#i shouldn’t be getting worked up and crying over this
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I wrote a short one-shot to commemorate Catviman, because he's amazing and I love him. Thank you, @rivaerys, for letting me do something for your art! Just in time for Levi's b-day, too.
More than Just a Hobby 1.3k words, 5 min read, mostly fluff Tw: Cat-calling, short instance of being followed
“Come on, pretty lady. Where you going?”
You hugged your purse tighter across your body, walking briskly down the dark street. This creep had been following you for the past five blocks now. There was no one else around. You had deliberately avoided going straight to your house, trying to think of a way to shake the guy or at least call the cops before he caught up to you.
Damnit, where the hell was your phone?
His voice came closer than before. “I promise to show you a good time.”
You ignored him, digging through your purse. When your fingers finally brushed the glass screen, you internally rejoiced. But then, not a second later, the creep was practically on top of you. He caught your wrist and sneered in your face, smelling strongly of alcohol and cigarettes. “Whatcha got in there, huh?”
“L-Let go!”
He tightened his grip, and the thought of screaming finally came to mind, but something beat you to the punch.
Meow!!
There was a flash of black, and your stalker lurched away, screaming as a small cat latched onto his face. It yeowled and hissed, paws flying as it viciously clawed at his eyes. You stumbled back in shock, watching the man grasp and struggle, trying unsuccessfully to rip the feral cat off of him.
Then, right as you thought you might have understood what was going on, a man clad in black appeared next to you. He stepped forward and delivered a swift roundhouse kick to the stalker’s torso.
“Gwaahhh!” The stalker fell to the ground in a heap, and the cat jumped away, gracefully landing on the pavement. The man wallowed in pain on the sidewalk, clutching his bleeding face.
The events were jarring enough to make you cry out in confusion. “Oh my goodness!”
“Calm down, please,” said the man in black, adjusting his gloves. Directing your attention to him revealed a sight that you couldn’t quite believe.
There, standing with his arms crossed, was Catviman.
The mysterious hero of the city. An infamous crime fighter known far and wide. Although he worked outside the law, the police sometimes relied on him to catch the city’s toughest criminals. A few times you had been lucky enough to see the giant cat-shaped spotlight they beamed into the sky during times of need. You had pictures of it on your cell phone to show off to your friends. They would never believe this.
Catviman was…shorter than you had imagined. He was wearing his signature cat-eared helmet and red goggles over his eyes. The shine of his leather suit bulged with lean muscles, and to top off the classic Catviman look you had seen in the papers, there was a deep scowl set into his face.
It was really him.
As you searched for words to say, his cat trotted over. He leaned down to let it jump onto his shoulder, and you noticed for the first time that it was wearing a tiny white cravat.
“Are you alright?” he asked, standing up straight and reaching up to scratch the cat’s cheek. It purred and happily craned its neck to get more scritches under the chin.
This was surreal. “Uh—yeah. Thanks, for saving me.”
“Don’t mention it.” He pulled out a phone and dialed a number before putting it to his ear. “Hey, it’s me. Got another one, corner of fiftieth and Rainey.” As he went to hang up, someone shouted at him from the other line.
“Damnit Catviman! Can we have five minutes to—“
Click.
“Cops’ll be here soon,” he said, pocketing the phone. “You’ll need to give them a witness report. Shouldn’t take long.”
“Oh, okay.” You stood there in silence for a moment, still in a bit of shock. The stalker groaned, writhing in pain on the ground. Then you remembered your manners. “Is there anything I can do to thank you? I do have some cash…” You began to dig for your wallet, but he held a hand out to stop you.
“Please don’t worry about it. I’m not here for your money.”
You looked at him, a bit wide-eyed. “Then what should I give you?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded once, completely straight faced. “Positive.”
Wow, Catviman wasn’t just a crime fighter, he had a heart of gold. But even if this was just a hobby for him, you didn’t want to walk away without showing some appreciation. “Well, at least let me thank your cat for saving me.”
Catviman raised his shoulder, bouncing his sidekick slightly as he gave it a dirty look. “Psh, this guy? He gets spoiled enough with treats.”
You walked closer anyway, reaching your hand out and giving him a questioning look. “Maybe just some pets then?”
“Uh, sure.”
You let the cat sniff your fingers before going up to scratch his head. He happily closed his eyes in response, purring loudly and tilting his head when you rubbed his ears. “Aw, you’re so sweet. Thank you for saving me, Mister.”
“His name is Nightwing.”
“How cute!” You leaned in to let the cat touch his nose to yours, leaving you smiling when you turned to meet Catviman’s eyes. His gaze was intense from underneath the red goggles. You took in a breath, realizing how close you had gotten just by petting his sidekick. Catviman was really quite handsome. “Um, he’s really sweet.”
“Yeah.” His voice was deep and smooth. It gave you a sense of comfort and familiarity.
You blushed. “Can I, uh, can I give you something, too?”
“Like what?”
“A small token of my appreciation?”
Catviman stared at you for another moment, unsure of what to say. You touched his arm and leaned forward, and he tensed. “What are you—“
Before he could react, you planted a soft kiss on his cheek. One fit for a hero.
Catviman huffed as you pulled away, rubbing his cheek as the other one turned a shocking shade of pink. “That’s…you didn’t have to do that.”
“But I wanted to. It’s the least I could do.”
“Tch, alright.”
He regained his poise and met your gaze, and you felt a tug at your heart. Something about this mysterious masked man enticed you beyond words. Maybe you could ask for his number, just in case you needed to call him, with an emergency of course.
A police siren chirped, and red and blue lights flashed brightly throughout the street. You turned to watch a cop car pull up next to the curb. Two disgruntled officers climbed out and began to walk over.
“You alright, ma’am?” one asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.” You turned to give Catviman the credit for your well-being, but the street was empty save for your stalker.
Catviman was gone.
—
That night, you dreamed of a cat-eared helmet and a tiny cravat, and of getting to thank Catviman with a proper kiss. His strong arms would have wrapped around you, holding you in a safe embrace as his lips met yours over and over again. Just like the romantic scenes in the superhero movies.
But maybe he was destined to be the one that got away.
Nonetheless, in the morning you felt incredibly happy. Thankful to just be safe, and to know that someone amazing had saved you, even if he didn’t share the same interest you had for him.
When you walked into the break room at work, itching to tell someone your story, you were ecstatic to see your favorite cat-loving coworker making his morning tea.
“Levi! You’ll never guess what happened to me last night.”
He turned, leaning on the counter with a mug in his hands, and he gave you that signature bored look. “Please make it interesting this time.”
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…catviman
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman#levi fanfiction#levi fanart#aot fanfiction#catviman#fluff#levi fluff#levi ackerman fluff#aot fluff#levi x you#tw catcalling#tw stalking
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The Babysitters Club
Babysitter Schlatt x Babysitter Reader Headcanon
Had a quite a bit of fun writing this one, paternal Schlatt really gets my heart going LMAO
Enjoy!
You and Schlatt were best friends in high school, and being best friends with a future entrepreneur only meant one thing–you were in for a LOT of money making schemes
“Well, we tried the lemonade stand, got told we’re too old…got fired from our bodega jobs for goofing off too much…what is there left for us to do?”
You could see the gears in Schlatt’s brain begin to turn, as all of a sudden he perked up. He came up with something
“Hmm…you like kids, right (Y/N)?”
“Uhh…I guess you could say that? Why?”
“I know the perfect business for us.”
Lo and behold, Schlatt and Co.’s Babysitting Service was created
Schlatt would arrange a babysitting schedule for you, and most of the time you would go out on your own, babysit the kids, and split profits with him for managing your schedule
Sometimes, though, depending on how many kids were in one home, or how many sessions you had in a day, Schlatt would step up and give you a hand
Today was one of those days, as he scheduled you to solo-babysit one toddler from 12 to 3, but at 5:00? You had 5 children to keep an eye on, one who was only a few months old and the eldest being 9-almost-10 years old
Knowing you’d have your work cut out for you in the beginning of the day, chasing a toddler around a park while Mom and Dad were at a meeting, Schlatt decided he would be a kind best friend and boss and help you out
Not to mention, this was an overnight babysitting venture, and Schlatt was looking for any opportunity to spend a little extra time with you
“So, how was the kid this afternoon?”
“Good! He just wouldn’t stop running around, I felt like I was chasing a dog all afternoon.”
Schlatt knocked on the door to your next house, the parents frantically opening the door, rushing you in to give you the basic breakdown before rushing out
“If you need anything, there’s our emergency contact numbers posted on the fridge, there’s a binder of basic information on our little monsters on the wet bar in the kitchen, next to that is some money to buy a pizza for dinner tonight. Need anything, call Grandma, she lives up the street. Thanks, see you both in the morning!”
They practically ran out of the house, as you heard the 5 month old let out a whining cry, and the two eldest children began running laps around the two of you
You looked at Schlatt, your eyes wide, this was definitely going to be your biggest challenge yet
“You take the youngin’s, I’ll take the older shits?”
“Yes, please!”
You made your way over to the crib, which housed the 5 month old, and sitting next to the 5 month old inside an adjacent playpen were a 2 year old and a 5 year old, playing with various toys
You picked up the 5 month old and instinctively began to rock the baby, making small talk with the other two kids about what toys they were playing, and other things they generally seemed interested
“Is screen time okay for these two, or are we going the organic, touch grass way with these rugrats?”
“Hmmm, check the binder. Mom and Dad probably have rules about screen time, maybe after dinner?”
You heard the two kids, and Schlatt, let out a sigh of disappointment, as you watched Schlatt convince the two boys it was perfect baseball weather, and out they went
“Say, girls, do you want to go and play with some of your patio toys? It’s such a gorgeous day out, we shouldn’t waste daylight!”
You were met with many tiny “yes”s, walking with the baby still wrapped tightly in your arms
You and the girls began to play with some of the chalk they had laying out on the patio pavement, teaching the girls how to draw out squares for hopscotch, telling them how to play
You couldn’t help yourself from sneaking glances every once in a while to Schlatt and the other two kiddos out on the lawn, Schlatt tossing low balls to the boys, acting like they knocked them out of the ballpark and insisting they “ran the bases” around him
A smile crept up on your face, you began to grow a little jealous of whoever would be spending their lives parenting with him
“Man, you like him don’t you!”
You whipped your head around, seeing the 5 year old staring at you, as her 2 year old sister stood behind her, snickering
“W-what? Absolutely not, we’re good friends. What do you know about liking someone, hmm?”
“That’s the same look my mommy gives my daddy every single day!”
You felt your cheeks begin to heat, needing to figure out a way to avoid these two little children from grilling you any further
“Girls, why don’t we go in and get you cleaned up, you’re covered in chalk. Maybe we can see what’s in your cupboards and make ourselves a little treat, huh?”
The girls were eager to do so, running past you and into the house
The little one in your arms wound up a bit fussy, so you placed her into
All washed up and ready to go, the girls drug you over to a box of cake mix, insisting that you help them make cupcakes
You didn’t want to use anything without permission, though, so you sent a quick text over to mom and dad to make sure they were okay with you using the box mix with the kids
They were ecstatic you weren’t just shoving their tablets in their faces, so they absolutely allowed you to bake with them
The girls were excited, donning their little aprons they had stored in the pantry
Baby started to get interested in what was going on, peering over the edge of the playpen, so you picked her up and carried her (and a toy, just in case) over to a high chair in the kitchen
The girls excitedly showed you were everything was that you would need, and you let them have total control over adding things to the mixing bowl (fishing out egg shells, when necessary)
By the time the cupcakes went into the oven, the boys came walking into the house, dirty and sweaty, and their pants definitely stained from sliding in the dirt outside
“Schlatt!”
