed through him with the pleasure, mixing within his veins until everything else and around him was forgotten. the only thing that mattered was the greedy pussy sucking him in, and the sweet girl beneath him.
logan was a fucking animal with how he chased your high. he ripped and clawed at the dirt as he drank in your second orgasm, feeling you go limp beneath him. the adrenaline coursing through his veins had a mind of its own — he wrapped your arms around his neck as he took your hips in both of his hands. he held you both upright then — smashing your hips down to meet his as you hung on for dear life. deep, broken grunts were pushed through his gritted teeth as he fought tooth and nail for his orgasm. he dove head first into it, letting you both fall to the ground.
you felt logan’s body shake — fucking shake. you had never known him to succumb to something so peaceful and powerful — so demanding of him. his muscles strained against the control like they were chains and he needed to break free. he groaned into the crook of your neck and tresses of your hair as he fucked himself into your puffy pussy, your cries mixing with his groans. logan’s thrust were desperate as he fucked his cream inside you, part of it coming out and leaking onto his cock as it mixed with your juice. the sight of it ripped through him as the want to claim you again and again took him too. he found your lips once more, both of you gasping into a kiss as you both settled back into the dirt.
it was going to be a long, long night...
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buckyalpine · 1 year ago
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Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…
She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵
ABSOLUTELY.
I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.
He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.
He fucks.
A lot.
Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.
There's just one issue.
The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.
That's just Bucky.
That's Bucky with everyone else.
Then there's Bucky with you.
The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.
He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.
Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.
She can't stand it.
At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.
"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"
"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"
"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"
She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.
Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.
She'd do anything to get rid of you.
She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.
"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.
"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.
It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.
That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.
At this point she didn't care about what it took.
She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.
So she took a more direct approach.
"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.
How did she know?!"
"I-I don't-
"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"
You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.
"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.
"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.
From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.
Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.
Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.
She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.
She'd do anything to end all of this.
Including hurt you.
-
You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.
You felt even worse.
You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.
"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.
"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-
She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.
"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.
"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.
"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.
"SHARON"
Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.
"What the fuck did you do?!"
"Bucky, we were just-
"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.
"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.
"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"
"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"
Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.
"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.
"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.
Did you think he'd just use you for one night?
He would never.
He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.
If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.
You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.
"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"
"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.
Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.
"What do you mean y/n"
"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-
"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"
You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.
"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.
"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"
Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.
"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"
"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"
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shockercoco · 5 months ago
Text
The Lucky One
Benny Cross x reader
Warnings - jealous!reader, some swearing, smoking, mentions of smut, fluff
Word count - 2351
a/n - ngl I wanted to add smut but it just didn’t seem like it fit, also we need more benny imagines ppl👀 i hope you all enjoy :) — read part 2 here !
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“I’ve told you this before, and I’ll tell you again – you are one lucky girl,” Kathy tells you from her spot next to you, nodding in Benny’s direction. “Or should I say that he’s the lucky one?”
You laugh as you follow her eyes, looking at Benny playing pool with some of the other Vandals in the corner. Just like any other weekend, you find yourself in this bar with all the other girlfriends as you watch Benny try to win a game of pool.
From the low lighting of the room, you couldn’t deny how good he looked as he leaned against the pool table, waiting his turn. You felt warmth bubble in your stomach, but you casually dismissed it. 
You definitely weren’t the only one who thought this, though, because some of the random floating girls had their eyes on him as well, staring at his tattooed arms that shined from the thin layer of sweat covering them. Some of them were even bold enough to go up to Benny and throw themselves at him, knowing that he was taken, but not caring. 
Everyone once in a while, Benny would find your eyes and shake his head in amusement from the unwanted attention.
“I think I’m the lucky one,” you smile at her.
“Whatever you say. All I know is that it will always amaze me that Benny somehow convinced you to go out with him, “ she shakes her head in fake disappointment. “What a shame.”
Another laugh makes its way past your lips, causing you to choke on your drink. Kathy wasn’t dating anyone from the Vandals, but she hung around them a lot since she was close with some of the members – and of course because you were always around.
You turn around once you feel a presence sit down in the seat on the other side of you, revealing Benny who is already looking back at you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders as he gives you a wink.
“What are you saying to her now, Kathy?” he asks with a smile as he looks past you to look at her.
“Nothing she didn’t already know,” she shrugs, giving you a sly smile.
“Which is…?” Benny raises an eyebrow at her.
“It’s girl talk. We can’t tell you, and you wouldn’t want to know either,” you chime in before Kathy could answer. She is notorious for saying something that would get under his skin, but it’s not like it's unwarranted because Benny does the same thing right back to her.
Benny’s about to say something else when someone interrupts him. You all turn to look at Cockroach and Benny’s ex, Kay. Well, it’s not really his ex because they didn’t really date, it’s just a girl he used to ‘have relations’ with a while ago and who is a regular at the bar.
You shoot Kathy a knowing look, to which she returns, before looking back at the standing pair.
“Hey, Benny, a few of us are headed out to have a smoke. Do you want to join?” Cockroach asks, as he playfully shakes Benny’s shoulders. He holds out a cigarette for Benny to take, Benny’s ex gives you a smile before looking over at Benny, giving him a hopeful one and wanting him to say yes.
“Sure,” Benny answers as he grabs the cigarette from his friend’s hand before looking at you and asking, “Do you want to join?”
You shake your head at the offer. He knows you hate smoking and only put up with it because of him, but he didn’t want to leave you out.
“No, you go ahead,” you tell him.
Benny nods, before getting up from his seat and following a small group. You watch as they walk away and out the double doors, though you could still see them through the glass window.
“Why didn’t you go with him?” Kathy asks as the two of you look outside. “If I was you and a girl my man used to have sex with and offered him to smoke, I would be right behind him.”
“It’s not like he’s completely out of my eyesight,” you tell her, your eyes still on Benny. You watch as he accepts a lighter Kay offers, leaning down to light the cigarette with it still in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in and then slowly exhales, a cloud of smoke floating out of his mouth.
“I’m not doubting him, believe me that man loves you too much to even give someone else a chance. I’ve never seen him like this. I am doubting that girl though.”
“I’m not too worried about her,” you point out, but you feel your body contradict itself as you watch Kay laugh at something and place a hand on Benny’s arm to keep herself steady.
You don’t know much about Kay, but from what you’ve seen around the hangout, she seemed nice. Well, nice enough. It’s not like she and Benny broke off on bad terms either, they just stopped seeing each other since Benny had decided to leave town for a couple months. And it’s not like she isn’t attractive.
That had always been one of your biggest fears when it came to your relationship – Benny just deciding to up and leave you without a moment’s notice, or just randomly drop you from his life. He seemed to be pretty happy and content with you, though, always wanting to be around you. That didn’t stop that fear from lingering in the back of your head.
You shake your head, an attempt to make your thoughts disappear, and take a sip from the drink you had been nursing.
Throughout the night, you stay around Kathy. The two of you have a couple more drinks as you both decide to play some rounds at the pool table since most of the guys had walked away. Some of the guys you and Kathy did  like were around to play as well. You joined in on some of the bets and even ended up winning some money, but some of the guys got upset.
While all of this was happening, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking out of the window at Benny. It was mainly to admire him, but you can’t deny the fact that you were trying to read everyone’s lips through the glass. I mean, you couldn’t help yourself. It seemed like Kay was constantly laughing at things Benny would say and vice versa. Then again, they could be pity laughs. You hope they were just pity laughs.
Benny didn’t come back inside until the night ended and people were beginning to head home. He said his goodbyes, even to Kay, before coming back inside and searching for you. His eyes land on you near the pool table with Kathy and he makes his way towards you, grabbing your jacket and his.
“You ready to go?” you hear Benny ask from behind you.
“Oh, yeah. I guess it is late,” you turn around to look at him, no Kay in sight. You put the pool stick back in its spot, Kathy doing the same. 
He hands you your jacket before putting on his leather one as you all exit the bar. 
“You two be careful getting home,” Kathy tells the two of you, mostly to Benny as a warning. He rolls his eyes in response.
“Relax, Kathy, she’ll be fine,” Benny says, handing you a helmet before starting the engine of his motorcycle.
You watch as Kathy walks away, heading towards one of the Vandals already on their bikes and asks for a ride home. You give her a wave as Benny pulls off, before wrapping your arms around his waist, hoping he doesn’t do anything too reckless on the way home.
You hate that you feel this way about Benny staying outside practically the whole night. It’s not like it’s a new thing for him since it's common to see some of the Vandals outside enjoying a cigarette. It’s just that you weren’t a huge fan of Kay being in his company, for an extended period of time at that. 
Again though, you shouldn’t care because he’s going home with you tonight and not her, but you still do.
When the two of you arrive back to your place, you quickly dismount the bike and head inside to take a shower, not wanting Benny to see your face because there’s no doubt that he’ll be able to see right through you. 
You hope he doesn’t try to join you in the shower either, since you’re not particularly in the mood at the moment. Thankfully he doesn’t and just sprawls out on the bed and waits for his turn in the bathroom.
While Benny’s in the shower, you decide to go downstairs and make a cup of tea to help you relax – reading a random newspaper while you wait for the water to boil on the stove. Hopefully this will help you get over the petty thoughts in your mind.
“I forgot to ask you, the guys are having this picnic in a couple of days and I was wondering if you wanted to come?” you hear Benny ask as he enters the kitchen. You glance out of the corner of your eye and take in his appearance – he’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top with his hair still damp.
“Yeah,” you answer, keeping your eyes on the paper on the counter. “Who’s going to be there? everyone?”
He starts listing off some names.
“And Kay?” you ask.
“I guess so, yeah,” Benny blinks, confused as to why you asked, but choosing to ignore it. 
It’s silent for a moment, neither of you saying anything next. Then you hear the sound of boiling water, so you move from leaning against the counter to pour the water into a cup, the tea bag already sitting inside.
Behind you, Benny is staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sensing something is up and trying to figure out what. He didn’t do anything tonight, at least he doesn’t think he did, so why did you seem upset? Was it because of someone back at the bar, one of the Vandals?
“What’s up with you?” Benny asks with a tilt of his head.
“Nothing, why?” you shrug, giving the water in a cup a small stir before grabbing your newspaper to read again.
“Because you’ve barely said anything since we left the bar, so what is it?” he asks as he steps closer to you.
“I just said something.”
“Oh wow, four whole sentences,” he sarcastically says. “I’m serious.”
You take a deep breath. “I’m fine, I’m just tired.”
Benny doesn’t believe it for a second. He steps closer to you and takes the newspaper from your hands, wanting you to look at him. He was going to get to the bottom of this.
“What are you doing?” you turn to look at him.
“No, what are you doing? What’s up with this little mood you’re in?”
“Benny, please, it’s too late for this,” you roll your eyes and turn away, reaching for your cup. So much for relaxation.
Benny takes that from your hands too, moving everything out of your reach and using his body to press you against the counter. It took him a minute, but he thinks he has an answer.
“What’s your problem?”
“Why did you ask if Kay was going to the picnic?” 
“I didn’t know it was a problem for me wanting to know who’s attending,” you fold your arms across your chest, you glare up at him.
“It’s not, but you never ask about her. So what is it really?”
“What are you trying to accuse me of?”
“We both know what,” Benny leans down closer to your face, placing his arms on the counter on both sides of you. “I just need you to say it.”
“Fuck you,” you stare into his eyes, his gaze just as intense.
And fuck him for being able to read you like a book.
“So it’s true, then?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement.
There was no way in hell you were going to say you were jealous.
But Benny will. “There’s no need for this facade anymore. You’re jealous, and that’s okay,” He smirks.
You just stare back at him, your jaw clenched and slightly embarrassed.
“And what’s even funnier is that it’s because of someone like her,” he laughs.
You don’t say anything, but look away from his gaze.
“Oh come on, baby, don’t be like that,” He told you, moving his head to try and meet your gaze, but you don’t budge and continue to stare at the wall. “You would think that the fact that I’m sleeping in the house with you is confirmation enough that you’re the one I care for. Not to mention the countless times I’ve left you speechless in the bedroom.”
“Benny!” you gasp, shoving him away from you, but he just comes right back. 
“What made you jealous of her?” He questions, his smirk disappearing and his face becoming more serious.
“Nothing important,” you tell him, trying to get him to drop this conversation. You really were tired, and buddy wanted to go to sleep after an eventful night, but it’s Benny.
“No, no, no. Tell me,” He shakes his head before adding, “Don’t make me force it out of you.”
You hesitate for a moment. “She was practically all over you outside the bar, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you admit.
“I noticed that too, but I didn’t want to make a scene,” he says and you shoot him another glare. “But since you seem to care so much, I’ll remember to make one next time.”
He glanced down at your lips for a second before leaning in to close the gap between the two of you, but you move your head out of the way and press your finger against his lips.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” He mumbles. “What now?”
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pucksandpower · 6 months ago
Text
Worlds Apart
Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader
Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you
Warnings: Jos Verstappen
Based on a request by @butterflyexe
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The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.
“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”
You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.
You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”
“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”
“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”
“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”
The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”
“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”
“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.
Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”
Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”
The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”
“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”
A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.
Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”
Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”
Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”
“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.
Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”
“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”
You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”
His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”
You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”
He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”
“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”
A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”
You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”
“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”
Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”
Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”
You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”
“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”
You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.
“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.
You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”
“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”
“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.
It’s going to be okay.
He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.
Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.
Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.
***
Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.
“Max! A word, if you please.”
He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”
Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”
“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”
“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”
Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.
“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”
“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”
Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”
It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.
“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”
Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”
Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”
He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”
Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.
“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.
Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.
You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.
The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️
He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?
After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.
After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.
“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”
“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”
Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”
So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.
“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”
Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”
“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”
Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.
“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”
“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”
“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”
As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.
When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”
“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”
Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”
“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”
“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”
You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”
He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”
“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”
“Sweet dreams, liefje.”
Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.
Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.
So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.
As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.
Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.
***
You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.
For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.
Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.
Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.
Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.
That’s no ordinary car.
That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.
Just like-
“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...
“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.
His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.
He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.
“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.
Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.
“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”
“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.
“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.
A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.
“Who is that guy?”
“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”
“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”
The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.
“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”
Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.
“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”
He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.
“You’re impossible!”
“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.
This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.
But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.
Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.
“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”
There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.
“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.
“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.
“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”
“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.
“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”
You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.
“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”
You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.
“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.
“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”
There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.
But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.
“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”
Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.
“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”
A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.
“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.
Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.
“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”
And neither of you can wait.
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taeyongdoyoung · 28 days ago
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lobos, we cannot stop hunting
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summary: the full moon comes and you insist on staying with your best friend despite his valiant warnings to make you run away from him... pairing: werewolf!chan x reader genre: smut, fantasy, best friends to lovers warnings: *takes a deep breath* heat suppressants, hugging, werewolf transformation, kissing, making out, hair-pulling, eating out, begging, fingering, overstimulation, consent is established multiple times, slightly mean dom!chan but overall a sweetheart, praise+degradation, size kink (duh), unprotected sex on the floor, knotting, breeding kink, mating *exhales* author's note: happy halloween, baby stays!!! 🐺 make sure to get some yummy treats and always remember to say the magic words please and thank you 😈 but ESPECIALLY please as the king of the wolves taught us 😉🛐 word count: 1.8k
"It's a full moon tonight," your werewolf best friend Chan says.
"So?" you murmur, not even bothering to look up from your phone. Those F1 reels that keep popping up on your feed are so interesting! "You've got your pills and stuff? You'll be fine, same as always."
"I ran out, actually," Chan scratches the back of his head nervously.
You put down your phone. Sorry, sexy F1 guys, you can wait.
"Can't you get more?" you ask him.
"No, my doctor is out of town. It's his anniversary with his wife and his phone is turned off."
"Goddamnit, Chan, and you tell me that now?" you are immediately worried about your best friend.
Before he started these pills, Chan told you that the full moon was like really bad on him. As in, he was completely out of control and had these...urges that he had to take care of by himself. Basically, he was in a lot of pain. He's been using these pills for the last two years and they've been working miraculously. Chan was pretty much like a human during the usually dangerous for werewolves full moon. Thankfully, his doctor has been very helpful in giving him plenty of these amazing pills.
"I'm sorry...I thought I had one left but I must have miscalculated."
"Chan, I keep telling you to write these stuff down in advance," you shake your head. "What are you going to do tonight?"
"Suffer through it, I guess. I was just giving you a heads-up so you can get out of here...like right about now."
"What? No way I'm leaving you alone!" you argue passionately. "What if you die?"
"Uh, I'm pretty sure I won't. But you don't get it, without my pills, I could unwittingly put you in danger. My best chance to make sure I'm not a menace to civilized society is to lock the door and tie myself up or something."
"That sounds horrible!" you cry out, feeling intense sympathy for your best friend. "I don't want to leave you alone."
"You have to!" Chan insists. "I would hate myself if I hurt you."
"You won't!" you keep trying to persuade him. "I trust you more than anyone else in the universe."
Chan shakes his head, still hesitant.
"Please, you should leave before the moon comes up."
Little does he know it has already begun to rise...
"No, I'm not leaving you," you keep saying and wrap your arms around him.
Chan desperately tries to push you away. But it is too late.
As the moon's power grows, so does his. The only thing that prevents you from continuing to embrace him is his oncoming transformation. Your arms fall weakly to your side as you witness the impossible. His generally tender, adorable features quickly turn into sharp, wolflike and kind of intimidating ones, if you have to be honest. But this is your best friend, your Chan, you keep reminding yourself. And all the fear disappears from your body. As you kneel down next to him, you run your hand through his soft fur, trying to pet him.
He initially snarls and tries to scare you off but the more you insist, the more he relaxes under your gentle touch. God, you can't believe he was afraid he'd harm you. He's just...a big puppy.
You can't resist the temptation and you hug him again. He's so fluffy you're gonna die! And then, the unimaginable happens. He fucking purrs! Oh dear, if you had already been having a hard time trying to hide your feelings for your best friend, then seeing him like this would surely be your demise.
Then, unexpectedly, he shifts back to his human form, taking you by surprise. One, because that was faster than you'd expected. Two, because he's entirely naked, but doesn't seem perturbed by it. You try your best to look him in the eyes because uh...you're still not sure where this is going.
"Please, go, I don't think I can control myself any longer," Chan begs.
"Control what?" you're so confused. "I already witnessed you in your wolf form, you seem pretty chill."
"It's not my wolf form you should be scared of," Chan warns darkly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, if you don't get out of my sight in the next ten seconds, I'll fuck you until you pass out. And maybe even after that."
Oh? Wait...OH!!!
"Was that supposed to be a threat or a promise?" you quirk your eyebrows at him.
"Hold on, don't tell me you're actually excited by the prospect?" Chan wants to make sure.
"I mean...don't threaten me with a good time," you shrug calmly.
Chan kneels next to you, grabbing your hands tightly.
"I'm serious right now, don't play with me."
"What makes you think I'm not serious? I trust you, I want you, I lo- Uh, I like you a lot, whatever you do, that won't change," you mentally curse yourself for almost saying the big L-word. You hope he didn't catch that.
Judging from Chan's expression, he seems pretty satisfied with your statement.
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he whispers and kisses you harshly, biting your lips and making a mess.
Your mouths are linked by an unending streak of saliva, but honestly you couldn't care less as he claims you, pushing his tongue deeper down your throat, gripping your hair with his fingers for better access. You are already melting. You spoke too soon. You are definitely not ready for this. But you wouldn't be able to make him stop, even if you wanted to.
"Last chance," Chan breaks the kiss to give you the opportunity to back out. To get out of here while you still can.
"Do your worst," you challenge him recklessly and he kisses you again, even harder than before if that is possible.
You know that your best friend, despite his shy and cute demeanour, is physically stronger and bigger than you, but seeing him like this, completely losing control is such a thrill you make sure to commit the picture to memory as vividly as you can.
Chan takes off your clothes in a hurry and just like a hungry wolf, attacks your pussy. And starts devouring it as if it's his last meal on Earth. He doesn't even make the effort to get to the couch, which is so close. He just takes you right there, on the floor. You shake uncontrollably, but he grips your thighs to stop you from moving.
"Please, please, please," you keep repeating even though you have no idea what you're asking for. For him to keep going? For him to stop? You don't know anymore.
"I like it when you beg," Chan smirks against your folds and dives back in, swimming in your water.
It doesn't take you long to burst, completely letting go for him.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he praises you, not giving you time to recover and tracing circles around your entrance with his big fingers.
"No, you," you whisper weakly, trying to make him slow down by pushing his hand away. Needless to say, your efforts are in vain. "I'm s-sensitive."
Chan laughs cruelly.
"You can take it," his words are meant to be reassuring but they're not, as he sticks his finger inside of you.
It's just one but it's already so thick you are beginning to lose your mind.
"C-chan, p-please," you cry for him.
"What is it, sweetheart? You want another?" he mocks your lack of coherence and adds a second finger without waiting for your approval.
"N-no, I c-can't," you shake your head desperately.
"Yes, you can," Chan seems fully convinced, adding a third finger. "You're so tiny, gotta stretch you up real good to be able to take my cock next. Don't you want that, babygirl?"
"Yes, I want it," you are quick to agree and do your best to relax for his big fingers.
"Gonna let me take this sweet pussy with my wolf cock? Claim you as mine? Give you my pups?" he asks gently, his unrestrained actions in complete contrast with his sweet words.
"Yes, yes! Gonna let you breed me like the stupid bitch I am," you answer, degrading yourself in the process.
"That's what I like to hear, darling," Chan praises you and makes you come again on his fingers.
You are almost about to pass out. But somehow you manage to hold on for the next part. You want to feel it. Every second of it.
"Are you sure?" he asks once again, melting your heart.
"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reaffirm your belief in him.
Chan doesn't wait for a second offer and slides his cock inside of you. Fucking hell, if you thought his fingers were pretty huge, his manhood is on a whole different level. You try to adjust to his monstrous size and focus on his beautiful eyes instead. He's still your Chan, your sweet-
"Fuck, your pussy's so small, gonna rip you in half," Chan grunts loudly.
Okay, not so sweet after all.
"Please, don't. Or do, it's fine by me," you attempt to make a joke.
He laughs and kisses you again, going in deeper. You wrap your hands around his neck in a tremendous effort to ground you, help you remain conscious through it all.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chan keeps talking meanly. "Want me to ruin that tiny pussy of yours?"
"Yes, yes, I want it all," you repeat mindlessly, not caring about the consequences anymore.
Then, as if by some miracle, you feel his cock growing even more while inside of you. Is that even possible? You thought it was just a myth.
Luckily, you're wetter than ever and your pussy easily swallows his knot.
"Gonna fuck you full of my cum, make you my mate, is that okay?" Chan wants to be sure.
"It's okay, Chan, I'll be your mate," you promise, not even sure what that means. But whatever it is, you're fine with it, as long as it's with Chan...
Then, he releases his wolf seed inside of your pussy, making you feel so full, so warm, so complete.
"Take it, baby, I know you can," he reassures you and you do your best to accept his overflowing victory.
It is a total mystery how you still haven't passed out. But you're grateful for it. You'd like to treasure this moment forever.
"I don't think I'll be able to let go of you anytime soon," Chan chuckles softly, still inside of you.
"That's alright, I think I can get used to this," you respond happily, kissing him again.
"Great. 'Cause I don't plan to ever stop hunting you, my sweet little prey," Chan vows.
"I am but a willing victim to whatever it is the full moon did to you," you smile contentedly.
"And if it's not just the full moon?" Chan asks, biting your earlobe playfully with his sharp teeth. "What if I want to have my way with you every night?"
"Who needs sleep anyways?"
The End
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plasticferal · 10 months ago
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hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)
damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.
i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.
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the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.
all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.
“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.
“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.
you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.
you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.
all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.
the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.
chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.
every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.
"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.
"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.
“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.
"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.
"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.
"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.
"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.
"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.
"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.
looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.
"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.
"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.
you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.
"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.
"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.
you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.
feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.
when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.
"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.
chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.
turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.
"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.
"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.
"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.
the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.
"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.
"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.
"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.
"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.
you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.
"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.
you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.
"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.
"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.
you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.
"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.
chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.
"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.
there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.
you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.
the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.
he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.
before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.
chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.
the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.
you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.
in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.
he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.
you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.
you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.
appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.
they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.
nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.
your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.
chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.
you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.
"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.
walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.
the room is filled with tension.
matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.
"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.
"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.
"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.
"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.
matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.
"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.
you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.
you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.
“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.
he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.
“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.
“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.
"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
"chris," you start. he keeps talking.
“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.
“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.
“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.
"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.
"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.
"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.
"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.
"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.
"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.
"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.
you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.
"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.
you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.
"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."
"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"
"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.
"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"
"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.
"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.
your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.
in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.
chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.
the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.
you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.
"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.
he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.
"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.
tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.
turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.
you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.
"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.
"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.
with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.
"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.
his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.
"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.
chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.
"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.
he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.
"i mean it, y/n."
"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.
"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.
he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.
"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.
"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."
"i know, chris."
"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."
"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.
"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.
"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.
"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.
you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.
"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."
"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.
"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.
chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.
"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.
you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.
"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.
his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.
"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.
chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.
"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."
this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.
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witchybitchycrybaby · 5 months ago
Text
Enemies in public, lovers in private
Davos Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader
Warnings: smut, it's basically porn without plot, suggestive language, fighting
Words: 3k
Also this is my first ever attempt at writing 18+ content, I hope I did well
✨✨✨
It was a perfect day for another traditional clash between Blackwoods and Brackens. It wasn't too hot nor cold, it didn't rain at all and the sun wasn't shining in their faces, hidden behind clouds.
Maybe it was hiding because it no longer wanted to see the unresolved conflict between the two houses.
The air was thick with tension and hatred at the boundary line. Davos Blackwood, with a handful of his men, stood at the edge of their territory, the Red Fork River murmuring softly nearby. Opposite them, you and your brother Aeron approached, flanked by a few Bracken soldiers.