“What? He needed to slide into home plate, otherwise he would’ve gotten out! You wouldn’t understand!”
Despite the unexpected bath times, the rest of the night went rather smoothly
Schlatt and yourself wrangled the kids together for some pizza dinner, allowing them to decorate their own cupcakes for dessert afterwards, and once their bellies were all full, it was time to wind things down for the night
You tucked the baby into her crib, heading to the girl’s room to tuck them in and read a little story to them
On your way there, you glanced into the boy’s room, seeing Schlatt making sure that both the 7 and 9 year olds were set and ready for bed, telling them tales from his baseball experiences (he was the best first baseman in your school, after all)
You didn’t want to get caught staring, so you continued forward and to the girl’s room
You helped the two put on their pajamas, tucking them in their beds before sitting in the rocking chair by both of their beds, having “Goodnight Moon” picked from the shelf to read tonight
“Goodnight stars, goodnight air…Goodnight noises everywhere!”
By the time you finished, both girls had their eyes closed tight, peacefully asleep
You smiled to yourself, content with how the evening has gone, looking up to see Schlatt leaned against the doorframe, the same smile painted on his lips
Heat crept up your cheeks as you placed the book back on their bookshelf, heading out of the room and downstairs to the living room with him
“So…that wasn’t so bad after all, huh?”
“Well, toots, we sure do make a pretty good team…”
He slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer
“Y’know…I think I saw a new side of you today. You playing ball with those two…I never seen you so…soft before.”
“What can I say, baby, kids have a special way of makin’ a person soft...”
He hesitated continuing, but your raised brow made him go on
“And…seeing you with that baby on your hip, the girls in the kitchen…you’re gonna be a perfect mom some day, (Y/N).”
You began to blush, looking up at him, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were
Before you could ask, Schlatt excused himself to the kitchen, coming back with two cupcakes in his hands, handing you one before sitting back down on the couch
“You worked hard on these with the girls, you deserve a little treat too, princess.”
He smirked, before swiping his cupcake against your nose, making your jaw drop
“Hey! What was that for?”
“Whoops, here, let me get that…”
He leaned forward, kissing the icing off your nose, his eyes plotting
“Hmm, hold on…I think you’ve got a little something here…”
You took this opportunity to smoosh your cupcake against his mouth, and before he had the chance to speak, you quickly leaned in, kissing him on the lips
He didn’t back off, answering your question from earlier as to if he felt the same
In fact, he swiftly put his cupcake down on the coffee table in front of you, grabbing your cheeks to deepen the kiss
“Ewww!”
“I told you so! Mommy and Daddy do the same thing after we bake together!”
You quickly backed up, looking up the stairs to see all 4 of the kids out of bed, peering over the banister
“Little shits, I swear to God…”
You laughed, wiping the icing from your face before heading upstairs to put all the kids back into bed, making sure they stayed asleep this time, before heading back downstairs to see Schlatt fast asleep on the couch
Sighing contently, you crawled onto the couch next to him, placing your head nearby his chest before slowly falling asleep yourself, feeling an arm wrap around you to pull you closer
#jschlatt fanfic#schlatt x y/n#schlatt x you#schlatt fanfic#schlatt fic#schlatt#jschlatt x you#schlatt x reader#jschlatt#jschlatt x reader#jschlatt x y/n#chuckle sandwich#chuckle sammy#chuckle sandwich x reader
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if he wanted to he would
#read that line multiple times#i shouldn’t be getting worked up and crying over this#if he wants to then he would its simple#and i’m not gonna force things
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Brb gotta just yell into the void
#GOD IM JUST#so both Q and I were under the impression we would be getting help fixing the place#almost a full week later#it’s basically just been me his elderly grandma and him when hes not working#which is very little time since he’s full time#I have been working on this place from basically sunrise to sunset#doing what I can to make it clean and repaint#but I can’t do most repairs#mainly what the bathroom needs#but today#ooooooo today#Q’s parents are getting on our nerves man#we’ve been trying to explain that the bathroom is not functional in it’s current state#and instead of Q’s father#the landlord of this place who decided keeping it while living two and a half hours away was a smart idea#helping to fix said bathroom#says he’d rather work on the living room floor which is the lowest priority#and when we expressed this to them#his mother goes#if you don’t like it you can go live somewhere else#EXCUSE ME#I have literally been spending all the time I can trying to fix up YOUR place for you two#to the point where I am now coming down with a cold and my lowing back is killing me#where Q is sacrificing every free moment he has trying to do what he can while working a full time job#and THIS is the thanks we get???????#what the hell#anyway they’re coming tomorrow but Q has work so I am going to cry#I am so exhausted and stressed if they pull some shit I might just do something I shouldn’t#I want this to be over#the second were able to afford a house we’re getting the hell out of here
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Anyways nothing in the show made me cry till seeing ekko and Mel sitting there alone and it doesn’t even have to do with powder and Jayce it’s the fact that they have to get up the next day its exhausting like there’s so much work to do.
#and sevika to a lesser extent#like it’s less sad for me bc she’s got a support group#like ig it’s bc this is moving up for her#she still has shit to get done but yknow#but for Mel and ekko#she’s gotta deal with being an actual ruler now these new abilities and what they mean#she might be glancing over her shoulder everyday bc what if there’s another black rose#and ekko#man he’s still gotta figure out his tree#and they still have to keep it pushing bc ok fuck playing into the council I hate that sorry#but there’s just so much fucking work to do after 10 minutes of relaxing#and it’s like#idk how to feel about arcane like idk#it feels the same a oitnb to me#commentary on no happy endings but it just so happens the main white characters got theirs#even that jinx lived theory grinds my gears bc it’s like#ofc mel and ekko got the short end of the stick. writing and fandom wise like always#and it’s like the show touches on certain things and can’t follow through bc nobody actually cares about black characters and their stories#but also if this is just expanding into wider lol lore it’s like#having the stories set up or finish in a#I don’t wanna say unsatisfactory but like in a way where it’s real#the ball keeps rolling#that’s cool#but it’s not even that it’s just. more care ig#yeah. I want more care for black characters#I wish whoever fought for cait and vi playing house or saw it as a deserved ending or whatever#someone who decided that mel shouldn’t have finished sitting there alone#that maybe ekko deserved to lay down and sleep even if he cried#like it doesn’t have to be a happy ending. if ekkos last scene was just him sobbing over what he lost it’d feel different#but it’s not in his nature to be that selfish. selfish enough to cry freely. free u my heart. 💔💔💔
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treated myself to the very short beginning section of three houses just now but i had to stop n turn off my switch when the game asked me to pick a house bc i started agonising over whether to go w edelgard first or just jump straight into the claude route
#x#fe posting#everyone and their momma says to leave verdant wind for last bc it’s the most satisfying to tie up all loose ends route#and to do azure moon or crimson flower first. bc they work better as one of the first routes#and i TOLD myself ok ok sure i’ll do edelgard first then that’s fine. i like her and a lot of the black eagle characters im sure it’ll be#fun. but meeting claude in game and giggling n twirling my hair over everything he says is KILLING MEEEEEE i can’t abandon him i can’t IM#GONNA FEEL SOOOO BAD#he’s so charming crying real tears rn. i Know what i need to do but man…. pain n suffering …#i remember seeing a take somewhere once that said smth abt how claude gets so permanently shut out of the true potential of his goals on any#route that doesn’t pick him bc he doesn’t get the chance to really establish himself / figure out all the secrets of the game#and so he’s just narratively. barred/locked out from his dreams for good. and ever since i read that it makes me wanna crawl up n DIE when#i think abt it CLAUDE. CLAUDEEEEEEEEEEEE 😭😭😭😭😭😭#also just in general he’s SOO funny and quirky i love him so much he only said like maybe ten lines total but he’s literally such a riot#playing the game while knowing what his entire deal is is HILARIOUS he’s so fucking funny. and painfully tragic even from the get go. AUGH#one of his first things being calling himself the embodiment of distrust is so. it’s just so!!!!! like he WANTS u to know it’s all an act#EVERYONE knows it he’s not being subtle at all BUT THATS THE POINT!!!!! bc if everyone knows it’s an act that he plays around w then they#wont go snooping around as much!!!! AUGHHHHHHHHH !!!! CLAUDE !!!!#im going crazy i shouldn’t have played this i need to finish my last assignment first. n then i can lose my mind over claude#OHHH also can i just say his + edelgards first interactions are SOOOOO funny they’re so much fun. i love their little banter n back n forth#literally iconic showstopping no one can top them EVER#anyways. it’s almost 3am i need to sleep n write my essay tmrw lol
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Do I have to start saying not that anyone would care in that super duper passive aggressive way to guilt people into caring or what
#dora daily#I’m so tired#the one thing I’ve consistently wanted since I was a kid was to be cared about and seen 😜#yet I can’t even seem to get that ☠️ I honest to god am so tired like every day is another futile attempt to try to engineer what I say#specifically for the purpose of me hoping someone ANYONE would care#how I used to be sick when I was younger because I saw that the kids who would get sick or would get sad would get sm care and love but#I was stupid because I didn’t account for the fact that when I was sick I had to just suck it up or when I was sad I need to stop being such#a crybaby and get over it#what if I say I’ve had enough of just being shamelessly used by others for me to comfort them through their problems#but I always have everything thrown back at my face because somehow when it’s my turn my problems are uncomfortable or awkward#I don’t have energy for a single thing yet I force myself to talk to at least one person and trying to fix my relationship with just#literally talking it shouldn’t be that hard but I feel so worthless that even speech is impossible and makes me feel like I will literally#die. it’s been working kinda but now I just can’t help but feel so sick to my stomach about all this my head hurts really bad and I’m trying#not to cry and trying my hardest to make peace with the fact that in truth nobody will ever like me enough to care at all ever#not my mum not my dad or my siblings and certainly not my friends either#I’m so tired of always begging and pleading for someone to just notice I’m here too#or maybe it’s specific people#it’s so cruel to say all those overly nice things to me and not act on them#why else was I so psychotic about that girl ? obviously because she would shower me with the nicest things I’ve ever heard#but she says that to everyone she’s not consistent with me and we aren’t really friends#ik it wasn’t her intention but it doesn’t change the fact I have wanted to and I’m not even over exaggerating but actually off myself#because this is just proof I’m around to serve people’s dirty work and clean messes when I can’t even stand on my two feet anyways#isn’t it so stupid I’m just talking to myself here and most likely nobody will ever see it meaning this was just useless yet again#and the fact i can’t be free ever nor can i do anything about this to permanently end things because i am a coward and because the worst#part is that even after death I shall be tormented anyways#and let’s say I somehow survive an attempt I will literally be scarred for life and then I’d rlly want to be dead#it’s the way not even death can be a solace for this because there would only be more torture#I can’t leave this religion because leaving won’t change the truth but I’m so tired and worn thin of every single responsibility in my life#even tho I don’t have much the few I do have feel excruciating#life is too much and death is worse so why couldn’t my mum who’s strong willed said no to my dads family and not gotten married period 🧍♀️
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EAT IT !! — JUJUTSU KAISEN
( TW ) f!reader. cunnilings. panty sniffing. tongue fucking. overstimulation.