Your eyes locked with Davos' brown ones with a mix of frustration and longing. That was the only way you could communicate something more than insults without anyone paying attention to you. You blinked quickly, hiding every one of your feelings behind a cold, resentful mask.
"Blackwood," Aeron sneered, his voice, though a little bit unsure, was dripping with disdain he didn't even try to disguise. He then looked the dark haired boy up and down. "What brings you to our lands? Lost your way like a stray dog?"
Davis gritted his teeth at the insult. He took one step closer to where the bracken stood. “Just making sure you craven lot aren’t overstepping your boundaries, Bracken. Your family has a knack for moving boundary stones.”
"Funny thing, Blackwood," you barked back, his name a stinging venom on your tongue. "We were just discussing how often those stones seem to wander towards our side. Must be the wind, perhaps, or the dragons. Surely, you wouldn't have any share in that, would you?"
One of the Blackwood men, until now staying a pace behind Davos, took a step forward and looked at you with so much hate and anger you had to suppress a shiver. You stood still however; you would rather die than cower before them.
"Careful, you Bracken wench. Watch your tongue before we cut it out."
Before anyone could react, Aeron's face twisted with fury, and he drew his sword. His grip was however a bit uncertain. You really appreciated this, his want to always protect you. He was the more delicate one among the two of you, not suited for battle. And yet, he was very stubborn to prove himself.
You saw the way Davos' jaw tightened as his fingers gripped the hilt of his sword. Davos Blackwood instantly unsheathed his weapon, eyes trained on the blond boy. "Looks like little Bracken is shaking in his boots. Did your sister drag you out here to play knight?"
"I've got more honor in my little finger than you have in your entire body, Blackwood."
Davos stepped closer, his eyes darkening. "Honor? You wouldn't know honor even if it bit you."
With a war cry on his lips Aeron lunged at the Blackwood boy. The metallic sound of the sword struck the otherwise quiet air like a thunder. The clang of steel against steel echoed through the trees as they clashed with a fury borne of centuries-old hatred. Their hits were brutal and fast; their movements swift and well-practiced. You watched, your heart aching with every strike, knowing you had to play your part.
The fight was intense but brief. Both men landed a few cuts, blood staining their clothes but nothing fatal. As Davos prepared for another strike, you decided you were fed up with this fight and stormed between them, your eyes blazing with anger. You put a hold on both of their arms, stopping them from doing something they would later regret.
"Stop this, both of you, or I’ll take my sword and kill you myself,” you said with ice in your voice. Your gaze wandered from one boy to the other.
They both well knew you could and would do it; you weren't the one to make empty promises. They could play their little war all they wanted, but not on your watch. You'd faster claim a dragon than let them kill themselves over some stupid boundary stones.
Your grip on their arms remained strong until both of them lowered their swords. You could feel Davos' muscles twitching beneath your touch. He huffed with anger and wrenched himself from your grasp.
For a brief moment, Davos' eyes softened as he looked at you, but he quickly masked it with a scowl. "Listen to your little cunt of a sister, Bracken. Fuck off to your side of the river.”
As he walked away to his men, you tugged at your brother and pulled him to yours. He would bitch about it later, you knew it. But oh well, you'd take it.
Aeron glared at you enraged and also pulled his arm away from you. "What are you doing, (y/n)? They deserve to be taught a lesson."
"And you'll be the one to learn it if you don't back down," you retorted, your hand closing to the hilt of your own sword. "This pathetic Blackwood isn't worth the blood on your blade."
His jaw tightened but he had enough sense in his head not to speak.
You heard Davos sheathing his sword so you turned to him. There was a small cut on his cheek and your heartbeat quickened. He wiped the blood with the back of his hand and stared right into your eyes. You lifted your chin just a little and crossed your arms.
"Tell your men to stop moving the boundary stones, and we won't have to keep coming here to correct your mistakes."
"Perhaps if your men had the integrity to keep to their own lands, we wouldn't have this problem."
A scoff came from one of the Bracken men. "You're saying you have integrity, Blackwood?"
Davos smirked, you practically could see the glint of craze in his eyes.
"It's not us who's always trying to take more than what’s ours.”
The Blackwood and Bracken men exchanged hostile glances, muttering curses under their breath. You balled your hands into fists, your knuckles white.
"Enough!" yelled Aeron. "We'll leave your precious stones alone if you do the same."
There was a moment of silence on the hill. You knew how much Davos loved those little battles between your houses and that no matter what he might now say will stop them.
Finally, Davos gave a mocking bow, his dark eyes flashed with something very opposite to the want of truce. "Fine. But don't think this is over, Blackwood."
Aeron nodded curtly. "Wouldn't dream of it."
With that, Davos Blackwood shot you a final glance and ordered his friends to retreat. There was promise in his eyes that only you could understand. You watched them go, your heart thudding in your chest. You played this meeting well, your love-hate relationship still sealed and hidden.
"Next time, dear sister," Aeron hissed. "I won't back down so easily."
You sighed when he moved away. Maybe you won't stop him next time. Maybe you should just let them kill themselves and they'd be rid of this callow feud.
As the Brackens turned back to their lands, your thoughts lingered on Davos. Your love was a dangerous game, one that could cost you everything. But for now, you had survived another day, your secret safe for a little longer.
~•~
The Mill stood at the edge of Blackwood and Bracken lands, silent and dark, shrouded in shadows. It wasn't precisely a mill anymore, truth be told. Nobody used it, so it stood empty and alone.
And it was just perfect for Davos and you. The Mill became your sanctuary, its walls one of a very few confidants of your love and late-night trysts.
Davos waited inside, not daring to light any candles for fear of drawing unwanted attention. His breath was steady, but his heart racing. He knew you'd come. You always did.
He fixed his eyes on the wooden door when he heard the soft and cautious footsteps. Your footsteps. You quietly slipped inside, the door creaking when you closed it behind yourself. You barely had time to turn around and properly look at him before he surged forward, and in seconds was on you, pushing you against the rough wall. You yelped in surprise, but it was quickly swallowed by Davos' hungry mouth when his lips crashed against yours in a hard, desperate kiss.
You instantly melted into him with a fervent response. Your hands threaded through his silken, dark locks, pulling him even closer. His hands roamed over your clothed body, caressing the curves of your waist and hips, which he knew so well.
Finally, you broke the kiss, panting heavily, both completely out of breath. There was a string of saliva connecting your lips. You leaned back, resting your head against the wall.
"Cunt?" You asked rising an eyebrow. "I thought you'd have some more sophisticated terms up your sleeve, Blackwood."
He laughed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "My apologies. Had to keep up the appearances." he murmured, his voice anything but apologetic. He pressed a kiss to the column of your neck, and you shivered. "Would you prefer 'Bracken witch' instead?"
Your eyes narrowed in mock-serious resentment, but your body betrayed you, arching towards him. "Bastard." You whispered with a smirk on your lips. Just like that, he was forgiven.
He'd kneel if you'd asked. He would beg, and he wouldn't find any trace of shame it that. Seven Hells, he'd crawl if that was what you wanted. He'd do everything without a second to lose, because you were his Brecken. His and nobody elses.
"And you love me anyway." He gave you one more peck on the lips and grasped your hand in his. He pulled you further into the Mill, towards the makeshift bed of hay and blankets. As you moved, he kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.
"I've missed you," he whispered, his hands moving to the laces of your shirt. You could feel his impatient fingers grazing over your sternum and stomach. You sighed with contentment when the material slid from your shoulders and fell to the ground.
"I hate how much I've missed you too," you admitted, your hands clasping his shirt and pulling it over his head.
Davos attacked your lips with a new wave of desire, he kissed you like a man starved, and you were the sweetest of fruits. His hands slid down your waist to the lacing of your breeches and slipped them off. He picked you up, and you crossed your ankles behind his back. His body was so hot; in every place you touched, you felt fire.
He laid you gently on the blanket and quickly discarded his own breeches somewhere in the corner. He then climbed on top of you, careful not to put his whole body weight on you. You opened your legs to accommodate him and you gasped when his half-hard cock brushed against your inner thigh.
"I was a bit disappointed seeing you fight today, Blackwood. I've seen better fighting from children. Do you train with toddlers in Raventree Hall?"
"You vixen," Davos rasped and bit your lip and didn't let go until he tasted warm metallic liquid on his tongue. "My fighting is better than whatever pathetic excuse for training do Brackens do. I bet even a blindfolded squire could best you or your brother."
His lips wandered down your body, leaving open mouthed kisses in their wake. Down the column of your neck, to your collarbone, and to your breasts. He eagerly took one nipple in his mouth, teasing it into hard peak. He then continued his ministrations on the other one, all while you were a squirming and whining mess under him.
You threw your head back and dug your nails deep into his shoulders when Davos put his hand between your heated bodies. He was sure that the marks you'd leave would stay on his back for quite a while. His finger travelled between your folds and stopped right at your entrance. You pushed your hips to seek any type of friction but he just released your nipple with a soft pop and shook his head, a crazed smirk on his face.
"You know, Bracken," he whispered slowly, leaning above you, his face mere inches from yours. "I used 'cunt' on purpose. Because yours is just divine.
And with that he thrusted one of his digits inside you. You moaned, and all he wanted to do was freeze the time and capture the sound in a bottle. His perfect Bracken, all pretty and pliant for him. He could do whatever he wanted to you, and you'd let him. His ethereal lover.
You buckled your hips once more when he pulled and pushed two fingers. In and out, in and out. He could see the unshed tears on your lashes when his thumb started to tease your clit.
"Fuck-.Davos..." You whimpered. "You lousy teaser."
He captured your lips in his again, a low groan escaped from him when your soft, warm walls started to tighten around his fingers.
"You are so eager, my dear Bracken, so unsated. You will come on my fingers and then I'll fuck you stupid, I promise."
And it didn't take long. He kissed you until both of you were breathless, and whispered sweet nothings into your ear; whispered how good you were for him, how good you were taking him, heaven-sent just for him to have and take care of. He pushed his fingers and continued his assault oh your clit until your legs started shaking. Your back arched into him, and with his name on your lips, you climaxed. And even after that, he didn't stop because that's what he was there for. To make you happy, to worship you, your body and the ground you walked on.
You panted when he removed his fingers and brought them to his lips. You watched as his tongue darted around them, licking up your juices.
"You will be the death of me, Blackwood," you moaned and kissed him hard. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it made your head spin. You locked your ankles behind his back to keep him in place. As if Davos would rather be anywhere else than right here.
"Will you give me another one?" He asked and positioned his cock right at your entrance. You shivered some more when you felt his already leaking tip tease and push at you. "Will you," he pushed more until he was inside your warmth. "be a good girl to me?"
You writhed beneath him and it made him swell with pride. He made that. He was responsible for this state you were in. His sweet, sweet girl.
"If you don't put it in right now, I'll do it," you blurted.
"As the lady commands." He grinned at you and bottomed out in one smooth thrust.
He groaned at the feeling and hid his face in the crook of your neck. He needed a moment to compose himself and not come right away. You were so warm and tight, he truly didn't mind dying like that, inside of you.
You gasped for air and looped your arms around his neck. One of your hands tangled into his hair, your nails scratching his scalp. Did you know how much he loved you? Did you know that he would kill for you? Gods, he would start a war in your name, all you had to do was ask.
Davos tightened his jaw and rolled his hips just a little. Both of you moaned in unison. You didn't believe in heaven or hell, but you sure knew that heaven was right here, with him between your legs and inside you.
"You chicken out, Blackwood? Are you just gonna lie there and look pretty, or will you move already?"
"I should've put this mouth of yours to a better use," he muttered but did as he was told. He pulled out almost completely and then thrust back in. Hard. You yelped and cried out in pleasure.
He did it again. And again. And again. It was a torturous tempo, and everything in him screamed to be faster and claim you already. But you were a brat today, a spoiled brat, and he wanted to punish you for it. Yet, your sweet mewling and moaning made him grit his teeth and go faster.
He placed his hands in the bend of your legs and brought them to your chest to give himself even better access to your pulsating core. You were so beautiful like this, so hauntingly beautiful he could cry. His Bracken, his, his, his and he accentuated it with each deep thrust he made.
You moved together, your tempo more erratic with each push. The world outside the walls of the Mill stopped existing; there were no more lands, no more Blackwoods and no more Brackens. There were just you and your desire.
Davos knew he wouldn't last much longer, and neither would you. He left open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck and collarbones until he felt the climax building up within himself. He could feel it in you too by how your walls were tightening around him. You had this serene, fucked-out expression on your face, your eyes glassy. And it tipped him over the edge.
You came together. His milky spent filled your insides, some starting to leak out as soon as he pulled out and turned around to lie on his back beside you. Your bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, the smell of sex filling the air.
You panted heavily for a while, and then Davos pulled you on top of him, your hair pooling around you two. You placed your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.
You then pulled yourself up and leaned on your elbows. Your smile was sated when you looked into his eyes, but it faltered when your gaze fell on the cut on his cheek. You gently traced it with your fingers.
"Does it hurt?" You asked softly.
But he just turned his head and kissed your wrist. "It's not bad. Blackwoods are tougher than Brackens, I assure you."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Stubborn as mules, more like."
"Maybe," he replied and caressed your cheek. "But we know what we want."
"And what do you want, Davos Blackwood?" You whispered leaning into his touch.
"You, (y/n) Bracken. Always you."
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formula-nyoom · 7 months ago
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Rookie Reflections | LS2
Platonic! Logan Sargent x Rookie!Reader
Summary: Being the only new addition to the grid, it may seem intimidating to try and introduce yourself to the other drivers. Logan remembers exactly what it's like to be the new rookie and doesn't want a repeat of what happened to him to happen to anyone else.
A/N: Pronouns weren’t specified so I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible. I still haven’t decided if I want to write in 2nd or 3rd person, it really depends on the fic/request. Previous reader inserts I have written have been done in 2nd person so I defaulted to that with this fic, but do let me know which one you prefer. Logan, my favorite driver, I’m glad my first request is for him. Also I have no hate towards Daniel, it just made a lot more sense to me for the reader to take his seat. 
Silly season didn’t come with a lot of shake ups like people expected it to. The only team to switch up their driver line up for the upcoming season was RB, with Daniel being replaced by the newest Formula 2 champion after not delivering the results Red Bull had wanted from him.
You had met Yuki for the first time during the car launch before pre-season testing, but with all the cameras, interviews, and excitement surrounding the new car launch, you were unable to find the time to properly get to know each other. You had hoped to get a chance to maybe sit down with Yuki and get to know your new teammate, but now in Bahrain with all the drivers in one place it seemed that all of them had already split off into their pre-established friend groups that had been built up over years of racing alongside each other, Yuki included. 
That’s the thing with being the only new driver for the season: All the other drivers already knew each other well enough that you felt too intimidated to approach any of them. Going to Formula 2 where you knew almost all the drivers to Formula 1 where you knew no one, it was like being the new kid at school. And that seemed even more evident during the pre-season photoshoot. 
Yuki still had some last bits of data to go over with his engineer so you arrived at the photoshoot without your teammate. While you did arrive early, most of the drivers were already there, either talking with each other or members of their team. A few gave you curious glances, maybe an awkward smile or two, but none felt the need to approach. Not wanting to risk bothering anyone, you decided to find a spot secluded from the various groups of people while you waited for either Yuki to show up or for the photoshoot to start. Maybe when the photographer started to position people for the photos, you could possibly strike up a conversation with whoever was placed near you. But for now, you felt content standing off to the side where no one would really approach you. Or so you thought.
Logan had forgotten something in the Williams garage, making him arrive at the photoshoot after Alex. And while he could have walked over to his teammate, who was currently chatting with George, he noticed you standing off to the side. You were away from everyone to where you wouldn’t get in the way as you scrolled through your phone.
Logan knows that move. He did it many times during his rookie season because of how out of place he felt. But he also wasn’t the only rookie during his season, unlike you who was the only new person to the grid. He can probably guess how nervous or out of place you may seem. Logan knows that feeling. He hates that feeling and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. 
Maybe that’s why he had decided to approach you. Or maybe it was because he didn’t have anyone else to talk to since Alex was busy talking to George, and Oscar was busy talking to Lando. Either way, he thought it was a good idea to introduce himself.
 “Hey,” Logan said, getting your attention. “You’re the new RB driver, right?”
Logan already knew the answer to that question, but he thought that was a better question to ask than pointing out the fact that you’re the new rookie. 
 “Yea, I am.” You said. Guess you were wrong about people not approaching you as you looked at the man standing before you.  
“I’m Logan.” He said, holding out his hand for you to shake. You already knew his name before he introduced himself. Hell, you knew all drivers names on the grid but that was another intimidating reason why you hadn’t tried to approach anyone. 
 “I’m (Y/N).” You said, shaking Logan’s hand. 
“So, are you excited for the upcoming season?” Logan asked. 
 “Yea. The car seems to be a good contender with the testing we’ve done so far. Hopefully I’ll be able to score some points by the end of the season.”
 “What makes you think you won’t get points at the beginning?” Logan asked.
“Well I am the rookie this season. I’m still getting used to the car, it’s a huge difference from the F2 car I was driving last year. Plus everyone else has been racing longer than I have. It's gonna take me a while to catch up.” You explained.
 “Oh come on, don’t doubt yourself this early. Trust me, it doesn’t help.” Logan said. You shrugged.
“I guess you’re right. I mean, I’m gonna try my best no matter what, but the highest I can see myself getting for the first race is P15.” You told him.
 “That’s a good start. “ Logan said. He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The two of you ended up talking about what you both did over the winter break and your expectations for the season until the photographer called for the photoshoot to start. You hadn’t even realized Yuki had arrived until the photographer positioned you two next to each other.
 “I saw you and Logan talking earlier. I hope it was a good conversation.” He whispered as you waited for the photographer to take a picture.
“He was just introducing himself. We talked about our expectations for the season.” You told him. Yuki smiled a bit.
 “Logan’s always been nice. I’m glad you’re getting to know some of the other drivers.”
~~~
“Come on Yuki, pick up!” You mumbled as the call went to voicemail again. After pre-season testing had wrapped up, you had finally managed to get to know Yuki by going out to get dinner together with the rest of the team. He had promised that the two of you would walk together through the paddock on the first day of the season, but after arriving at the entrance you saw no sign of your teammate. And the fact that he wasn’t answering his phone didn’t help either. But looking around towards all the cars pulling in towards the entrance, you did however see Logan arriving.
 “Logan!” You quickly walked over to him as he got closer to the entrance.
“Hey. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with your team?” He asked, noticing the lack of anyone from RB with you.
 “Well me and Yuki were supposed to walk in together, but I can’t find him anywhere and he’s not answering my calls.” You said. You looked past the turnstiles at the entrance to the paddock. “I don’t really want to walk in by myself.”
 “Do you want me to walk in with you?” Logan asked. You looked back at him.
“If it’s not too much to ask.” You said. Logan just shook his head and smiled.
 “It’s no bother.” He said. He gently ushered you towards the entrance and the two of you walked through. It was an understatement to say that you were nervous to greet the cheering fans that stood by the barriers with things to sign. But knowing that Logan was right next you signing things as well and taking pictures with fans made you less nervous. You even got to take some pictures with him and fans as well. 
 “If I wore all these friendship bracelets in the car, I think I would add an extra pound.” You joked as the two of you walked past the various team garages.
“Soon you’re gonna end up having a full storage closet at your house just full of stuff that fans have given you.” Logan said. You smiled at that idea.
 “Hopefully I won’t develop carpal tunnel from all the stuff I’m gonna have to sign over the year.” Good thing being a Formula 1 driver consists more of driving cars than signing things.” 
 “You say that now, but just wait until the RB merchandise team sits you down in a room filled with driver cards you have to sign. Your wrist is going to be so sore afterwards.” Logan said. You let out a chuckle. 
 “(Y/N)!” You turned to see Yuki, coming from the RB hospitality, running over to the two of you. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry. They put me in the press conference at the last minute. I had to come early.” Yuki explained.
 “It’s ok Yuki. Logan walked in with me.” You said. You turned back to Logan. “Thank you, by the way. I should probably go see my team.”
“Like I said, it was no bother. I’d be happy to walk the paddock with you anytime.” He said. “I’ll see you two on the track.”
He waved goodbye and then headed to the William’s garage as you headed with Yuki back to the RB hospitality to get ready for the upcoming practice sessions. 
~~~
“Ok (Y/N). We’ve been knocked out of Q1. You are P17.” Your race engineer said through the radio as the qualifying session ended and you slowed your car down for a cool down lap. 
 “Not the result I had hoped for, but it’s something I can improve upon. Did Yuki make it to Q2?” You asked, making your way into the pit lane.
 “Yes, Yuki did make it into Q2.” Your engineer said. 
“That’s good. Hope he can make it into Q3.” You pulled into your designated pitlane and flipped up your visor to let some air into your helmet as the pit crew pulled your car into the garage. 
After changing out of your race suit and fireproofs, you put on a pair of headphones and joined the crew in watching Q2. You were happy to see that Logan made it into Q2 as well, and was secretly hoping he would make it into Q3 along with Yuki. Both of them did good laps during Q2 but Yuki unfortunately was only able to place P11. Logan barely managed to get by into Q3, but couldn’t place any higher and ended up in front of your teammate, placing P10 for tomorrow’s race. After congratulating Yuki on his placement, you left the RB garage to go look for Logan to do the same thing. You didn’t have to look far, as the American driver was exiting the William’s garage as you approached.
“Hey, nice driving today!” You said, giving Logan’s shoulder a congratulatory pat. 
 “Thanks. I’m shocked I was able to make it into Q3. I thought I was going to get knocked out in Q2, I didn’t expect Lance to get his lap time deleted.” Logan said. “Where’d you place?”
 “P17. I wasn’t able to gain enough speed on my last lap to get myself to a higher placement.” You said. “But that’s ok. I just need to overtake the 7 cars in front of me to get to P10 and get into the points. How hard can that be?”
You laughed, your last sentence meaning to be a joke. Logan let out a small chuckle, but he was taking what you said seriously.
 “I think you can do it. But only do it after I’ve overtaken a couple cars myself. I’d also like to get some points during the race.” He said.
 “Deal!” 
~~~
It was officially race day and your nerves seemed to be bouncing as fast as the cars that would be on track soon. You had felt confident throughout the week, being on the track and going over data with the team. But with the race starting in a couple hours, the fact that you were about to debut in your first Formula One race was starting to become very real. 
 “You squeeze that water bottle any tighter, it’s gonna explode.” You were brought out of your spiraling thoughts by Logan as he approached you from the side. Looking down, you did see that the water bottle you were holding was almost ready to burst from the steel grip you had on it.
 “Sorry, I’m just thinking about the race today.” You said, loosening your grip on the bottle.
 In a similar scenario to pre-season testing, the two of you were waiting to start the drivers parade.
 “It’s ok to be nervous about your first race. Every driver is.” He said.
“What if I crash the car?” You asked. Logan shook his head.
 “You won’t.”
“What if I can’t overtake any cars and finish last?”
 “You won’t finish last.”
“What if-”
 “Hey.” Logan placed his hands on your shoulders and made you look at him. “You’re going to be fine. You drove well during testing and practice. You can overtake the cars in front of you. And even if you finish last, so what? It’s your first race. You’re going to make mistakes and that’s ok.” Logan said. His hands on your shoulder and the speech he just gave you seemed to steel your nervous a bit as you took in what he said. 
 “Just try to have fun. Can you promise me that?” Logan asked. He held up his pinkie and you almost laughed at the childlike implications. But the serious look on Logan’s face stopped you.  You linked your pinkie with his and nodded.
 “I promise.”
The two of you ended up staying next to each other during the drivers parade, waving to fans as the truck drove by. Interviews were also happening during the parade, and with you being the new rookie, you had to be interviewed.
“So (Y/N), you're about to make your Formula 1 debut in your first Formula 1 race. How are you feeling?” The interviewer asked.
 “I’m both very nervous and very excited. I’m starting at the back of the grid, but I’m gonna try to do my best.” You said.
“I know, with being the newest addition to the grid, you may feel like you stand out. Besides your teammate Yuki, have there been any other drivers that you’ve gotten to know during pre-season testing or this weekend?”.
 “Logan actually introduced himself to me during pre-season testing and we’ve gotten to know each other a bit.” You told the interviewer. “It feels a bit intimidating being surrounded by these great drivers that I’ve always hoped to have a chance to drive alongside, so I’m really grateful to Logan for being someone on the grid that I can talk to and get to know, besides Yuki of course.”
 “Have you guys talked about anything in particular? Any expectations for your first race?”
“Logan actually gave me a really good pep talk before the drivers parade. It really helped calm my nerves down a bit. I’m gonna take Logan’s advice and try to have fun.” You said with a smile. The interviewer thanked you for your time and moved on to interview a different driver as you made your way back over to Logan. After waving to a bunch of fans, the parade concluded and you and the rest of the drivers got off the truck.
“What are you going to do during this race?” Logan asked you before the two of you departed to get ready for the race.
 “Have fun!” You said. 
“That’s right.” He gave your shoulder a reassuring pat and left for the William’s garage while you headed back to RB, your nerves seemingly having lessened. 
Logan’s pep talk seemed to be exactly what you needed. You ended up finishing the race in P11, just out of the points but only two spots behind Yuki. 
 “(Y/N) that was a fantastic first race! Well done!” Your engineer's voice came through the radio as you waved while driving around the track.
 “Oh my god! Thank you so much! That was so much fun! I couldn’t have done it without you or the team!” You said enthusiastically as you pulled into parc ferme. You sat in the car for a couple seconds, taking in the feeling of making it through your first Formula One race. Then, you took the wheel out and stepped out of the car.
Some of the pit crew workers gave you pats on the back or the shoulder, congratulating you on making it through your first race. As your eyes scanned the pit lane, looking for your team, they landed on the familiar America-decorated helmet of Logan.
 “Logan!” You called as you jogged over to him. His eyes lit up at your approach and met you halfway.