FEATURING. Geto Suguru. Gojo Satoru. Toji Fushiguro.
authors note. short n sweet because I’m fighting the worst cold of my life rn
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☾ GETO SUGURU
“Gotta get ready for work, Sugu.” You whisper between the heated kiss. “Ten minutes baby, all I need.” He grins into your mouth before moving to trail kisses down your naked body. He stares up at you with mischievous eyes as he kisses down your stomach before disappearing under the duvet cover. You bite your lip in anticipation as Suguru slowly spreads your legs open. You arch in surprise when he spits on your pussy and before you have time to comprehend what he’s doing he lowers his head and covers the entirety of your pussy with his mouth. You gasp, back arching higher off the bed when he slurps at your juices. “Pussy tastes s’good baby.” Suguru praises, trying suck at everything he can get in his mouth. “Mm—you eat me so good Sugu.” “Oh yeah? Why don’t you thank me then?” He bites down one of your swollen lips between his teeth. “Suguru!” “Say thank you, baby.” He laughs, letting go to give the other the same treatment. “Thank you, Thank you Sugu!”
☾ GOJO SATORU
“Look how fucking perfect you look, angel.” Satoru groans into your panty-clad pussy, grip tightening on your thighs. “S-Satoru!” You cry, your hands gripping the counter behind you as your boyfriend lifts one of your legs onto his shoulders. “Fuck angel, you smell so fucking good. Wanna stay down here forever.” Satoru mumbles into your pussy before taking another big sniff. He exhales and places another kiss over your panties before moving them to the side. “Pretty, s’pretty.” Satoru runs his tongue over your opening a few times before dragging his soaked tongue higher to your clit. You moan when he brings his soft lips to your clit and sucks. “Satoru, ohmygod!” You scream, throwing your head back when he chuckles into your swelling clit and starts to suck even harder. “Don’t s-stop! Don’t stop—hmm—oh!” You cry out, bringing your hands down to push his face impossibly closer to your clit. “m’gonna cum Satoru!”
☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO
“No more Toji!” You cry, trying to pull him from the spot between your legs. “No.” He lifts his soaked face to grumble and move your hands. “One more.” You throw your head back and cry when he says that. You shouldn’t have told him you couldn’t come from head. “Color?” “G-green.” You could take one more, you weren’t gonna tap out now. “Good girl, now m’gonna make you come with just my tongue.” He explains, dragging his tongue up your overstimulated pussy. You hiss at the feeling, hands going back to his hair. Toji drags his tongue up and down your pussy a few more times before bringing it to your hole. He pushes it in. You moan thighs clenching around his head. “Too much—‘s too much!” You scream when he picks up the pace, tongue fucking you faster—better—than most of the men you’ve fucked. “gonna cum again!” You scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your pussy contracts on Toji’s tongue.
#.satoruan writes#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#geto x reader#gojo satoru#gojo smut#geto smut#geto x y/n#geto x you#toji x y/n#toji x reader#toji x you#toji smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk smut
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as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 2
LN x fem!leclerc reader
PART 2 OF 2 -> read part 1 linked HERE!
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here we go again guys, you know the drill! follows directly on from part 1 because of the silly word count :(
warnings: warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!)
part 2: 6.1k words
8. i have you.
“you never told me why.” lando blurts.
the sun is setting outside, the pair of you sprawled out over your hotel bed. he’d been in your room for a few hours, tangled with you between the linen sheets. it’s thursday in brazil, and he’d made a beeline for your hotel room after media day wrapped up. he couldn’t explain the anxiety he felt, pooling thickly in the pit of his belly, but it subsided as soon as he saw your pretty face, peeking through the crack in your door.
he’d stayed after, a habit that had been developing of late, when you were both at home in monaco, but it was unusual on a race weekend. you’d pulled out your laptop to do some work, and chucked the remote at him, telling him to put something on netflix. he’d just smiled and obliged, more than willing to stay with you.
“told you ‘why’ what?” you look up from your laptop, confused.
“why you haven’t really been with anyone else.” his voice is small, scared he’s overstepping but he figures he’s seen you naked one too many times to get shy.
“oh.”
you stare off into the dim light of the room for a second, collecting your thoughts, reliving it all.
“you don’t need to tell me, sorry if that was weird-“
“no, uh, it’s fine. it’s a bit tragic really, embarrassing.” you start. “there was a guy, a couple of years ago. he was on my course at uni. he was perfect, flowers on my doorstep once a week, romantic dinners overlooking the harbour.” you reminisce, smiling sadly. “we went on a few dates and he was selling it all perfectly, it was like he was telling me everything i wanted to hear. i trusted him, so i slept with him. it was my first time.” your breath hitches. “next thing i know, he’s telling everyone that will listen that he’s best friends with charles leclerc and that he’s fucked an f1 drivers sister. and, you know, monaco is small. charles and arthur beat the shit out of him.” you laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, which are now glossed over with fresh, stinging tears.
lando slides closer to you, tentatively wrapping an arm over your shoulder.
“it’s always been hard, you know? people trying to get close to me so that they could get close to charles. all my life, it’s been the same shit. i just wanted someone to want me for me, just once.”
you’re crying now, and lando wants to die for causing it.
“hey, ‘m so sorry, honey. i shouldn’t have asked.” he shushes you, pulling you close. he kisses the top of your head gently, and you snuggle further into him.
“no, it’s okay. wanted you to know. that’s why i like this. us.” it comes out just above a whisper.
“that’s why i like us too.” he murmurs. you look up at him, scanning his face.
“what’s your story? charles said something to me once about a bad breakup.” you ask softly. lando sighs.
“she wanted the lifestyle more than she wanted me.” he shrugs.
“i’m sorry.”
“don’t be. i’m better off.” i have you, he wants to add.
“i like the fact that we can’t hurt eachother that way.” you breathe, voicing the sentiment that you’ve both shared since the very first time you were together.
“i like it too, honey. more than you know.”
-
9. ache.
a weight lifts off of him in vegas.
brazil had been a shit show, one that he wanted to forget. one that left him awake for two days avoiding your calls, until you snapped him out of it by showing up at his place anyway, and giving him the best head of his fucking life. he’d slept like a damn baby after that.
he had a week off, after, which he spent in your bed more than his own, and then he was promptly off to nevada, awaiting your arrival a few days later and fixated on clawing something back after brazil, even if it was just pride.
well, that fixation didn’t amount to much, but at least you were there, somewhere, watching and waiting. charles is a wreck, though, storming away from parc ferme, which means you’ll be with him, instead of with lando. he feels selfish at the way it stings.
he’s exhausted when he leaves the track, dead on his feet in the elevator up to his room. he can’t bring himself to join max or george and celebrate. he’ll make it up to both of them another time. his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, recognising your contact. he doesn’t even fight the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.
packed something special for you. you gonna come find out what?
he’s in love with you. has been for a while.
the attention you pay to him for himl, the way you tease him and laugh with him and let him lose himself in unravelling you. your quick wit, mesmerising eyes, the way you switch languages when he scrambles your brain and you can’t think hard enough to keep speaking english. he’s a goner, and he knows it.
he doesn’t bother replying, just makes a beeline for your room. he’s spent enough time in it already this weekend to make it there without much thought. you’d even left him a keycard, which he retrieves with nimble fingers from his wallet, letting himself into your suite.
he calls your name, rounding the corner and he could die right there, just at the sight of you.
you’re lamplit, knelt on the middle of your bed, wrapped in nothing but intricate, baby pink lace.
“my god.” he pants, jaw dropped. you’re ethereal, gorgeous, a delicate gift wrapped up just for him to open.
“do you like it?” your eyes are wide, daunted.
“what the fuck did i do to deserve you?” he stalks to the end of the bed, shrugging off his jacket, his hoodie, until he’s left in a white vest and team joggers. he kneels down at the foot of the bed, ready to crawl over you. “i love it.”
you flush, grinning sweetly as he crawls over you, pushing you back into the mattress.
“you did this all for me?” lando asks, stroking over a lacy bra strap.
“thought you deserved it.” you purr, but your facade slips for just a minute. “is this okay? never done this before.” you glance up at him with round, doe eyes that make him swallow hard, melting further into you.
“‘s perfect.” he promises. “you’re so perfect.”
lando kisses you softly, his warm skin pressing into yours. you moan quietly into his mouth, holding him close. he thumbs over the lace adorning your bust, stroking it. you squirm every time he brushes your skin.
“wanna be on top. wanna try it.” you pant into his mouth, watching closely as he groans, eyes fluttering as he imagines the sight.
“only if you keep this on.” he bargains, flipping the pair of you over.
you sit up on his lap, smoothing your hands over his chest as his find your hips. he steadies you, playing with the band of your panties, tracing over the pattern.
“can’t believe you did this all for me.” lando coos, taking the opportunity to take it all in, you, flustered and breathtaking, straddling him. dressed up all for him, all his.
“you deserve it.”
“do you think you’re ready for me? lemme see.” his hand skates between your thighs, pressing the pads of his fingers against the crotch of your underwear. he applies pressure against the wet patch that he feels, licking his lips. “were you thinking about me when you were getting all dressed up? thinking about how i’d touch you?”
“yeah,” you nod frantically, grinding down on his fingers. “wanted you all day but i wanted to be good for you.” you pout. you’re gonna kill him, he thinks.
“always good for me.” he applies more pressure, toying with your clit through the lace, the sensation making you quiver, bucking your hips.
“just want you inside of me, lando. i’m ready.” you plead, palming over his sweats. your hand travels further, finding his between your legs. you tug your underwear to the side, and he feels just how wet you are for him.
“you sure, baby?”
there he goes again. baby. your tummy twists.
“yeah, lan, i want it to hurt a little.” you sound so sweet for him and it shreds the rest of his self restraint.
lando sits up just enough to rip off his vest, taps your thigh so that you lift up for a second, long enough for him to shrug off his sweats. when he’s bare, he paws at your hips, helping you to adjust. your fingers wrap around his length and he jolts, mouth falling open as you swipe the head of him through your slit. you sink down, taking just the tip, but it feels like the first time all over again, the angle creating delicious pressure that burns through your pelvis. your eyes squeeze shut and he swirls his fingers over your sides.
“take it easy for me, love.” lando urges, looking up at you with concern.
“i like it. promise.” you choke out, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, the burn.
you continue to slide down on him, sinking further and further until you’re flush against his pelvis. you roll your hips experimentally, your clit brushing against the thatch of hair at his base and you squirm, sensitive.
“want me to help?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“wanna do this for you.” you pant, rocking your hips against his.
the angle is brutal, so intoxicatingly good, and you can already feel yourself leaking all over him. you build up a rhythm, slow and steady, watching the ripple of his abs everytime you sink back down on him, the way his curls fan over his forehead, the veins in his arms bulging as he grips at your waist tighter and tighter.
“you look so pretty, baby, taking me like this.” lando sighs, helping you pick up the pace. you cry out, leaning backwards, fingers gripping his firm thighs.
“it’s so good, you feel so good.” you whine, arching your back.
he’s entranced by the way your breasts bounce, fighting against the skimpy bra and he sinks his teeth into his plush bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily. one hand leaves your waist and travels to the cups of your bra, tugging so harshly that you hear the threads break. he frees your tits, watching in delight as they fall out of the lace confines.
“you’re so sexy, honey, look so beautiful. you’re all mine, aren’t you? this is all for me, right?” lando’s eyes roll back in his head when he feels the way you clamp down around him at his words. he’s gonna fill you up, he thinks, mark you as his from the inside out.
“yeah, lan, all yours.” you slur, fighting the urge to cum. “‘m all yours.”
he can see that you’re tiring, the ache setting in, so he pulls you forward, until you’re chest to chest, wrapped up his his thick arms.
“i’ve got you, baby.” he swears, holding you close as he rolls his hips, fucking up into you.
it’s all too much like this, the constant pressure on your clit, the head of his cock tapping against your cervix, the thrumming of his heart, the cold sweat of his chest peaking your nipples. you let out a strangled cry of his name, and you see white, your nerve endings overstimulated and fried. all you can hear is his voice, pulling your through it and out the other side.
“did so good for me, baby, such a good girl. took it all so well, love.”
you’re limp on top of him, a dead weight curled around him like a life force. there’s nothing that could make him move you, and wouldn’t let you go unless you asked. you lay there in silence, your mixed release leaking out of you. your heart rate steadies, about as much as it can with him around, and you feel yourself blinking away sleep, exhausted. lando notices, of course he does.
“let’s clean up.” he suggests, sitting up carefully with you on his lap.
“carry me?” you request sleepily, a lazy smile painting your face.
“as you wish.” he jokes, bowing his head.
your legs wrap around his waist as he shuffles off of the bed, and he walks to the bathroom, setting you down on the marble sink top. he leans into the shower, adjusting the temperature and turning the water on. he lets it heat up and turns back to you. no words are exchanged as he peels your ruined panties off, as he unhooks your bra and drops its all onto the counter. he tugs you off of the side, guiding your under the stream of water, the warmth making you relax into him. he’s more than happy to prop you up.
“my legs ache.” you giggle, resting your cheek against his shoulder.
“was it worth it?”
“definitely.”
“good.”
he cleans you, massaging soap into your skin, and washing it off. you stay close while he does the same for himself, passing him different products as you clean up together. it’s quiet, nothing needs to be said, and you wonder if this is what life with him would be like. domestic and easy.
“stay.” you let yourself ask, croaking the request out into the silence. you’re both drying off, and he’s gathering he’s clothes.
“i thought you’d want me to go.” he looks like a deer in headlights. cute.*
“stay.” your repeat, and this time it sounds like a plea. he slides his boxers on.
“okay.”
he’s like a furnace under the covers and you can’t help but curl into his side, legs wrapping around eachothers. there’s no going back from this, you fear. he’s thinking the same thing. you kiss his chest as you fall asleep, just a quick press of your lips to his pec, but it makes him hot all over. if the lights were still on, you’d see him blushing. he returns the favour with careful peck to your hairline. you both nuzzle impossibly closer.
“has it ever been like that for you?” you whisper into the darkness. you hear the change in his breathing.
the question is loaded; have you ever felt like this before? was that just sex to you? what are we? what is this? do you want me how i want you?
“never.” it’s barely a whisper
you fall asleep with a smile on your face.
-
when you wake up, he stirs, bronzed arms tightening around you.
“go back to sleep.” he grumbles, pulling your back to his chest.
“i need to catch my flight.” you reply, turning around to face him.
you’re stunned when you see him smushed into the pillow, lips pouty, eye lashes fluttering to clear away sleep. he looks so pretty in the morning light, and you wish you’d asked him to stay the night sooner.
“just fly with me.” lando mutters. you freeze.
“lan, you know i can’t do that. what would that look like?”
“who cares?” he half shrugs behind you, and you wriggle away, sit up in bed.
“uh, me? i care, lando. i can’t be seen flying around with some other driver, do you know how much that would complicate things?”
“some other driver.” he huffs. that gets his attention, and he sits up. “what so we can sneak around, and you’ll let me fuck you, but being on an airplane together is crossing the line?” he grunts sarcastically. you narrow your eyes at him.
“don’t say it like that.” you scold.
“how should i say it, then? i thought maybe this meant something more to you.” he’s standing from the bed now, hurt thick in his voice, and you panic, reaching out for him, but he’s finding his clothes.
“it does! it does mean something to me but… lando, i can’t put charles in that position. i can’t put myself in that position.” you reason weakly, standing and rapidly moving towards him. you pull him to face you, holding onto his shoulders. “don’t go, please.” you whisper, cupping his cheek.
he stares down at you, dejected, a wounded animal, and pushes your hands off of him.
“i, uh. i care about you. a lot. too much, i think. i can’t go through this again, and you can’t hurt your brother. so…” he breathes shakily.
“so?” you plead, shaking your head. “don’t do this, we can…”
“i’m not gonna be ‘some other driver’, honey. ‘m sorry.”
“lando-“
“its okay. this was good while it lasted, and i know you’re gonna find what you’re looking for, without all of the, uh,” he gestures around blindly. “the complications.”
“don’t go.” you whisper, catching his hand. tears pool in the corners of your eyes, distorting him.
“go catch your flight.” he smiles sadly, finally dressed, and then he’s gone.
you stand frozen, taking stock of whatever the fuck just happened.
i care about you.
good while it lasted.
you’re gonna find what you’re looking for.
complications.
you choke out a sob, stumble backwards onto the foot of your bed when it hits you.
you’d already found what you were looking for, and now, he was gone.
-
you’re supposed to go straight to qatar with charles, but you beg him to get you a flight home instead.
he can hear that you’ve been crying, and tells you that he’ll kill anyone that you need him to. you promise it’s fine, through even more tears, tell him that you’ll fill him in when he’s got a minute to breathe.
the ticket lands in your inbox and you flee. you spend the twelve hour flight watching love actually, crying into a glass of wine, and wondering if you should get gracie abrams’ lyrics tattooed on your forehead.
i love you, i’m sorry would be quite fitting right about now.
when you land, you don’t even go home, making a beeline for alex and charles’ apartment instead. when alex lets you in, confused to see your face, leo does laps around your feet. you drop your bags and fall into her arms, sob until your throat is raw and your eyes are bloodshot.
“i fucked up.” you wail, breathing hard.
“lando?” she asks, tentative. she has a knowing look, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head.
“what? how did you-“
“well let’s just say that we saw the DM he sent you, and arthur was actually sat opposite me when you said you were with him.” she admits. you gasp.
“does charles… does he…?”
“oh, sweetie, charles knows nothing. although he did ask me what shoe size you wear after coming to your place a few weeks back. he said something about a pair of birkenstocks that looked huge compared to your other shoes, and i told him that was just the style.” she snorts, and you slap your hand over your forehead.
“oh, jesus.” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.
“wanna tell me what happened?”
“i don’t even know, he asked me to fly with him and then i said it would complicate things, that i couldn’t been seen with, quote on quote, ‘some other driver.’” you sigh.
“some other driver? oh, girl.”
“yep.”
“were you guys dating…? or?”
“no! lately things had been a bit more,” you pause, gathering your thoughts. “intimate? i don’t know. i definitely have feelings for him.”
alex looks at you sympathetically, strokes your knee soothingly.
“have you told him that?”
“no, i didn’t know how and now he’s done with me.” you wince, a fresh wave of tears pricking your eyes.
“maybe not, sweetie, maybe you if you told him how you felt, he’d understand. is charles what you’re worried about?”
“charles, the fans, all of it.” you whimper.
“the fans can be, well, intense, but take it from me, if lando’s worth it, none of that matters. is he worth it?”
you pause, weighing it all up. the way he’d been with you, so gentle and caring, considerate and interested in you. he’d made you feel safe and satisfied, and everytime you caught him looking at you, you felt that first initial spark all over again. you could laugh with him, push and tease and not just be charles leclerc’s little sister. you look forward to seeing him, feeling him, speaking to him. all of this together feels heavy, but you want to bear it.
“he is.” you whisper, looking at alex nervously. “oh, god, what do i do?”
“i think there’s a paddock pass with your name on it that you should make use of.” she tells you, wrapping you in a tight hug. “and if charles has a problem, tell him he has to go through me.”
-
10. pizza and pasta.
max fewtrell sips his coffee in the hotel lobby, waiting for keegan to join him. it’s hot in qatar, dry and bright, ornate.
his phone buzzes.
message request from: yourusername
HI SORRY ARE YOU IN QATAR????
he probably looks like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his skull.
another message comes through.
this sounds insane and i’m sorry that this is like, the first time we’ve ever spoken, but i need a huge favour. like a really really huge favour.
max scratches the back of his head, pulling a face at his phone. baffled wouldn’t even begin to cover how he feels.
he picks up his phone, and opens the messages.
-
lando over exerts himself keeping away from you. the sprint race had been a breeze compared to staying away, out of your reach. it hurts like hell, but it’s a necessary evil for both your sakes.
he wants to sleep, do nothing else but collapse onto his mattress, phone silenced and curtains drawn as tightly shut as they can go. he unlocks the door to his hotel room. the light flashes green, and he relaxes, finally. until, he doesn’t.
there’s a faint sound coming from down the short corridor that separates his front door from his sleeping area. it’s not max, he’s just left him outside his own hotel room, and it’s not keegan, either, for the same reason. he wonders if he has another stalker, braces himself and picks up the first thing he can find. a shoe. useless, he thinks.
lando creeps down the corridor, poised and ready, jumps out of his skin when you round the corner before he can get there. you yelp, bracing yourself against the wall.
“what the fuck, i thought you were a murderer!” lando huffs, throwing his head back.
somehow, the sight of you is worse than any murderer could ever be.
“putain! god, i’m so sorry! so sorry!” you squeak.
“how did you get in here?”
“funny story,” you tilt your head to the side, trying to look harmless. “max let me in.”
“verstappen?” lando asks, face twisting with confusion.
“no, idiot. fewtrell.” you reply, duh-like. “i can go, i know this is crazy and weird and a total violation, but i had to talk to you.” your voice softens and lando seems to finally relax. he’ll kill max later.
“this is batshit, actually, but i respect the grind.” lando shrugs. “what do you want?” he sounds harsher than intended, closed off, but you suppose you deserve it.
“i’m sorry about what happened last weekend.” you inhale shakily. “i… i care about you a lot, too, and i have done for a while but i was too scared to say it. i realised as soon as you left that i never ever wanna hurt you like that. never want you to feel like i don’t lo- care about you… like that.” you catch yourself, not ready to say certain words. he gets the gist.
“i don’t wanna be some hookup anymore. it was fine at first, when i thought that’s all i could have from you, but i know that it’s not. i want you.” lando states, his words poignant. “whatever pace you need, whatever you want from me, i wanna give it to you.”
the space between you dissipates.
“i saw you, you know, watching me from your garage all those months ago, like you were trying place me.” your voice is barely above a whisper. “admittedly, i kinda wanted to punch you for ruining that dress, but i also, really really secretly thought you were cute.”
“well, if we’re being honest, i really wanted to fuck you the first time i saw you.” he jokes crudely, and you slap his chest. “in my defence, i was blackout drunk.”
“asshole.” you mutter. you’re so close now that his nose bumps yours.