 “Nice one champ! P11 on debut!” He said, raising his hand for a high five before bringing you in for a brief congratulatory hug. 
 “I was so close to getting into points but I couldn’t catch up. You drove amazingly though! Congrats on P5!” You told him.
 “Hey, don’t put yourself down for being “just” out of the points. Next race, you and I are going to be in the top 10.” He said. “Did you have fun?”
 “Yea!” You exclaimed. Both your smiles seemed to grow.
“I told you! Come on, let’s go get weighed and you can tell me everything about the race.” Logan slung his arm over your shoulder as he led you over to the weigh stations. 
The two of you spent the rest of the night recounting each of your guys' events of the race, every overtake and every mistake either of you made. Eventually exhaustion started to hit both of you and the two of you decided to head back to your hotel rooms.
“Thank you.” You said to Logan as you stood infront of your room after Logan offered to walk you back.
 “For what?” He asked. 
“For introducing yourself to me during pre-season testing. I honestly didn’t think I would be able to get to know anyone on the grid this season. All the other drivers seem to know each other really well or are just really intimidating.” You said, fidgeting with your fingers for a bit before looking back up at him “But I’m really glad to say that you're the first friend I’ve made on the grid.”
Logan’s smile seemed to lower and you grew concerned. But he noticed this and quickly change his expression to reassurance.
 “I know how hard it is to make friends in this sport and I also know how isolating it can be. I didn’t want what happened in my rookie season to happen to you.” He told you. “I’m glad that you’re my friend too.”
You smiled, touched by what he said and happy that he considered you a friend as well. You held up your pinkie towards him.
 “Promise that we’ll both be in the points next race?”
He linked your pinkie with his and matched your smile.
 “I promise.”
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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months ago
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Hey could I possibly request an Autistic! reader x Dealer! Remus where r shows affection through biting so they'll randomly come up behind rem as hes with a customer (Or James/Sirius) and just bite his shoulder but no where near hard enough to hurt and they just stand there like that and the other person with rem gets a little confused but Remus is just completely unfased because R will do this all the time if they get overwhelmed and just need to be around Remus but is way to overwhelmed to hug him
That probably made no sense but my lil autistic brain came up with it while reading your dealed rem fics :))
Your autistic brain has made this perfect blurb be born!! Thank you for requesting and feel free to send more autistic!reader x whoever you please
You'd been sketching on the sofa in the dispensary, mechanical pencil scratching against the paper as music blasted through your headphones.
It wasn't the first time that Remus had you sit in the quietest corner of the dispensary while he was selling, and every so often he'd throw his gaze in your direction smiling quietly to himself when he found you relaxed and drawing.
"Are you sure this is all I can get?" Remus hates when customers get like this. He's been straining a new type of weed and it'd been a selective process, not wanting to waste too much of it in the event that it didn't do well.
He'd limited it to 7 grams only. It was still a lot, but to seasoned smokers, not really.
"Yeah mate, m'not trying to send anyone to the hospital if they green out." The man nods, asking Remus another question that doesn't register to you.
You're just on your way to Remus, you've been stumped by your drawing and being stumped has led to a bit of overwhelm that you know just how to get rid of.
Your hand presses into the small of Remus' back as you sink your teeth into the crook of his shoulder. You don't bite him for longer than ten seconds, not hard either- there's just the slightest imprint of your teeth in his skin when you pull away.
Remus turns to you, a question on his face that he doesn't vocalise. He doesn't need to- you've been together so long and Remus has worked hard to learn all your cues so that when you don't want or can't talk, you don't need to.
You shake your head and he nods once, the man on the other side of him confused as to the entire interaction. "Sorry mate," Remus says when you're back on the sofa, pencil tapping against your lip.
"That doesn't break skin?" the man asks and Remus chuckles, placing the baggie in his hand and taking the money from his outstretched hand.
"No it's sound, see you next week?" The man takes the dismissal, taking his weed and leaving. Remus turns in your direction.
He mimes taking off one of the ears of your headphones. "Everything okay?" he asks when you do, eyes roving your face and then taking a peek at your journal.
There on the pages are a series of sirens, all from different angles. The body twisting one way, then the other, some are swimming upside down, others are laying on a rock lower body hidden as they entice a sailor.
"Yeah, was just stuck on something. It helps." He knows it does, so much so that he doesn't even check on the mark. You lean into him when he takes a seat beside you, pressing a kiss to the bitten shoulder.
"You know it's okay, dovey." he whispers, patting your head and feeling you preen under the action. "Doesn't bother me." you smile where your lips are pressed into his skin.
"Can I do it again?" you don't sound overwhelmed but Remus nods. Your teeth sink into the same spot, Remus strokes hair back into your braid, cheek pressing into your head.
When you pull away, there's a little line of dribble moving with you. Remus swipes it away with his thumb, kissing your forehead as he watches you fix your headphones back on and pick up your sketchbook again.
You start a new sketch, one of a superhero Remus has come to recognise as yourself, equipped with your pink headphones as all, laying on a sofa much like the one you're sitting on now with a cat Remus thinks is himself sitting on the arm near your shoulder.
He sits with you until another customer comes in, eyes flitting to you every couple of minutes he's away.
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 8 months ago
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 23] || [Chapter 25]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: just cute little moments w/ a lot of banter bc ofc
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chapter 24: Pokémon?
“So, yeah, now, even their Captain wants to…” You trail off awkwardly as you press your lips together, looking at the dropped jaws on the other side of the brunch table from you.
“Hun, I don’t- We might-” Leah starts as she stares at you, blinking away the surprise as she holds the utensils.
“Right?” Mia retorts as she stares at you. “The candle I lit for you worked too well, I reckon…”
“No, really, we girlbossed a bit too close to the sun… Manifested this too hard.” Leah adds, making Mia agree eagerly.
Your face warms up and you lower your head, taking a sip of your tea. You definitely shouldn’t be having this talk about your love and sex life inside this French bistro… but alas.
“Four? I mean… Four fwb would be understandable, you know?” Mia adds and Leah nods.
“But four boyfriends?” Leah adds. “And they’re all friends, and work together?”
“They’re not my boyfriends!” You retort as you say sharply, your face burning up a bit.
“Oh yeah? Are you seeing anyone else?” Leah retorts, ever the more logical of the three of you.
“No, but like, when would I have the time for that?” You retort and that earns chuckles from all three of you.
“Good point.” Leah concedes as she sips her own warm cappuccino.
“Regardless, they literally BEAT-” Mia lowers her voice when she realize she’s being too loud. “they beat Ethan’s arse for you.” She whisper shouts. “Fwbs don’t do that, boyfriends do!”
“Right!” Leah agrees and gestures at them. “They’re absolutely your boyfriends.” 
“I hate you both.” You retort and shake your head, amused, which causes all three of you to break into giggles.
“So, which one of them is, you know-” Mia asks in a mischievous tone just as you just ate a bit of omelette, causing your eyes to widen as you stare at her.
“I feel like I’m being mocked.” You quip.
Once again the two of them erupt with laughs. “I’m sorry, hun, but we’ve gotta live vicariously through you!” Leah says, Mia nodding in agreement.
“Nooo, you’re taking the piss out of me!” You reply with a chuckle.
“C’moooooon! Gossip with us! We barely see you nowadays!” Mia begs as she puts her hands together in pleading.
“Oh bloody hell…” You retort. “I don’t know-”
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease!” Mia begs.
“Alright! Gosh, I was going to say ‘I don’t know because I haven’t been with all of them yet’!” You reply.
“You haven’t?!” The girls say with a loud gasp that attracts loads of side-eye from the other patrons. You’re probably going to get kicked out soon.
“Will you shush?” You scold them, eyes widened and lips pressed together. “No, I haven’t.”
“You’ve got to!” Mia tells you.
“We’ll get there, we’re taking it slow.” You reply.
“Babes, they beat up your ex-” Leah tells you. “They’ve all slept over at some point, they pick you up from work every day, as long as they’re in town-” She continues to list, counting with her fingers.
“Right, you’re skipping through all the loops. There’s no ‘taking it slow’!” Mia adds. “Hop on those cocks, bloody hell!”
“MIA!” You scold her with a dropped jaw.
“Oh, don’t play coy now! You’ve got four boyfriends!” Leah retorts and narrows her eyes at you, sticking her tongue out now.
“Right, collecting them like trading cards.” Mia adds, causing the three of you to laugh again.
“They’re like Pokémon, you’ve just Gotta Catch’Em All!” Leah adds, causing you to cover your mouth to hide a snort of a laugh.
“Fuck you both, honestly!” You quip playfully. You missed them, missed the laughs they’ve provided you.
“No, but really now.” Leah says once you’ve all calmed down. “They make you really happy, we can see it.” She looks at you with a warm smile on her lips.
“They do.” You confirm with a sheepish nod and smile.
“I really hopes it works out between you and them.” Mia adds. “It’s so nice to see you smile this much!” Her tone is sincere and sweet.
“Thank you…” You say softly. “I hope so too.” You tell them.
“It better, or I’ll go after them with my pipe!” Mia warns, referencing an inside joke between the three of you, a piece of rusty pipe a repairman left behind at her flat after fixing her bathroom sink, which she now uses as her ‘signature weapon’.
“Right, you’re gonna pipe four soldiers?” You joke a bit, sarcastically.
“Oh no, hun, they’re the ones piping you!” Mia adds and you all lose it laughing again.
“So when are we going to meet them?” Leah teases.
-
You shouldn’t have been surprised that Kyle would answer your texts so quick.
You also shouldn’t have been surprised that he brought Johnny in tow.
And yet you were. 
You texted Kyle your location and in less than 20 minutes he was jogging up the pavement, Johnny hot on his heels. You could see them coming through the window.
“Bloody hell…” You mutter as you watch them turn to go through the front door of the café/bistro.
“What?” Leah asks and before you can say anything, they both turn to look at where you are, finding Kyle and Johnny strolling right in and in your direction, cute little smirks on their lips.
Your friends recognize them immediately, of course, you had shown plenty of pictures, especially when you had just matched them on Tinder… But seeing them in real life is always different.
Kyle’s pretty boy-ing as usual. White v-neck to show off his collar bones and defined chest, grey jeans, white Converse and a black denim jacket overtop of it. He has his cutest smile on, pretty lashes fluttering as he comes to stand by your side.
“Hi, lovie…” He greets you and leans down, kissing the top of your head, before turning to greet your friends. “Hey, I’m Kyle!” He says politely.
He barely has time to say anything else before Johnny, throws himself onto the free chair next to you, the last one at this table for four, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.
“Mo leannan, ye look so bonnie…” He says before gripping you around the jaw and stealing a direct, open-mouthed kiss from you. Your eyes widen the moment he does, causing you to carefully hold onto his beefy forearm, returning the kiss to the best of your (embarrassed) abilities.
Just as you’re pulling away, you can hear Kyle justifying the kiss to your flabbergasted friends. “Forgive ‘im, he was raised in a barn.” 
“Haud Yer Wheesht! I was not!” Johnny retorts as he turns to look at your friends. “Hi, I’m Johnny.” He adds as a greeting, a lopsided smirk on his face, as he reaches forward to… shake hands with your friends.
Johnny smells strongly of deodorant. That Lynx body spray shite he always sprays on himself. It’s not bad, but it’s strong… You’re only lucky the leather jacket he’s wearing conceals it a bit.
It’s an old thing, maybe a couple of decades’ old, the leather starting to wear out over the shoulders, and he’s paired it with a light blue hoodie, dark jeans and black combat boots.
“Was too.” Kyle retorts, a bit childishly as he comes to stand by your side, his hands caressing your bare arms in the t-shirt you’re wearing. “You three been having fun?” He asks you and your friends. Ever mature and considerate, he is.
Your friends are still just staring. Sure, they knew you haven’t been lying to them as you told them about your relationship with these men but it’s one thing to hear about it, the other to see it.
“Yep, we had fun, Gaz…” You say softly, catching the way Johnny’s just serving himself to the dessert you haven’t yet touched on your plate.
“You really were raised in a barn.” You tell him. “Don’t even ask permission to eat my food?” You scold him, which causes him to smirk again.
“Either I stuff my mouth with food or with you. And I’m still civilised enough to know the last one is frowned upon to do in public.” Johnny retorts, then his smile grows into an impish grin. “Unless you’re into some… kinky things.” He winks.
That causes you to sputter and look away, grumbling under your breath as his ever-present tendency to make dirty jokes.
“I like ‘im!” Mia announces suddenly as she stares at Johnny.
“I knew you would. You two think the same.” You tell her and shake your head. “Which is why I only asked Kyle to come.” You add and stare at Kyle with a cocked brow, as if questioning why he didn’t come along.
“He was on his knees begging to come. What was I supposed to do? Leave ‘im behind?” Kyle quips, a playful smirk on his lips.
“Was not!!!!” Johnny retorts. “I just figured out he was coming to see you and joined in!” He adds. “Plus, my feelings are hurt you didn’t want me to come!” He tells you with a fake pout.
“Oh, piss off, it’s not that I didn’t want you to come!” You say simply. “It’s just that you’re…”
“A dickhead.” Kyle finishes for you.