“i think you like it.” he whispers.
“yeah, i really do.”
your lips meet his urgently, homecoming. it’s been too long since you’ve had him in your hands, touched him and felt him breathe against you. the kiss is passionate, frantic, and you know you’re in love with him. you’re certain.
-
an hour later, you’re tucked into bed with him, a movie that you’re not paying attention to playing idly on the tv. pizza crusts lay on a plate, the leftovers of your impromptu dinner date.
you’ve covered your degree, how he got into racing, what you do for work, who you’re friends are, family dynamics.
you learn that his favourite colour actually is yellow, and he learns that you’re favourite drink is red wine. he prefers pizza, you prefer pasta. you like flat whites, and he doesn’t like coffee at all.
“after abu dhabi, i’ll take you on a real date. i promise.” he sounds excited as he says it, and you melt into his side.
“oh yeah?” you ask, looking up at him, your cheeks smushed against his shoulder. he tucks your hair behind your ear, thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. he just hums in response, gazing down at you.
“gonna talk to your brothers as well.” he murmurs, dipping down to peck your lips.
“not just yet.” you whisper. he furrows his eyebrows.
“why?” he doesn’t sound upset, maybe a little deflated.
“i wanna enjoy this a bit longer, at least go on a real date before, you know, they kill you.” you keep your tone serious, holding it together well. he bursts out laughing, squeezing you closer.
“and here i was worried that you were ashamed of me.” he’s grinning toothily, boyish and pure, and you kiss him again, deeper.
“never.” you coo.
-
11. daylight.
abu dhabi is a distant memory by the time you get back to monaco. you were happy for your brother and your boyfriend.
yeah, that’s what you get to call him now.
your first date had been effortless and yet so intricately perfect, lando planning it down to the last detail. flowers delivered to you the morning of, picking you up at the door, telling you just how beautiful you looked. your table had been waiting for you, candlelit, dressed immaculately. a bottle of red wine served as the centrepiece, your favourite kind. swoon.
he orders pizza, you order pasta. halfway through, you switch plates.
you wake up the next morning in his arms, content and satiated, still bare from the night before. your phone is buzzing, stirring your both out of your deep sleep. you ignore it.
“c’mere.” he begs, breath fanning out across your neck and you wriggle backwards, further into his arms. your naked skin moulds with his, and you can feel him, ready and waiting against the curve of your ass. he’s still half asleep, and so are you, but you spread your legs just enough for him to swipe himself through your folds and slip right in.
you groan at the stretch, he shushes you soothingly, clinging to your frame. everything is so warm and heightened.
“so ready for me.” he whispers, kissing over your shoulder, hips making the most minimal, languid thrusts that make you dizzy.
“want you like this every morning.” you purr, hiking your top leg up even further. he’s basically on top of you now, his body half covering yours.
lando drags your hips back to meet his, breathing heavily against the back of your neck.
“anytime you want me ‘m here. ‘m yours.” lando mutters, eyes rolling back in his head when you clench around him. lewd sounds are exchanged between your lazy bodies, so worked up, two powder kegs desperate to explode.
it happens in waves, powerful orgasms washing over your bodies like the sunlight through the curtains. it’s bright and warm and leaves you buzzing underneath him, electrified.
“good morning.” you smirk, rolling over to face him.
he’s already sunk back down into the mattress, a satisfied grin on his face, eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheeks where his eyes have fallen shut. he looks angelic, and if it wasn’t for his devious ways, you’d hail him a saint.
“very good morning, baby.” lando pants, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“you look so pretty.” you breathe, raking your nails through his hair. he groans, shivers of pleasure radiating through his scalp and down his back.
“not as pretty as you.” he surges forward, pinning you to the bed, the pair of you a hazy mess of limbs and laughter, so wrapped up in eachother. he’s peppering you with kisses, all over you face and your chest, further and further down your body.
round two is about to commence, and you’re more than excited, ready to welcome him back between your thighs, when you both here a loud, repetitive thud coming from faraway. lando pulls back, trying to pinpoint the sound.
“is that the door?” he says to himself. “sorry, baby. need to get that.” he frowns apologetically. you sigh, waving your hand in understanding, watching as he grabs a robe.
-
charles nearly chokes on air and fury when he gets the all caps message from arthur, followed by one from lorenzo, then his publicist.
arthur: HAVE YOU SEEN TWITTER? i don’t know if i should laugh or cry
enzo: be nice to her, don’t be a little bitch
publicist: Charles, we will need to address this news immediately and conclude whether the photos are out of context or not. Meeting scheduled on the shared calendar.
first question: what fucking photos? did someone catch him picking his nose in public?
second question: who does he need to be nice too?
third question: can he not go five fucking minutes without some impending media crisis?
he opens twitter and doesn’t need to look hard, because there on his screen is a picture taken the night before of his precious baby sister, and there is lando fucking norris with his tongue down her throat.
alex asks him where he’s going, watching him storm out keys in hand. he doesn’t respond with anything but a growl and a mutter of your name. alex’s eyes go wide, reached for her phone.
to: your number
girl he knows! idk how but he KNOWS!
for once in your life PICK UP THE PHONE
JESUS OKAY i just saw twitter…
OKAY im tracking charles location rn and looks like he’s near lando’s?
MISS LECLERC PLEASE! HELLO?????
it was nice knowing you babe.
-
you pick up your phone as lando leaves the room, scrolling absentmindedly through your notifications. your interest peaks, however, when you see about a million texts from alex, and even more missed call. in fact, you have literally thousands of notifications, and your blood runs cold.
you’d been so careful last night, surely it hadn’t leaked. your blood runs cold when you open your text chain with alex. the aggressive knocking on the door suddenly makes harrowing sense and you spring from the mattress just in time to hear the front door click.
“is she here?” you hear charles bellow, voice laced thickly with anger.
“uh… who?” lando tries, he really does, but he’s not a good liar. you wince, grabbing anything to cover your dignity: lando’s sweats and a t-shirt. you scramble out of the bedroom, sliding down the corridor from the sheer speed you’re moving at.
“fucking hell.” charles sighs, wincing at the sight of you. “of all the people on the planet, you pick my rival? you pick him?” charles barks at you. you close your eyes, focusing on your breathing as your chest constricts. “i told you. i specifically told you not to mess around with him, and c’mon, i don’t ask you for much.” charles throws his hands out in frustration.
“charles, listen to me,” you keep your voice calm and steady. “we’re not messing around, we… we’re together.” you confirm, watching his jaw tick.
“together? with him? do you know how many girls probably think they’re in a relationship with him? half of the portuguese modelling industry is linked to him.” charles laughs incredulously, disgusted. your eyes narrow, watching lando crumble into a million pieces in your peripheral.
“don’t you dare ruin this for me! and how can you come into his house and speak to him that way? my god, charles, you don’t get it, do you? i can never be happy with anyone because of you! everyone, everyone, uses me to get to you and, god, i finally found someone who cares about me and couldn’t give less of a shit about who you are and you don’t approve? shall i stay single and lonely and in your shadow forever? should i go for some greasy hedge fund legacy who wants to fuck any leclerc he can get his hands on? huh? i’m sorry if you don’t approve, truly, i am, but you will not have a say in this.”
charles stays silent, as does lando, the only sound in the hallway being your heavy breathing, a symptom of your monologue. you feel the ghost of lando’s touch on your waist, soothing you from your outburst, and you lean into his touch, looking up at him. his eyes are reassuring, the only source of comfort.
charles watches intently, the silent communication between you both, and it knocks him for six. ultimately, he wants you to be happy, but it begs the question: can lando make you happy? the way you truly deserve? he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, lets out a muttered string of expletives.
“will you look after her?” he stares daggers at lando, watches the way the brit straightens up.
“i will.” lando nods firmly, eyes sincere.
“and you won’t hurt her? you won’t fuck her around?” charles looks like he’s desperately pleading, but his voice is commanding, no margin for error.
“i promise.”
“and you’ll make her happy?”
“i’d do anything for her.”
your head snaps towards lando, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking the dam. charles watches closely, steps backwards towards the door. there isn’t space for him here right now.
“okay. i- okay.” you watch the way charles backs down, and he finally meets your eyes again. “ma chére, je suis désolé.” he tells you solemnly. you nod, lips in a thin, hard line. you can feel lando nudge you forward.
“come here, loser.” you groan, opening your arms for your brother. charles meets you half way, squeezes you tight. he gently kisses your forehead and turns to leave, not before shooting lando a look that says ‘i’m watching you.’
you turn back to your newfound boyfriend, tears still falling, but you pay them no mind.
“well done, baby.” he affirms, thumbing away your tears.
“i love you, lando.” you whisper, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you.” his eyes glaze over, total adoration swirling in the pools of green.
“so glad you said that because i absolutely love you too.” he laughs, hauling you in for a kiss. it’s a mess of tears and laughter and a weird sense of serenity.
“you might wanna call your publicist. pictures of last night leaked.” you mumble against his lips.
“at least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” he shrugs. “i’ll call later. got things to do.” he picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder. you squeal, and he teasingly slaps your ass.
you catch sight of the apartment as he walks you through it, and you think about the first time you saw it, under the cover of darkness, covert and clandestine.
you much prefer it in the light of day.
you prefer lando in the light of day, too.
yourusername and landonorris just posted on instagram:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b26ea4b5392851dd5dd95375f8dedda0/57232a4c681d321a-43/s540x810/5fa78ed877228206258924a8082ca7d81733ceb2.jpg)
liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and others.
yourusername: oops!
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thank god that’s over lmfao - thank you for reading!!
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#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris angst#lando norris smau#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#f1 fic#f1 smut#formula 1 fic#formula 1 smut#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#writing things#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#lando norris oneshot#leclerc!reader#leclerc!sister
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What about a yandere playboy x revenge-driven reader?
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4c52c100e1bc6f626a22b0b89c45bf79/ce55325129606ed1-b0/s540x810/197b7e5803c91a5558a268134589d418b6f4dadd.jpg)
Yandere! Playboy is the guy on campus. How can he not be? He has everything a person could ever want. He is wealthy, handsome and has many friends. Best of all qualities; he’s great in bed.
Yandere! Playboy has been hitting beds for years now. He is young and has a right to live life to the fullest, so why shouldn’t he enjoy himself while he still can? His parents doesn’t approve of this behaviour but what can they do to stop him? Besides, he’s already told his father that he’ll find someone to settle down with when he’s older and fit to take over the company. He doesn’t want to lose the privileged life he has so it’s in his best favour to just do what his dad tells him to and find someone to marry later.
It wouldn’t reflect well on the company if its leader is a scandalous, immature playboy after all.
Yandere! Playboy who has been with most of the people on campus. The only exception are the ones he and his friends consider ‘too ugly’ or ‘just not up to standards’- which can be due to anything. It’s basically become a game by this point; who in the friend group can be the college’s number one player.
Yandere! Playboy who almost let his friend surpass him in that department. It was a close call. Good luck he found a cute girl in time so he could drive up his score just above his friend’s. He noticed her at a party. He hadn’t seen her around before so he guessed she was new. The girl looked very out-of-place, standing in a corner while everyone else were letting loose. Did she come alone? Whatever, it didn’t matter. Quickly he snatched her up. She definitely wasn’t the best he’s had, nowhere near it in fact. She was an average fuck at best. It was only after he’d brought her home and fucked her until she cried, that he realised his mistake. After the deed was done she was awfully clingy. She wrapped her arms around him and tried to nuzzle his neck, much to his dismay.
Yandere! Playboy hastily pushed her off and asked her what she thought she was doing. Confused, she responded that she just wanted to cuddle since what they did was so special. Oh no, he thought. She was one of those girls who thought hooking up once meant ‘relationship’. How could he be so stupid? He knew better than to take ‘sweet’ girls with him, they always ended up deluding themselves they were a couple. Sternly, he told her to get out. This made her confused and she wondered if she’d done something wrong.
“Yes, you’ve done something wrong.”
“What was it? Please tell me.” She whispered in a small voice.
He sneered at her. “You think we’re a couple now or some shit. Sorry to burst your bubble but we’re not together.”
The girl bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. “We’re…not? Then why would you-“
“-don’t think you’re special. I just didn’t want my pal’s fuck-score to get higher than mine and you were the first decent thing I could find.”
Afterward he kicked her out. He didn’t give a shit that she was crying. Her feelings didn’t matter to him. No one’s feelings mattered to him besides his own. It was her own fault for getting her hopes up. She was cute, don’t get him wrong. But she seemed way too much of a goody two-shoes for him.
Yandere! Playboy who went about life normally after that. Occasionally he did see his latest lay around campus but she never approached him, instead she chose to send him a sad glance now and then. Pathetic.
Yandere! Playboy had been so caught up with a bunch of school work, he swore the professors had it out for him. After all that tediousness he deserved a break. He needed to relax and there was only one way to do that correctly. Unfortunately his regular ‘buddies’ were unavaliable, he’ll have to find someone else tonight.
Yandere! Playboy who searched the room filled with dancing, intoxicated people. The constantly colour-switching lights made him dizzy. No matter how much he searched he could not see anyone who’d caught his interest. He was about to give up when someone finally got his attention. It was you. Gosh you were just gorgeous. Wow, he thought. He hadn’t seen anyone like you before. Luckily you appeared to notice him too. He seductivle licked his lips while staring into your eyes and was happy when you showed equal interest.
Yandere! Playboy who didn’t waste a minute and went right up to you. You were been hotter up close. This was going to be fun, he thought as he led you upstairs.
Yandere! Playboy was in shock. What the hell just happened? The morning light shone directly in his face but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. After he’d brought you to his room for what he’d imagined to be a usual fun night, he’d been fully surprised. You were nothing short of amazing. He couldn’t recall a moment when he’d ever felt so good. Usually he was the one to lead but you took over as if for was the most natural thing in the world. Never in his life had he been so thoroughly explored. The bruises on his body still ached when he moved.
He needed more.
Yandere! Playboy became obsessed afterwards. He had to see you again. All those years of sleeping around could never amount to the pleasure he felt that night with you and he desperately wanted to feel it again. Sadly, it was like you vanished. Did you not go to the same college? He asked around but no one knew you. Strange, he thought. Weeks passed and there was still no sign of you. He was incredibly pent up now. He had been focused on finding you that he hadn’t taken anyone home since. His friends thought he was acting way to obsessed with his random person and needed to calm down. Perhaps if he spent time with someone he’d cool off. They see him up to meet one of his regular ‘buddies’ who was more than happy to see him again.
Yandere! Playboy tried to recreate the experience with them but it didn’t work. They were all clumsy and didn’t know how to make anything feel good. He couldn’t even finish that time. Frustrated, he threw them out and told them he wanted to be alone. Why wasn’t it working? What went wrong? And why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about you? It made him want to tear his hair out.
While he was deeply grumbling about his newfound problem, he was interrupted by a knock on his door. He shouted at the person to leave him alone but the knocking didn’t stop. He ripped the door open and was prepared to scream at the other person when his eyes widened in surprise. He was speechless.
There in the doorway stood you. You gave him a wicked smile, “Can I come in?”
Yandere! Playboy practically became your dog after that. He knows your name now, (Y/n). He shudders just thinking about it. Turns out you do go to another college and you’re not the most social person which explains why no one had heard of you. Not only are you fantastic on the outside, he finds you to be a wonderful person too. The more you’ve hung out, the more he’s gotten to know about you. He currently knows these five things: you always have a way to make him laugh, you share many hobbies(some which he can’t talk about even with his closest friends), you value his opinion, never talk down to him, and he absolutely loves you.
Yandere! Playboy who immediately cuts off his previous hook ups. You’re the only one for him. There isn’t a soul out there who can be your match. All of his friends have become so annoying. All they say is about how much he’s changed and it’s crazy how he’s doing a complete 180 for one single person. He ignores them. If they can’t see how perfect you are then that’s their loss, and he can’t be friends with them anymore. The only ones happy about this change are his parents.
He recalls his father saying, “So you’ve finally decided to be a real man and stop with your foolishness.”
“Yes. I have found my one and only love, the person I’m going to marry.”
His father nodded. Yandere! Playboy smiled. He had all intention to follow up with his statement. He loved you and based of your reactions around him, he’d say you loved him too.
Yandere! Playboy who was all giddy as he waited for you at the restaurant you’d decided to meet in. You had been hanging out for months now and he thought it was time to ask you to be his official partner(future spouse). It was a perfect setting. He has brought a bouquet of flowers and put on nice clothes. The ambiance was just right.
He waited.
You weren’t there yet, but sometimes you ran a little late.
He waited some more.
You still weren’t there. That’s all right! He’ll sit there until you arrive.
He sat in his chair long enough to see the staff send him pitiful looks. Where were you? It had been far too long for you to simply be ‘running a little late’. Did you get into an accident? He prayed nothing had happened to you. Quickly he pulled out his phone and sent you a text. Or well, he tried to.
‘Unable to send message’
What? He didn’t understand. Why wasn’t his text getting through? Did you…block him? No that wasn’t possible. There was no reason you would do that. You loved him. He loved you. You wouldn’t block him. All of his attempts to contact you went into the garbage. When he called; direct to voicemail. He tried looking for you, although that proved to be a lot harder than he thought. It was then he realised he had no idea where you lived. You were always at his place and he never questioned it. He went to your college and asked if anyone had seen you but they all said they didn’t know anyone by the name of (Y/n) who went there. Did you lie about where you went to school?
Yandere! Playboy who became depressed. He couldn’t find you anywhere. You had vanished, just like before. Except this time you never came back. His head was filled with questions. Where were you? Are you safe? Why did you leave him? Didn’t you love him too? He fell into despair. His parents wanted to help him and so did the friends he abandoned for you (they came back, he couldn’t understand why), but nothing they did helped. They weren’t you.
Please come back to him, he needs you.
————
A/n: for clarification, the girl in the beginning is reader’s friend.
#yandere oc#oc#male yandere#obsessed#possesive#misstycloud oc#toxic#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere boyfriend#playboy yandere#playboy yandere x reader#Yandere playboy#yandere playboy x reader#yandere oc x reader#yandere playboy oc
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smut! 18+ below, minors dni.
thinking about ellie accidentally sending you a video of her fingering herself.
the video preview is completely dark, so you have no clue what to expect when you click the play button. you assume it’s another one of her rants - lately she’s taken to sending you clips of herself complaining about her family, work, politics. she’s sent a few videos of her trying new foods while completely obliterated on an edible, too, which you’re kind of hoping for. her eyes look so pretty all droopy and red, and she has the cutest laugh when she’s high.
but oh, no. this is… nothing like that.
you’re lounging in bed, head propped up against a pillow, when you get the notification from ellie and click to your text thread. you hit play on the video, watching with a furrowed brow as the camera moves from darkness - the forest green fabric of ellie’s duvet, you realize - to reveal her room. and it’s a familiar sight; you’ve been there a hundred times. but that’s where the familiarity ends.
because this new camera angle shows ellie naked from the waist down.
she’s flushed, her cheeks tinged the faintest shade of pink. her chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm; the light catches on a smear of wetness on her inner thigh, and you realize with a flutter in your belly that she’d been going at it for a while before she’d pulled out the camera.
“okay, fuck,” ellie pants, her voice a bit tinny through the speakers of your cell phone. she lifts one muscled thigh to her bed, which she’s standing before - right in front of the camera. your mouth goes dry as your eyes flicker over her body: heather grey tank riding up her toned hips, the faintest sheen of sweat on her chest, her thigh flexing as she spreads herself in front of the camera.
“i got close beforehand so i wouldn’t… didn’t wanna be nervous,” she says, avoiding eye contact with her phone. “but i’m - wait. why the fuck am i talking? you’re not supposed to talk in these, are you?”
blood rushes into your cheeks, warming your face until you feel like your skin is about to burn off. you should probably stop watching, shouldn’t you? you should click out of the video, pretend you never opened it in the first place. this is clearly not for you to see.
but you can’t look away.
ellie reaches her hand between her legs, and your stomach warms with arousal. there’s a flutter between your legs that leaves you squeezing your thighs together, seeking pressure.
“oh god,” ellie mutters as her fingers play in her own pussy, the lewd, wet sounds echoing. she slips a finger inside of herself, then two, her eyes fluttering shut as a string of curses leaves her lips.
she starts to pump her fingers, the heel of her hand pressed to her clit, and your breath catches in your throat when she looks up at the camera. you know she’s not really looking at you this way, but you tense up regardless. the look in her eyes is sultry, lustful, hungry.
there’s a growing damp spot on your underwear.
ellie’s getting close; her brows are pinched together in concentration, and each of her moans is more ragged and high-pitched than the last. beneath the thin fabric of her tank, you see her abs tense with her impending orgasm. you bite your lip until you’re sure you taste blood.
she comes with a shuddering cry, bicep flexing as her hand stalls between her legs. strands of auburn hair, darkened with sweat, cling to her freckled forehead. she lowers her leg from the bed and stands upright again, still panting. she reaches for the camera and the video ends.
you’re still staring wide-eyed at your phone when a series of texts come through from ellie.
oh my god
please tell me you didn’t see that
holy fuck i’m an idiot
i’m so sorry
i did not mean to send that to you. holy shit i’m sorry
your chest tightens with sympathy - you can imagine how panicked ellie is on the other line, how utterly ruined her post-orgasm bliss must be.
you type out a quick response: it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?
finding a convenient place to prop up your phone, you hook your thumbs over your underwear and tug them off, leaning forward to press record on your phone.
read part two here!
#this one’s for the night crowd#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie x reader#ellie smut#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfic#ellie x reader smut#ellie x reader fic#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie fanfic#ellie tlou#ellie tlou2#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams blurb#ellie williams drabble#ellie williams x you#my writing#kira writes
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Streamer Baby : ̗̀➛ George Russell
summary: your baby is the ultimate daddy’s girl, but when george goes off to stream she doesn’t want to find herself away from him for too long
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c5c179664e4f8e93a681929f5115c0e9/4351b43ebfe15355-10/s540x810/bb16c4fb50eb595aa82e1f7b50e1f49ac6d09033.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/abda69617998bdd942670d4f989414dd/4351b43ebfe15355-81/s540x810/d06a0ebfb845116e4b14287693da9e4dc71aba8e.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/946f80117e2361147a05418d482eff18/4351b43ebfe15355-d8/s540x810/058543ce730fc496d1dac702d4c39d0031f3de9d.jpg)
The squeals that came from downstairs immediately brought a smile to your face as you headed down to find George and your daugther running around the living room. It was typical for the two of them, charging around and causing chaos with wide smiles on their faces. Despite your constant pleas to calm things down as your daughter’s bedtime neared, George couldn’t ignore her whines to play with her and keep her entertained. They were so lost with one another that for a moment they didn’t even notice that you had walked into the room, that was until your daughter, Willow, went crashing into your leg, hitting the ground with a bit of a bump.