“NO!” You scold Kyle. “I was going to say ‘Intense’.”
“Intense? That feels like a euphemism for something bad, mo leannan!” The Scot tells you as he pops a macaron into his mouth.
“That’s ‘cause it is.” Kyle replies for you.
“It’s not- Kyle!”
“And your friends already like me, don’t ye?” Johnny turns his attention to the girls.
“Yes, we do!” Mia replies and nods. 
Leah still hasn’t shaken out of her stupor. “My God, there’s two of them.” She says as she looks back and forth between Mia and Johnny.
“I know… I know…” You soothe her in a playfully annoyed tone.
“So, Johnny, is it?” Mia quips and leans forward to whisper conspirationally. “Give it to us straight. How does it work?” She points vaguely at you and him and Kyle.
“Mia!” You scold her this time. “I thought we were past those topics?”
“‘Those’ topics?” Kyle asks as he lowers himself near you to listen in better. “And what topics would those be?” He adds, as if he’s not perfectly aware they mean you guys’ sex life.
“Oh my God, Kyle, not you too!” You whine as you look at him.
“Nae, it’s fine that they’re curious!” Johnny quips on the other side. “I’ll gladly tell ye all about it!”
“Johnny!” You scold him again, sounding ever the more exasperated.
“Oh, you wouldn’t have anythin’ to tell either way, you dickhead.” Kyle retorts. “I’m the only one that has all the tea to share.”
“KYLE!” You scold him too, your head going back and forth between the two men flanking you.
The banter continues, your friends seemingly absolutely engrossed in the two sergeants, the way they’re making you sweat, and almost begging for the side of the gossip you had swiftly evaded earlier in the brunch.
“God help me survive this-” You murmur to yourself, feeling crescently embarrassed as everyone on the table takes the piss out of you. “I hate you all… I should’ve just invited Simon…”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 month ago
Text
Love That Burns ~ 20
LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST
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< previous chapter
Word Count: 1,810ish
Summary: Logan continues to do whatever is needed for you.
Warnings: nightmares, bad memories
Notes: I hope you like this! Let me know!
Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 
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Your nightmare fueled flames had done more damage to the building than anyone had thought. The whole school was forced to live in the hotel for a month. Though, the parents who were willing did come and get their children quickly. You couldn’t help but feel terrible about the whole situation, despite what others had tried to tell you. 
Logan and you continued to share a room and a bed. You always started out on different sides of the bed only to wake up cuddled together. Neither of you said anything of it. 
You busied yourself throughout every day with caring for the students there at the hotel. Logan busied himself with keeping an eye out on you. He didn’t want to tell you that you had been catching items on fire in your sleep. Or been crying out and thrashing around. Logan had become a master at not waking you while he put the flames out or holding you tightly so that you weren’t able to hurt yourself. He knew that there was more going on in your mind than you had yet to admit and he hated it. So for now, Logan would have to be content to doing what he could.
Finally, it was the last night in the hotel. But you and Logan seemed to be the only ones on edge about it. 
It would be the last time you shared a bed with him. And it killed you to even think about. You sat on the bed, staring at Logan as he brushed his teeth. He caught your eye in the mirror and quickly spit out the tooth paste. 
“What’s going on?” He asked turning around.
“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head.
“You don’t gotta do that.”
“Do what?”
“Lie to me. Act that you’re protecting me or some shit. I can handle whatever you’re thinking.” You looked down at your lap. Logan sighed, coming over and sitting in front of you on the bed. “Talk to me.”
“I’m… overwhelmed…” Logan stayed silent at your admission, letting you continue. “I was tortured. My free will stripped from me by the man who rescued me from homelessness and ruined our lives.”
“Homelessness?”
You sighed. You had forgotten that Logan didn’t know—or remember—your story. “I was homeless because of my father. He killed my mother for being a mutant. He was going to kill me too… I didn’t know about my mutation until that night.”
It was then that Logan realized that you had told him everything you knew about his past and the past you shared, but nothing about your individual past. “How old were you?”
“Early teens. I was in my late thirties when Stryker found me on the streets… before I killed him, he tried to appeal to me. Tried to remind me that I wouldn’t be where I am today without him… it’s the truth. For better or worse… the thing is, is that he called you the animal but I’m the one that ended up killing him.”
“He was an evil man.”
“I’ve learned that that doesn’t always justify actions. You could’ve killed him too and didn’t.”
“I didn’t because you were standing there. If you hadn’t been, it would have been a whole different story.“ You stayed silent. He moved closer to you. “What else is bothering you?”
“A lot,” you mumbled.
“Tell me.”
“I… I don’t wanna be a burden.”
“You never could be, sweetheart. Not to me.”
You could have melted right then and there. If you only knew how much Logan truly meant that. How much he was doing for you without your knowledge, that he never intended to tell you about.
You opened up to Logan that night. About everything. Your past before meeting him, what happened after Charles found you. Your overwhelming emotions about recent events. Logan listened intently, giving comments and light touches when necessary but mostly just there. 
“Thank you,” you told him after everything had been said. You were lying in the bed, ready to fall asleep.
“Nothing to thank,” he responded, leaning over and kissing your forehead. “Get some sleep.”
Your brain was too tired to comprehend anything you were saying anymore, but you still spoke. “I’m going to miss this… time with you.”
Logan’s brows furrowed. “What do ya mean?”
“It’s been different… it’s been good… like before…” You fell asleep almost as soon as the words left your mouth.
Logan’s lips pulled up into a small smile. He finished getting ready and slipped into bed. Tonight, he didn’t wait until your nightmare to pull you closer. Logan wanted to keep you next to him all night.
~~~
“Professor—“
“No.”
Logan halted near the entrance of Charles’ office. “You don’t even know—“
“I am telepathic, Logan, and your thoughts have been growing louder for weeks.”
“I need you to try to held me remember.”
“Logan, I told you—“
“I know what you said but I have to try something. Y/N is trying to put on a brace face but it’s hurting me to see how badly she’s hurting.”
“It could kill you or it may reveal something you didn’t want to remember. It could even make you lose everything again.”
“I don’t care. I have to try something.”
Charles studied Logan for a moment before sighing. It was clear that Logan was determined to do this and Charles would rather be the one to do it than Logan finding someone else who would.
“I will do it,” Charles agreed. “But I will stop if it gets too much, no matter if it’s working or not.”
~~~
Logan found you in your classroom, prepping for the week ahead. You smiled when you saw him come in.
“Hey, Lo,” you greeted. “What brings you around?”
“Need a favor, sweetheart,” he answered.
Your head tilted slightly to the side. Logan wasn’t one to ask for things, so this intrigued you. “What is it?”
He pulled a crinkled paper out of his jean pocket and handed it to you. “I need you to go to the store for me.”
You took the paper from him. “What? Are you serious? Why can’t you go yourself?”
“The Professor needs my help with a project.”
“A project?”
“Yes.”
“And you can’t go after?”
“Don’t know how long it’ll take.”
You sighed. “Fine.”
He shot you a smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
“You owe me.”
“Of course.”
~~~
Charles and Logan went down to the lab as soon as you were clear of the mansion. Colossus’s and Scott went down to help if needed. Logan was secured to the table as best as he could be, just in case something happened.
Rogue and Bobby were upstairs, put in charge of making sure you didn’t come down if you arrived home early. Though, Ororo had decided to come along with you and make sure you take your time. But you could tell that something was up because each time you had everything from Logan’s list in your cart, one of the items would disappear.
“Ororo,” you were irritated. 
“What?” She replied, faux innocence.
“Stop taking things from the cart. I want to go home.”
“I wasn’t—“
“I will light you on fire so fast. I’m serious.”
You didn’t let Ororo get near the driver’s side of the car, already wary that Ororo would somehow get you lost on the way home. Rogue and Bobby were there at the door to meet you.
“Let me take those,” Bobby said, swiping the bags from your arms.
“Thanks?” You were growing more confused. 
“Y/N! Bobby is going to take me out tonight and I need help choosing an outfit,” Rogue said, slipping her gloved arm through yours.
“I don’t know—“
“It’ll be fun.” 
She began pulling you up the stairs. You were about half way up when you heard a scream.
“James,” you breathed out. You pulled your arm out of Rogue’s hold and turned around. Ororo and Bobby were standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Move.”
“We can’t do that,” Bobby said.
“Why not?”
“Logan asked—“
“Logan asked what?” Suddenly, it all made sense. The whole day. “Why did Logan need you guys to distract me?” Another loud scream echoed through the halls. “What is going on?”
Ororo sighed. “He asked Charles to try and help him regain his memories,” she told you.
“What? I need to get down there!” You rushed down the stairs, only for Ororo and Bobby to move to block you further. “He could make it worse!”
“Y/N—“
“Move, Ororo, or I will burn this place down to get to him.”
Ororo and Bobby shared a look before they stepped aside. You ran down to the lower levels, with the others close behind. As soon as the doors opened to the lab, you came to a screeching halt. Logan was screaming and struggling against the holds on the table while Charles was at his head, holding it between his hands with his eyes closed in concentration.
“Stop it!” You yelled. “Stop it now!”
“If I stop now, it could make it worse,” Charles stated calmly. You came to Logan’s side and reached out to him. “Don’t touch him.”
You pulled your hand back and leaned closer to Logan. “I’m right here, Logan. I’m here.”
He screamed out in pain, his claws releasing from his knuckles. Tears filled your eyes, hating to see Logan in any pain. You stood by, watching, until Logan eventually passed out. Everyone slowly filed out of the room beside you and Charles. Charles opened his eyes and pulled his hands away from Logan’s head.
“Did it work?” You whispered.
“We won’t know until he wakes,” Charles answered before rolling out of the room.
You set your hand on top of one of Logan’s, brushing it lightly until the claws slipped back into him.
“Wolverine,” Logan mumbled.
“Logan?” You called, trying to coax him awake more.
“Wolverine,” he repeated, slowly opening your eyes. “You told me that story about Coo Coo Ca Choo… it’s the reason I chose the name Wolverine. Do you remember that story?”
You let out a watery chuckle as tears fell. “Do I remember? Of course, I do.”
“You’re the moon and I’m your Wolverine… I’ve got to bring you more flowers.” With barely any use of strength, Logan sat up, breaking the restraints. His hands came up to gently hold your face. 
Your hands came up to hold onto his wrists. “Do you remember anything else?”
He thought for a moment. There were still missing pieces to his memories, but a lot of you were there. “Just the important stuff, baby.”
“Why did you do that? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I had to do something… I hate seeing you hurt.”
“You did it for me?”
“I would do anything for you, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”
next chapter >
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zephyrrr101 · 8 months ago
Text
Let me help you
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x sister reader
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Warning: Targcest/incest (that's the hype about Hotd loves), fingering, consensual everything basically, dirty talking, all the ASOIAF warnings, slight Dom Daemon, MINORS DNI.
Lots of thanks to @officialaemondtargaryen for being my beta for this one. Love you lots hon.
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The day had been very tiring. You had lesson with your Septa continuously. And the woman had seemed to swore that she would not leave you alone until you have finished sewing your house sigil into the tapestry you were supposed to do for your grandsire, King Jaehaeyrs', soon approaching name day.
Your feet felt frozen with the long sitting, so did your back. Your hands ached before but now everything felt numb. Shaking them, as you tried to remove the numb feeling that seemed to have spread up to your elbows. You couldn't help but curse her as you got into your chamber after asking your sworn sheild for your maids to be called.
"Tried?"
A shriek left your mouth and you turned around to see your older brother, Daemon lazily lying on your bed with an amused smile.
"Fuck you, Daemon!" You sighed, leaning over the now closed door with your hand over your chest that reached there out of fright. You loved your brothers, you did, but Daemon was just as much of little shit as much he was charmer.
"Well, if you insist..." He drawled and you grabbed the closest thing to you and threw it at him, very obviously not hitting the target as the very expensive brass vase had landed on your pillow a good one hand away from your brother's head. Did you care? No.
"I'm already tired, Dae. And annoyed. So if you're here to rile me up, I suggest get the fuck out," You moved around the room, making your way over to other side of bed and laying down on your stomach very ungracefully, pushing the vase down on floor.
You think Daemon understood that you were quite serious. Well, he better have or else you were going to hit him perfectly on his perfect annoying face.
You felt his hand caressing your hair, the hair of same color that you shared with him. It brought you comfort as his fingers moved from the crown of your head to base, his fingers, just the right pressure, oh your brother could also be just as sweet as infuriating he was when you needed him to be.
"What happened?" He whispered and he turned you over and laid beside you. Now you were facing him, you could see a frown on his beautiful face. Along with your hair, you shared your nose with him, longer than that of Viserys'. And your cheekbones too. The same cheekbones that he was now caressing.
"My Septa had me doing needlework all day." You told. Daemon snorted at it and he received a poke in ribs for that whe you continued your complaining. "Do not laugh. My hands are numb from working on that tapestry. My legs and back feel just as useless."
"Is my haedar so much in pain?" He mused, sporting a smirk, but his words were genuine. You knew. Always.
Daemon was a mystery to most. You had seen girls gush at him, your maids-in-waiting were just mad about him. When you looked at him you saw nothing but your brother. A brother you loved and hated? No. No. You didn't hate him. He was more of like... A leech? Yes, a leech you did everything to squeeze the life out of you. But he did you just as much. Maybe more than anyone did. Just you did.
Daemon sat up leading you to frown at his action. "Where are you going?"
"Nowhere," he smiled at you and shifted over to the end of the bed, taking your feet in his hands. "Let me help you." His slightly calloused hands pressed into your tender flesh, rubbing and squeezing and your eyes closed at the relief you felt as you let out pleased sighs. His hands moved up first to your ankles, rolling them as easily he could, then to calves, massaging your muscles tenderly, then around the knees and then above them with soft circular motions and then—
"Daemon," one of your eyes opened as your look at him sternly.
Daemon grinned, nothing just concern seemed to be there anymore. His fingers now made there way up to your inner thighs, his movements alternating between hard and soft and with each movement he seemed to move more closer to the apex of your legs.
"What are you doing, lekia?" You retorted, knowing where it was leading to.
"Being a good brother and helping my sister relax, of course," he leaned down, slowly coming up, and hovered over you, his face just above yours, you could easily smell Caraxes on him along with the leather vest that he wore most of the time and the sweet fragrance of Arbor Gold that was both of yours favourite.
"We can't, Daemon. Not now. I've called my maids." You tried to push him off you. As much as you loved Daemon doing all the other worldly things to you, getting caught was not something you could afford. Daemon did not budge. He simply dipped down, his lips meeting yours and you easily melted into him.
"Send them away. Who cares?" It wasn't that hard for you to be convinced when he was making such good effort.
One of your hands pulled at the hair, pulling him more into you as the other found it's way inside Daemon's tunic as you traced his skin. You loved the way his body felt on your skin. Each muscle strong, you could even trace some small scars that he received while training or in duels. Everything that made your brother beautiful.
His mouth left wet kisses down your jaw, his teeth nipping at soft skin of your neck and you gasp when he sucked on your skin. He was going to leave a mark. He was doing it deliberately. This bastard! You could feel your small cloth getting wet. Oh, he did it again. Biting that spot on your neck. You loved it when he did it.
Your hands moved down his chest, you caress every inch of his you could with the tunic that still was attached to him and moved down and down and down, reaching the lace of his breeches.
Daemon grabbed your hands, and pulled them up, keeping them prisoner above your head. "Daemon, what—"
"Hush, sweet sister," he spoke, and left a kiss on your lips. "Let me take care of you." He unlaced the top of your dress, the sleeves coming down swiftly and he suckled on the tits softly. His fingers found their way to your small cloth, unlacing the barrier that was between him and the sweet nether. "My, did I do that you, haedar?"
"Daemon," you gasp, his fingers moving through your lower lips, his thumb ghosting over you pearl, a shriek followed the gasp when you felt him flicking on it. "Fuck,"
His chuckle echoed in the otherwise silent room where just your breaths could be heard. He bent and you felt it, his tongue slowly moving along the rises and lows of your cunt. He nibbled at the skin around your clit, sucking it and you moan.
His fingers caresses you and he slowly entered one digit inside you making you gasp.
Daemon rose, his fingers still in you, you could see your arousal coating his lips, his pink lips that shined under the candle light around your room. "I haven't even started and you're clenching like that?"
You moan out his name as he moves his fingers inside you, going back to sucking your pearl, lapping on your arousal. "Hmm, haedar, you taste like nectar of gods." He spoke while licking your juices and he added another finger inside you. Grabbing the sheets around you bit your lip to not make too much of a louder noise. Your sworn shield stood outside. If he heard anything, you would be sent to silent sister's just like your aunt Saera and you were sure that you won't be able to run away like her.
You undid the laces in thr front of your dress, loosening it around your chest, your mounds slipping out and you caress the skin, circling your fingers on your pebbles, pulling them and a moan left your mouth at the pleasure flooding through you from them and Daemon's fingers in you.
Daemon looked up and scowled at the sight of your fingers on your nipples. He smacked your hand with his other one, his fingers in you pausing and tugged at your pink tit.
You squealed in pain and glared at Daemon as he pulled back his fingers before adding another one. "Don't touch yourself," He gave you a stern look. "Good princess don't do such things. They let their elder brother take care of them."
You moaned as he thrusted his fingers inside you deeper, you could feel his rings in you, he was so deep. The other hand now playing with your mounds pulling, pinching caressing. "That feels good? Hmm? You are clenching on my fingers, sweet girl."
"Please, Daemon," You moaned, your hands finding his shoulders and you grabbed it hard, Daemon felt your nails biting his skin, his breeches becoming tighter with each moment. "Need you, Daemon."
"Need me? How so?" He grinned and he curled his fingers inside you, before pulling them back and pushing in again this time deeper and then again more deeper as if trying to find how far he could go just with his hand.
"Your mouth." You suck in a deep breath, "on me,"
"On you? Where? There's a lot a of places on you."
You would have thrown something at him again if he hadn't pressed his thumb on your clit making you almost scream. "My cunt! My cunt, damn it Daemon! Just fucking—"
You covered your mouth as soon as you could. You hadn't even been able to see when Daemon hand went back to sucking your pearl and lips. Your abdomen clenched, you were near your peak. And Daemon apparently knew that too since he had increased his pace.
"Princess!" Your maid's voice sounded muffled through the closed door. Or maybe it was the haze you were in. "Princess, we've come with your bath water,"
You glanced at Daemon between your legs and found him looking up at you with a devilish look in his eyes while he sucked and lapped on you like a hound who hadn't been fed in days and you felt yourself clench. Oh that infuriating bastard was enjoying it.
"Princess?" You maid called out again, her voice now sounding concerned.
"A minute!" You yelled and gasped. You couldn't see what Daemon was doing, but it felt like a blessing from Gods.
Your head was thrown back in your pillow and you felt your eyes rolling back as you reached your peak, your hand on your mouth, muffling all the moans it could as you came down from your high.
Daemon rose, still sitting between your legs, both you panting heavily. His lips glistening with your juices, he was grinning. And so were you. Daemon moved, coming to hover over you, he dropped and your lips met his, you tasted yourself on him and after a moment he pulled away, a fond look in his lilac eyes.
"What about you?" You asked, pointing at his cock, straining inside his breeches. You were tempted to loosen the laces and take him, but you knew that time was not on your side.
"I'll handle it. Maybe I'll visit Silk Street," he shrugged.
You sat up on your bed as he got off the bed, you glanced between him and the door where your maids stood outside, "Where are you going to hide?"
Daemon gave you a confused look, "Why must I hide? I am going to my room." You were even more confused as he started to walk behind your bed.
"Daemon the maids outside—" Him pushing a part of wall behind you had you stop talking. Well, it actually moving had you shut up. "What in the seven hell? Daemon?"
Your brother smirked at you as he entered what you now understood were the secret tunnels Maegor had built in the Keep. He had known about them. That fucker!
"You little cunt! Fucking—"
"Good bye, sister. Enjoy your bath. Your maids' are waiting." And he quicked his way inside the tunnel, closing the part of wall leaving the room as he wasn't even here.
Damn, your brother. You loved him so much.
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boba-beom · 8 months ago
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₊ ⊹꩜ backrow theatre | CHOI BEOMGYU, KANG TAEHYUN
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⟢ sub!beomgyu x switch fem!reader x dom!taehyun
⟢ drabble; smut, little fluff
⟢ going on a date with beomgyu in an empty cinema was a plan from the beginning. what you didn't know was that you were being monitored the whole time, and turns out it wasn't just you and beomgyu wanting to have some fun.
⟢ wc: 1.1k (drabbles never drabble)
⟢ a/n: beomgyu and taehyun. the back row of an empty movie theater. smut. @junniieesbby's req for my event! MDNI. I decided I'll slowly release these drabble reqs from my event during the week days too, I feel like it'd be a lot to post during the weekend :') I received more reqs than I thought! but I am extremely thankful nonetheless! feedback would be appreciated as always ᡣ𐭩
warnings under cut
⟢ petnames;(baby, pretty girl, good boy, etc), sir kink, threesome duh, oral (m. receiving), degradation;(slut), deep throating, exhibitionism, dirty talk, somewhat voyeurism, there's some mxm moments (if you don't like that don't send hate, just don't read), unprotected sex, hair pulling, soft choking, pervy taehyun, spit kink and cum eating. lmk if I missed anything!
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giving beomgyu head in the back row of an empty cinema was not part of the agenda your a first date, but you weren't mad about it. and neither was the man moaning like nobody's business. you two were the only ones in the cinema room after all.
"ugh, shit, baby. your mouth feels so good." beomgyu sighs, placing both of his hands on either side of your temples, resisting how fast you're sliding his dick down your throat.
the dim lights only made the view of you on your knees even hotter for your date. your fingers fondle his balls while you try and take him in deeper every now and then, and he loved it indicated by his throaty moan.
in the cinema, each room is under surveillance by a member of staff; monitoring any forbidden activities such as filming the screen or in this instance, someone receiving head at the back row of an empty cinema.
the movie wasn't much of an appeal to most but it was also the first day of the viewing—at the latest time too. the member of staff huffs, adjusting his half-hard dick in under his slacks while watching the way your head bobs up and down between the legs of a man slumping in his seat. but he better do his job.
you kneel back on your legs, fisting beomgyu's cock with both hands painfully slow, twisting your fists as he leans forward to kiss you, moaning into your mouth.
light shines on the both of you, along with a stern voice interrupting.
"excuse me, what do you think you're doing? I'm going to have to kick you guys out-"
"please don't kick us out," you squint to read his name tag, "taehyun."
blinded by his torch shining on the lewd scene of your slick hands over beomgyu's pulsing dick, you manage to see the corner of his lips curve upward.
"why shouldn't I? this is unacceptable and it's public indecency." he retorts, but his growing erection feels otherwise.
"if I let you fuck me will you let us finish and not tell anyone, sir?" you look up at him with your doe eyes, almost whining from the title rolling off of your tongue.
your boldness was good enough to keep you going, beomgyu's cock back in the warmth of your mouth and taehyun's pounding you from behind, also kneeling. the grip of two pairs of hands on your body—your head and your hips—essentially had your mind reeling, another thing added that wasn't on your agenda.
taehyun's thrusts didn't falter, fucking you hard enough until your legs are shaking, him having to hold you up.
"fucking cum, slut." taehyun grunts between clenched teeth.
your moans over beomgyu's cock doesn't help him from hold back his noises, whining your name as he feels his length throbbing against your tongue. that is, until taehyun pushes your head down, taking more of beomgyu until his tip was lodged down your throat and gargling, then pulling at your hair, stopping just when beomgyu's tip remains in your mouth.
the male above you starts grabbing on the arms of the seat, throwing his head back and mouth agape while you're moaning around his tip until he unloads his thick cum in your mouth.
"don't swallow yet, pretty girl." taehyun pants behind you, snapping his hips as he pistons into your throbbing cunt. "c'mere."
you shuffle on your knees, knowing they're bruised but the pain is nonexistent in a situation like this. taehyun sits beside beomgyu and fists his shaft, waiting for you to position yourself between his legs.
you open your mouth slowly, careful not to spill beomgyu's cum from the corners of your lips. after a couple more strokes, taehyun hunches forward, letting out his strangled groans after each pump of his white ribbons spurting out his tip and into your full mouth.
"good girl." he sighs, chest heaving while he caresses your cheek once you close your mouth. but you don't swallow. letting the bitter cum of both men mix over and under your tongue.
taehyun turns to beomgyu, a thought brewing in his head and hoping you'd be quick to catch on. he grabs your date's jaw, delicately squeezing his cheeks.
"open." is all he says, and beomgyu was quick to oblige, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out flat against his bottom lip.
taehyun looks at you, smirking and nodding his head in beomgyu's direction, a subtle smile playing on your lips. you genuinely wouldn't have taken him to be such a freak but he's so hot, and the lust in his eyes while he waits for you to move was enough to realise he was just as freaky.
getting up on your feet, your knees almost buckle as you move to hover over beomgyu, crawling over his lap as your slicked cunt makes contact with his half-hard dick. you look at him below you, whiny and bringing his hands over a loose hold around taehyun's wrist.
leaning over beomgyu's face, you part your lips, slowly letting the mixed substances fall out your mouth and into the male's beneath you. when you felt nothing left in your mouth you press your lips against beomgyu's roughly kissing him and still tasting the cum on against your tongues.
another higher pitched whine rumbles in his chest when he felt the liquids sliding down his tongue and to the back of his throat.
"that's my good boy. now swallow, baby." you coo in his ear and you feel beomgyu's cock jump beneath you, taehyun, too, found that extremely hot.
you didn't take beomgyu to be someone who would eat his own cum, let alone a stranger's, but you'd by lying to yourself if you said that it didn't turn you on.
when beomgyu swallowed the last drop of cum he opened his mouth to show you, tongue sticking out again and taehyun's hand slides down to beomgyu's throat, applying light pressure as he raises off of the seat and spits into the other male's mouth, then nods. beomgyu swallows that too, no hesitancy in sight.