“Sorry love,” George smiled, walking over and picking Willow up from the ground in order to check her over.
“It’s going to take forever to get her down if she’s this giddy,” you reminded him, perching on the side of the sofa.
“Mummy, daddy kept tickling me,” your daughter complained, poking her finger into George’s cheek several times, making sure that you knew George was responsible.
“That’s because a certain someone kept climbing on me and trying to pull out my hair,” George defended, raising a questionable glance back at Willow.
“You’re both impossible,” you chuckled, knowing you had your hands full with the pair.
“But you love us,” George reminded you, standing himself up from the floor and placing Willow into your lap, making sure you had her before letting go.
“Hm, sometimes I guess you’re alright,” you teased, allowing George to press a kiss against the top of your head, and then one to the top of Willow’s. “How long do you reckon you’ll be?” You quizzed, knowing where George was heading as soon as he went to walk towards the door to your living room.
“I think Charles picked out a couple of games for us to play, we shouldn’t take long, with how rubbish we’ve all been at games recently I imagine we’ll all crash out pretty quickly.” George assured you, “but if you need me, come and get me and I’ll leave the stream.” As George went away, Willow stretched her hands out for George to come back. He poked her tongue out at her, watching as her smile grew and several giggles escaped, helped by the feeling of your hands attacking her sides.
Before Willow could cry out for him again, George left the room knowing she was still giggling and not paying attention. You moved down onto the floor to sit with her, picking up a couple of the toys that George had been entertaining her with whilst you finished your work in your office. For a while it seemed to work, but soon enough you noticed her eyes darting around the room as if she was looking for something, or someone.
“Daddy,” she muttered as soon as she met your eyes, confused as to where George had suddenly disappeared to.
“He’s playing with some of your uncles,” you told her, offering her as wide of a smile as you could make.
“Not with me?”
“He’ll play with you when he’s finished,” you assured her, scooping her up and sitting her into your lap, “why don’t you pick out a toy to play with for when daddy’s finished doing his work sweetheart?”
“I want to play daddy’s game,” Willow cried out, watching as your eyes went wide at her sudden request.
“You can’t play the games that daddy us, some of them are for adults like mummy and daddy,” you tried your best to explain to her. “I’m sure that daddy would love to play with one of your toys down here though.”
“Now?” She pushed, her impatience beginning to kick in.
“In a bit,” you sighed, almost feeling guilty that you weren’t able to keep her as happy as George seemed to. You were well aware you had a proper daddy’s girl on your hands, she doted on absolutely everything that George did, and when things didn’t go right, George was always the first person that Willow ran to whenever she felt tears threatening to spill.
Upstairs in the office that you had vacated only a few minutes earlier, George was lost in the game that he and a few of the other boys were playing. Every so often he slipped his headphones off to listen out and make sure that things were alright with you. As he went to check again, George was left confused by a banging sound that came from the other side of the door.
George stopped for a moment before excusing himself, walking over to the door. As he opened it up, two bright brown eyes stared back up at him. “Sweetheart,” George giggled as Willow innocently smiled.
“Daddy, I found you,” she proudly giggled, stretching her arms up to let George know exactly what she wanted him to do.
“I wasn’t lost,” he chuckled, kneeling down and scooping his little girl up into his arms. She rested against George’s chest as soon as he had her, cuddling into him nice and tight. George could only sigh, walking back into the room and sitting on his gaming chair with Willow against him. He didn’t have the heart to put her down, and certainly didn’t have the heart to tell her to give him some space. As much as Willow was a daddy’s girl, George was equally as obsessed with her. Although George set boundaries and tried his best to be a firm parent, he found it incredibly hard saying no to her, especially when she looked at him with her sweet smile.
George didn’t need to say anything, as soon as Willow appeared on the screen the comments on his stream began to increase. Everyone was thrilled to see her, George’s fans especially were in love with any interaction they saw between the two of them, particularly whenever George had Willow in the paddock with him with all of the cameras around.
“Lots of your uncles are here,” George grinned, placing the mic of his headphones in front of her.
“Hi,” she waved, shouting into the mic, unaware that she had just deafened all of the boys in the process.
“Sorry about that,” George laughed as he placed his headphones back on again, “this one’s a little sleepy so she’s going to stay here for a bit.”
“Such a whipped dad,” Lando couldn’t help but tease as he watched the duo on his screen, “I don’t know how your wife puts up with you.”
“Excuse me,” George sighed, shooting a glare down his camera. “I’ll have you know being a dad is the best thing in the world, you just wait, when you’ve got a baby doting on you one day you’ll understand,” he added, unaware of the many fans swooning as they watched the screen and saw George fiercely defend his family.
“You’re the best dad,” Alex interrupted, chuckling as Willow shuffled to get even closer to George. “You two have the sort of relationship I want to have with my daughter when I get older.”
“Still annoyingly cute,” Carlos interjected, “the rest of us have some catching up to do.”
“We used to always say we’d have a grid of our own children when we retired, and at the moment that’s a grid of one,” George reminded them all, disturbed by the door opening out of the corner of his eye. You let go of a sigh as you opened it up to see Willow snuggled into George’s side, watching as he smiled across at you, assuring you that he didn’t mind that she had interrupted his stream.
“Hi love,” George whispered once he had muted his mic.
“I thought I’d lost her,” you sighed, leaning against the doorframe and taking in the sight of the two of you before you.
“I think someone might have been missing their daddy,” George explained, pressing a kiss against the top of Willow’s head. “Sorry, I should’ve told you that I had her here.”
“Don’t worry, just as long as you don’t mind having her there,” you smiled back at George.
“I don’t mind.”
“Tell her that we don’t mind too,” Lando called out through the headphones having overheard your conversation.
“The boys say she has to stay,” George smiled, knowing that you couldn’t say no to those guys either. “Once she’s asleep I’ll let her rest and tuck her in when we’re finished here if that’s alright for you.”
As you noticed your little girl resting against George, you didn’t have it in you to disturb her. You’d fallen asleep enough times on George to know just how comfortable it was and so you couldn’t deprive your little girl of that comfort too.
“I’ll leave you guys to it if you’re happy,” you softly spoke.
“We’re all good, you go and get some rest.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#george russell#george russell imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#george russell x you#george russell x reader#george russell drabble#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula one#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 fic
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Can I please get the aftermath of a fight with Hotch? Maybe they’re both stressed after a particular case and things got a little heated?
ty for requesting !! fem, 1k
You hate when Hotch shouts.
Morose, you lay in a slouch on the couch with your hand between your face and the armrest, knuckles aching from the pressure. You’re attempting to self soothe, but your misery is worsened by your own ministrations, your thumb a useless thing on your cheek. You can’t do it like Hotch can. There’s no second meaning.
You assume him to be in the kitchen where you left him.
Nobody likes to fight, but you think you might be the most unwilling participant for any argument with him. He’s patient, and mellow-headed the majority of the time, so when he does get heated you can’t help thinking you’ve done something really awful.
You get the worst of worries sitting there. That you’re too much effort for him, that you don’t fit. That he’s going to realise these things and cut you loose.
Your tears are lazy. Your shoulders shudder with your breathing, but there isn't a sound to them, just heat where they well at the corner of your eye and drip over your nose. You sniffle, pressing the back of your hand to your top lip.
It’s cold in the living room. Immediately hotter when Hotch sits down beside you. You lift your head on instinct, surprised at his sudden presence, tears jolting down your cheeks like flash floods. When you realise it’s him and what you’re doing, you turn your face back to the armrest with held breath.
He hesitates for a moment.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” you mumble.
He drapes himself over your contorted frame. Arm weaving under your stomach, face pressing firmly to the nape of your neck, his right hand on your shoulder. “Don’t cry,” he says, hand working into your tense shoulder blade lovingly, his thumb drawing lines. “Don’t cry.”
“Are you still angry?”
“No,” he says, his voice ladened with a light sincerity, “I’m not angry.”
You feel like he’s holding back. Upset again, you attempt to find his hand where it’s cupping the space just below your chest and hold it weakly, smaller fingers on his, looking for a better forgiveness. It doesn’t come. You cry so much it starts to make you feel sick, and concern your weary partner, his frown getting deeper where it’s pressed to your neck.
“I’m not mad,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry for yelling, honey, is that what’s upset you?”
You just hate the idea that he could feel against you. It’s like a mixture of regret, anger, and now frustration, because you hadn’t wanted to cry at all, much less be comforted. Although, admittedly, the comforting is holding you together.
“Come on,” he says, kissing your cheek between words, “let’s sit up before you hurt your back.”
He sits back and pulls at your arm until you're sitting upright on the sofa. Your gaze falls to your legs, your hand curled uselessly on your thigh, your tears slowly pooling and falling in succession. You scrunch your face up as another wave of misery hits you.
“I’m s-sorry,” you say.
“For what?” he asks, far less emotional than you, and yet not completely stony, either.
“I didn’t mean to cry.” You bring your hand to your face to wipe at your tears and runny nose, irked, not wanting him to see you.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs.
Hotch leans down to kiss your shoulder, which works to calm you down. Another kiss to your neck and your horrible cloud of emotion starts to clear.
He can’t hate you if he’s kissing you.
“I’m sorry I made it a fight,” Hotch says, “I never would have if I thought you’d get this upset.”
“We can’t not fight just because I might cry.”
“That’s exactly why we shouldn’t. I never want to make you cry.”
“I hate when you–” You cut yourself off, the confession sure to make you look small.
“What?” he prompts gently.
“I hate when you yell because– because you never do.”
He’d only raised his voice for a few words, and it hadn’t been to your discredit, he’d been telling you to leave it alone. Perhaps if he’d been insulting you it would make sense for you to cry this much, but yelling is part of any argument. You can’t work out why it’s affected you.
“I feel so stupid,” you confess.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he says, wrapping his arm behind your back to pull you flush to his side, “I don’t know how it got so out of hand. You’re never stupid, I’m just stubborn. I shouldn’t shout.”
You twist to be facing him. He frowns at your wet cheeks.
“Do you want to kiss and make up?” you ask tentatively.
Hotch doesn’t roll his eyes or laugh at your question —he can tell you’re being serious. “Can we?” he asks, cupping your cheek in his hand.
He rubs a loving line into the side of your face, and every tight string in you is cut. You kiss him quickly, worried it’ll be a bad one, but find yourself encouraged for a longer one by his hand, your eyes squeezed closed in stress relaxing the longer it goes on. He’s gentle with you, his lips parting atop yours.
He pulls away. You hide your face in the curve of his neck.
“Can you forgive me for being cruel?” he asks quietly.
“You’re not cruel, Aaron. I hate being on a different side from you, that’s all.”
His first name makes all the difference to him. He sneaks a couple of kisses into your temple and begins to relax as you have, two sad lumps on the couch who only want the comfort of the other.