"god, you take anything we give you, don't you?" taehyun chuckles, thumb rubbing beomgyu's bobbing adam's apple.
the movie was coming to an end, the credits just about to appear and the lights gradually brightens up the room while the three of you sort out your clothes and wiping down the collective mess on the seats.
you grab your jacket from your seat, looking around to find taehyun making his way to the exit of the theatre room.
"taehyun!" you call after him, also making your way down the steps to catch up to him.
he turns around, brows cocking up and his hands in his pockets.
"I was wondering," you start sweetly, "could I get your number and we can fuck again?"
he chuckles at your straightforwardness, taking his phone out for you to put your number in his contacts.
"pretty thing, I'd love to. just, not in the theatre again. you're lucky it was just me who saw." he responds firmly, but he has that stupid smirk crawling on his lips again. "and beomgyu?"
you give him a sweet smile.
"you two are hot so.." you trail, "this arrangement good?"
taehyun looks up to where beomgyu was, walking up behind you with his flushed cheeks.
"yeah, this could work." he nods, retrieving his phone from you. "see you around miss."
"see you around, sir."
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waldau-archived · 10 months ago
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hii i would like to request a fake dating scoups x reader au where the reader falls first but coups falls harder <3 thank u!
here you go anon, hope you like this :)
reset — choi seungcheol | 2,008 words | fluff, hurt/comfort
cheol brainrot go brrrr
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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technically speaking, the party’s going fine.
despite how much you want to hate it, it’s going the way parties do. there’s music, there’s alcohol, there’s your own corner if you want to tune out the sound of everything else, and there’s seungcheol’s friends. he’s spent at least half an hour introducing you to everyone — you’ve met a lot of them before, but there’s still some new ones. there’s always new ones.
and even though they’ve been nothing but polite to you, engaging you in conversation and making an effort to learn more about you, you can’t shake off the feeling that this isn’t really where you’re supposed to be.
you don’t know who you were kidding when you agreed to be his fake date for the party. he’s already had a ton of people hanging onto him throughout the course of the night. you’re not sure why he even bothered asking you. he could have asked his manager to find someone that would actually match with him, and maybe create a big splash if it made it to the news.
instead, he’d asked you out.
it won’t make a difference in the news, anyway, he’d said, like he wasn’t aware of the way he shattered your heart with those words. like it was common knowledge that nobody could even imagine the two of you together. like it wasn’t worth anyone’s time or imagination, most of all his.
suddenly, you find the sounds in the room too loud to bear. it’s not the first party you’ve been to, but it’s the first one where you’ve felt truly alone. you’re glad you haven’t touched your drink yet.
no one’s really paying attention to you exclusively, and you’re okay with nodding along and throwing in an occasional response here and there. but then it’s not okay, anymore. you shouldn’t have to be here in the first place, on this stupid fake date you agreed to because of your little crush on seungcheol.
okay, maybe it’s not just a little crush. but the point is that you shouldn’t have to be here hurting your feelings in order to spend a little time with him.
you excuse yourself under the pretense of having to take a call and head towards the balcony. joshua, one of seungcheol’s closest friends, comes up to ask you if everything’s okay. you’ve been friends with him for long enough that he can tell when you're fine and when you're not, but you give him a look that hopefully conveys you want him to let this slide.
“seungcheol mentioned this isn’t really your thing, so let him know if you want to go home. i know he’ll be okay with that.”
you nod wordlessly, words of gratitude stuck in your throat. what seungcheol tells you is true — joshua is just too damn perceptive.
you feel like you can finally take a better breath when the door shuts behind you, separating you from everyone else. the cold air makes you feel better, even if it’s beginning to seep into your skin because of the outfit you’ve worn.
it doesn’t matter, though. you need a bit of a reset.
somehow, it hardly takes four minutes before you feel someone behind you. and it’s not just anyone.
“do you have a death wish or something?”
you choose not to grace him with an answer.
“hey,” seungcheol prompts when you don’t reply. “what’s up?”
“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”
seungcheol steps to your side and looks at you. even though you’re gazing down at the empty road sparsely dotted with streetlights, you can feel his gaze pierce you.
“do you want to go home?” he asks softly.
it hurts. he shouldn’t be this considerate to you and then not like you back. it can't just be one without the other.
“i don’t know, do you?”
he sighs. “okay. i don’t know what i’ve done wrong, but i can tell you’re not comfortable right now. are you done for tonight?”
you shake your head. “i don’t want you to leave because of me. it seemed like you were having fun back there.”
“and you weren’t,” he replies, reading between the lines.
“it doesn’t matter, okay? it’s not your fault i’m not having fun.”
“that’s not how this works,” seungcheol stresses, stepping forward to grip your arms and recoiling a bit. “you’re cold.”
you shrug. another thing that’s not gone well today.
seungcheol takes off his jacket and hands it to you without any hesitation, but you don’t take it. you can’t keep living in your little daydream, living on moments where you think he might love you just a bit more than he would a friend. one of you needs to break the cycle, and if it’s going to be you, you’re prepared.
“seriously, what is wrong with you?” he asks, soft but sharp. you finally look him in the eyes. he has that gaze — the one where it looks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. it scares you sometimes, the way he’s so accurate. he must have picked up something from joshua over the years.
“nothing’s wrong with me, cheol,” you say, slightly bitter. “just because i don’t want your jacket doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”
"you're right, i'm sorry," he says, taking a step closer to you. "i shouldn't have said it like that. but...it's not just about the jacket. at first i thought i caught you on an off day, but you seemed fine till we got here. i don’t know what happened after that. are you hungry? did someone say something to you? do you need me to punch anyone?”
you give him an exasperated look. “you’d punch someone if i asked?”
“in a heartbeat. i thought you knew that by now.”
“and if i was wrong?”
“you’re never wrong when it comes to things like these. and i’d forgive you even if you were.”
"you're too trusting, you know that?"
"well," seungcheol says, lowering the jacket. but it's still in front of you, still on offer. "you're my best friend. i think you have some privilege."
you hate the earnestness in his voice as much as you love it. “i know. sorry.”
“don’t apologize, sweetheart. tell me what’s wrong, and tell me how i can fix it. i’ll do anything.”
“it’s…nothing you can do,” you say, turning away from him. it's most definitely not in his control, but it’s not your fault for loving him, either.
“how will you know if you don’t try?”
“you just know some things, cheol. trust me on that.”
“yeah? like i know you’re hiding something from me right now? something that’s eating my best friend up, and i don’t even know what to do to help?”
again. those two words. they tear you up from the inside just as much as they hold you together. you can’t help the sharp feeling in your throat which indicates tears might be on the way. you're just frustrated at the unfairness of it all. if only life was a little kinder.
seungcheol, ever perceptive, notices immediately. “sweetheart? it’s something i did, isn’t it? something i said?”
you shake your head, not wanting tears to well up.
“don’t lie to me,” he says, draping the jacket over your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. you push him away, even though you whole body wants nothing more than to be with him.
“please tell me?”
you take in a breath, the cold night air stinging your nose. “you said something.”
“what was it?”
“you said it wouldn’t make a…difference, if i was your date,” you say, focusing so much on not crying that your voice is barely audible to your own ears. “you said it like no one would care if we were together. like it wouldn’t affect you in any way. like i’m just…your best friend. and no one can see me as anything more.”
seungcheol sucks in a sharp breath. “can i hold you? please?”
you almost refuse, but decide otherwise. you’ve spilled out your mind to him, anyway. the least you deserve is a hug from him.
“i’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes into your hair, his arms looped around your waist and holding you close to him. “i didn’t— i’d never say something like that. that’s not what i meant when i said it.”
“then what did you,” mean, you mean to ask, but your breath gets swept away when he presses a kiss to your head.
“it’s just…everyone knows how close we are,” he says, hand gently running up and down your back. “i thought people wouldn’t bat an eye if they assumed we were dating, you know. i know people who already think we are. or…that we should.”
you look up at him at that. he looks serious about what he’s saying, but also shy, like he doesn’t want you looking at him when he’s speaking.
“people?”
“some of my close friends.”
that's news to you. “so you don’t mind…people thinking we’re a thing? or thinking we should be?”
“of course not,” he says, holding you with one hand and tracing your cheekbone with the other. you fall for him just a bit more, right there. “anyone would be lucky to have you. i’d be the luckiest guy to have you.”
he just says things like that, and it makes you wonder if he really means them. so you decide to push him this time, and see where it goes. and blame it on your nerves and the drink you never had if things don’t go well. “would you?”
“want to have you?”
you nod, breath trapped in your throat.
“yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward and tucking his chin in your shoulder.
you swear your world stops for just a second. you’re hardly even aware that he’s leaning on you now.
"yeah as in?"
“i’d like you to take you out for a real date. if you’ll let me.”
you pull away to look at seungcheol. he’s blushing, but he’s not looking away.
"if i'll let him, he says."
"well?" seungcheol lifts a hand to fix your hair.
“this isn’t a joke?”
he steps back and rubs his face, probably in an attempt to brace himself for whatever he wants to say. it doesn’t work. you like him like this, you think. with his hair messy and his eyes shy.
“of course not. i’d never joke about something like this. especially when it’s you.”
you should be the one who's shy and blushing, and yet there's nowhere else you'd rather look. “what made you…”
seungcheol takes your hands. they're a warm contrast to your cold ones. “i’ve been wrestling with it for a while, and i never told you because i didn’t want things between us to be weird. but i couldn’t keep faking it after i saw you tonight. you look so good, it’s been killing me.”
you shake him off to loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, feeling a bit braver. “so if i told you i wanted to leave right now…”
he swallows loud enough for you to hear. “we’d be out of here right now.”
you stand on your tiptoes to bring yourself to his height and place a little kiss on his nose.
he pouts. “that’s it? that’s all i get after confessing to you?”
“i don’t want our first kiss to be in front of an audience, cheol.”
seungcheol smiles. “fair. but i don’t know how much longer i can wait now.”
“you’re going to have to ask me out for real, you know.”
“but you haven’t told me you like me back yet,” seungcheol says. you can hear the whine in his voice and it makes you laugh a bit.
“you need to hear me say it?”
“of course i do! i've spent weeks thinking about tonight.”
“aren't you lucky, then?" you tease.
“the luckiest,” he says solemnly.
it's your turn to blush now.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi
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honeyxbee · 1 month ago
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Auto Repair Shop
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Draken x fem!reader
Day 22 ― Cheirophilia TW: NSFW, cheirophila words: 613
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You really should just get a new car.
It's no secret that your current one is a piece of shit ― hell, it's a miracle if it makes it through a month without breaking down on the side of the road or needing some part replaced. Yet, for some reason, you can't bring yourself to trade it in. Maybe it's some strange sense of nostalgia? Or perhaps you've just gotten so used to it that you can't be assed to actually look for a different car.
Either way, you're pretty sure your wallet hates you. It really would be better to just bite the bullet and buy a different car.
But then you wouldn't be able to see your favorite mechanic anymore.
And that in itself is enough to make you quickly wave off the thought.
"You really should just junk it," Draken says bluntly. He doesn't even bother pulling it inside the garage, already having a pretty good idea of what's wrong with it based on how it sounded when you pulled up. He raises the hood, tsking when he sees steam rise in the air. He's quick to wave it away with his hand. "At this point, you've spent more on parts than you did when you bought the damn thing."
"Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad, is it?" you pout, watching him grab a wrench from his toolbox. He raises an eyebrow at your question, shooting you an incredulous look that makes you giggle. Your eyes can't help but linger on how big his hands are, his long slim fingers effortlessly wrapping around the tool. You wonder how they would feel gripping the plump of your thighs, what sensitive areas those fingers could discover while plunged deep inside your gummy walls.  Just the thought makes you want to salivate.
"-Anyway, I really would start looking for something different. It looks like it's on its last legs, and I don't want you ending up broken down somewhere on the side of the road with no way home." His words bring you out of your thoughts, and you shoot him a playful smile.
"Aw, are you worried about me?" you tease.
His cheeks tinge the slightest bit pink, though it's quickly hidden as he lets out a small grunt and ducks his head under the hood of your car. "I don't want anyone to end up stranded on the side of the road; it's a pain in the ass," he says. As he focuses on the parts beneath the car hood, your eyes subtly scan over him, taking in the dragon tattoo on the side of his head. You wonder when he got it, what the story behind it is.
Though your eyes quickly return to his hands, the veins visible beneath the skin as he tightens some of the bolts. A part of you is tempted to reach over and trace them, to feel his hands flex beneath your touch. Would his hands be rough from years of manual labor, or are they actually soft? Would they brush over your skin gently while he made love to you, or would they leave behind marks after he fucked you until you couldn't remember your name?
After a moment, he notices you're staring at them, and he glances over with a flash of amusement in his eyes. "Y'know.." he muses after a moment of silence, "..you tend to stare a lot." Your eyes widen slightly at his comment, your face flushing as you begin stammering out excuses. Draken just chuckles lowly, shaking his head and shutting the car hood. He leans closer to you, his warm breath fanning against your skin.
"..It's cute."
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