You rub loving lines up and down his side, finally feeling better as he breathes his own sigh of relief.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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Patreon commission for Anna
Request: How about something like a bunny girl ventures into a forbidden part of the forest by accident while foraging for winter, and is taken by a werewolf who has been exiled from his pack? I wouldn't mind some overstimulation, a bit of CNC, praise kink, etc. But honestly, do whatever you think works! I'll be happy with just about anything.
Bunnydoll
Werewolf x werebunny fem!reader || (light) CNC, praise kink, chasing, knotting, dom/sub dynamics, dub-con (heavy), dirty talk || tw: implied kidnapping
You were just foraging, you tried to convince yourself of that. Nothing wrong with going out of the cave when he wasn’t there. It didn’t matter that he forbid you. You were just foraging the first time he got to you, too. And then you were his. You were his mate and now the sole member of his pack. He caught you once… And he would catch you again.
You heard his howl in the distance, and you threw the basket into the ground, all your berries falling to the ground. And before you could realize, you were running.
Your paws taking you as fast as possible through the woods. But you knew you weren’t fast enough. You knew he could catch you. You knew you shouldn’t have run in the first place. He had very few rules, and one of them was no running away from him. Your bunny brain couldn’t grasp what would happen, not really. But you ran… You ran for him.
And he promised.
He promised he would catch you and he would fuck you. And you… You ran. You weren’t sure if you wanted that or not. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be caught. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to catch you… But he promised he would, and you were running through the woods with a feral werewolf on your tail. It was probably a bad decision on your part, but you couldn’t turn back now.
Your ears kept twitching trying to catch a sound in the wind, to know if he was, in fact, behind you. But you couldn’t hear anything. You couldn’t hear him, or the woods, or anything over your beating heart. The fear running in your veins was just passed by the arousal crushing your body. You didn’t want to get caught, did you? But you couldn’t ignore the fact that you did ran. Even if he promised, you ran away from him…
And you were going to pay the consequences.
You heard him before you saw him, a howl not too far away from you, followed by his words, spiking anxiety inside your trembling body. “I told you I was gonna catch you. Told you it was in vain to run…” His growl behind you made you shiver, your whole body froze in the middle of the clearing. You didn’t know where he was, but you knew he won. He caught you.
“I- I’m…” You stuttered, no words coming out of your mouth, your ears twitching again, trying to locate him in the woods. You couldn’t see him. Not hear where he was.
He laughed cruelly at your stuttering, making you shiver. “Don’t. I didn’t say you could talk, did I?” You closed your mouth audibly, silencing your pleas and your denials. “Strip. Lay down on the floor, legs up your chest, I want to see how wet you are. I want to see what the chase did to you. And I don’t want to hear a peep while you do.” His orders were enough to make you want to whine, and you did, biting down on your lip to avoid crying. Tears prickled in your eyes as you did what he asked.
You laid your clothes on the hard floor and laid on top of them, grabbing your legs and pushing them against your chest, exposing yourself completely to his eyes. You saw him then, his bloodthirsty eyes focused on your dripping center. You felt embarrassed to know what the chase did to you, and even more so when he laughed at you, approaching and dragging his claw along your wet pussy.
“I told you I would catch you. I told you I would get what’s mine.” His words sounded crazed, his fangs glistening in the night as he laid over you, your legs over his shoulders and his leaking erection right where it belonged. He didn’t wait, didn’t give you a heads up, he pushed inside you as you threw your head back and cried out. “Such a good girl.” You couldn’t avoid clenching around his length, his fangs pressing down on your neck when you inhaled harshly at his words. “I felt that, do you like when I praise you? You like to be praised like the good little whore you are? You can talk now.” His filthy words in your ear made you squirm and whimper.
You wanted to say no, you wanted to deny the effect he had in you, but when you opened your mouth to say anything, the only words that left were: “Yes, yes please.”
“Please, what? What do you want me to do to your cute bunny-pussy?” He was lazily fucking into you, not caring about your pleasure, just jerking his cock with your pliant pussy, using you like the bunnytoy you were.
“Fu- fuck me,” you told him, not a plea, not an order, but a request. His lazy thrusts were accompanied by his fangs grazing your neck over and over, right over your pulse point, making your heart skip a beat and your pussy clench around him. The danger of it, the feel of being consumed and treated just like a prey… it aroused you to no end.
He laughed at you, once again. “That’s not all you want, is it? Be truthful right now, little whore. I will give it to you, you just need to ask. Come on, again: what do you want me to do?” You knew what he wanted you to say. You knew what he was waiting for.
And you embarrassed yourself whispering: “Knot me.”
He chuckled at your pitiful voice and fucked into your with intent, his hips hitting your body and making you fold like a pretzel. “Louder,” he ordered.
“Knot me!” You screamed into the night, not worried anymore if someone heard you. He was hitting all your good places, and it wasn’t enough. You needed more. You needed all.
“That’s right, you are such a good girl. Do you deserve a knot? Do good girls deserve to be knotted?” His praise paired with his cruel tone made you whimper and try to grind your hips up to meet his. He didn’t let you, his teeth pressing against your neck and reminding you who had all the power there.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Please,” you could only beg.
“Good needy little whore. I’ll give you my knot. But first, you have to do something for me.” You felt tears running down your face as he kept fucking your pussy like you were just a toy.
“Wha- what?” You asked, desperation bleeding into your tone.
“Tell me how good it feels, tell me how good I fuck your pussy. Tell me your pussy is all mine.” You thought about it for about two seconds before realizing it might be the only way you could fight back a bit, challenge him for the power.
“It feels good,” you lied.
“Just good? Don’t be a liar now.” He laughed. “I could stop. If you aren’t enjoying it I could stop right now and leave you here, panting and desperate.”
You shook your head over and over. “No, no, no, no! I- I love it. I love your dick. I love it.” You were increasingly louder, his thrusts hitting your G-spot and his claws grazing your clit, a threat of a good time mixed with the danger of its sharpness.
“That’s a good little bunnywhore. What else?” He punctuated each word with a thrust, your eyes rolling back into your head. His questions were driving you insane, your brain could barely process anything when he played with you like that.
“My- My pussy is yours,” you let out, surrendering to him completely.
“Damn right it is. And you know what I do with my pussy?” You shook your head, tears flowing and ears twitching, your paws grabbing onto the back of his head as he whispered in your ear: “I knot it.” And then you felt the telltale sign of his knot asking for entrance, demanding it. He pushed in and out a few more times, the filthy sounds of your pussy making you blush redder and redder, your years flopping over your head every time he thrusted inside. And when his knot finally pushed inside, you let out a silent cry, your brain too gone to even produce sounds. “Keep talking, little whore. Tell me how does it feel. Does it feel good to have a big knot inside of you?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chanted. You knew he wanted words, but you couldn’t get two thoughts in a row without one of them being how great it felt to have him inside of you. “It feels great. I love it. I love your knot inside of me. I love it.” You knew you were blabbering, your words losing meaning as he ground his hips into you, his knot pushing insistently against your G-spot making you see stars and galaxies behind your closed eyes.
You felt the signs of an imminent orgasm, and you knew he did, too. “Are you gonna come? Are you gonna make a mess out of your pretty pussy? Did you ask for permission?” He growled and you felt another shoot of his cum inside of you.
Oh shit. “Can I- can I come?” You thought about it with the last functioning neuron inside your brain, the one that wasn’t being fucked out of you, yet. “Can I come, please?”
“That’s a good girl. Just because you asked nicely… You can.” You whined at his words, but he didn’t stop. “Come now,” he commanded. His voice was final and authoritative, and just like the toy you were, like the good little bunnydoll he liked to use… You did.
You came messily around him, a filthy symphony of juices as he ground his knot against your dripping wet pussy. It should make you embarrassed how wet you got, how messily you came… But you were far beyond it. You were ascending to a high so tall you didn’t know if you’d survive the fall. You were seeing stars and galaxies, and probably the origin of life as you came. You screamed until your throat was raw and no more sounds were coming out of your mouth.
He kept whispering sweet words against your neck, his fangs nipping at your skin and making you shiver over and over, aftershocks hitting your system like tiny earthquakes. “I told you not to run,” he whispered against your ear as he got up with your pussy still wrapped around his knot, bouncing you as he walked back to the cave.
Reminder that you can commission me (info here) or suscribe to my Patreon (info here). And that my second account is @whiskis
#werebunny x werewolf#werewolf#werewolf x werebunny#werewolf x you#werewolf x reader#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#teratophillia#monster x reader#monster x human#terato#monster boyfriend#werewolf smut#monster love#monster fuqqer#monster kink#monster lover#monster romance#monster smut#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft#commission
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thinking of rafe wiping your tears after a bad day
the ocean breeze was cool against your face as you sat on the beach, the salty air stinging your tear-streaked cheeks. you hugged your knees to your chest, trying to block out the whirlwind of thoughts that had been tormenting you all day. it felt like a never-ending cycle: the pouges were your escape, your freedom—but returning to the kooks, to your so-called friends, always brought the weight crashing back down.
a shadow loomed over you, and you didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“wow, running back to the pogues didn’t work out, huh?” rafe cameron’s voice broke through your thoughts, laced with his usual teasing tone. “what, they get bored of you already? or are you just avoiding us kooks again?”
you sighed, tilting your head to glare up at him. “not now, rafe. seriously.”
his smirk faltered as he noticed your tear-streaked face. for a moment, he just stood there, his teasing demeanor slipping into something more uncertain. “hey,” he said, crouching down to your level, his voice quieter now. “you good?”
“as if you care,” you muttered, looking back out at the waves.
“okay, rude,” he replied, but there was no real heat behind it. “i mean, you’re sitting here all sad and stuff. if it’s those pogues making you feel like this—”
the way you looked at him must have caught him off guard because he paused. “wait,” he said, stepping closer. “are you… crying?”
“it’s not them,” you cut him off sharply, your voice trembling. “they’re the only ones who actually care.”
“just leave me alone,” you add, turning your head away from him and furiously wiping at your cheeks.
rafe raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by your sudden honesty. he sat back on the sand, his arms resting on his knees as he watched you cautiously. “so, if it’s not them… who is it?”
his teasing demeanor softened as he spoke. “y/n,” he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual edge. “what’s going on?”
“why do you even care?” you snapped, though your words didn’t carry much bite.
“because i just do, okay?” he said, his voice surprisingly sincere. “look, if it’s not those pogues making you feel like this, then who is it?”
you hesitated, biting your lip. a part of you screamed not to tell him—rafe cameron, of all people—but the words spilled out before you could stop them. “it’s just macy and liv.”
he frowned, his brows knitting together. “macy and olivia? aren’t they your besties or whatever?”
“they’re supposed to be, but all they do is make me feel like crap. they keep saying things to me, and they just don't realise how much they're hurting me.”
“so, whenever i react to them in the same way they're talking to me, liv keeps saying how rude i am and stuff.”
rafe stayed silent for a moment, watching you. then, to your surprise, he shifted closer, reaching out to gently tilt your face toward him.
“hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear on your cheek. his touch was warm, unexpectedly comforting. “you don’t deserve that. not from them, not from anyone.”
“they keep saying i’m rude and how sensitive i am, that i get angry over nothing. but it’s not true, rafe. i’m not like that.”
you stared down at your hands as his hands fell from your face, now holding your hands. your voice kept trembling and more tears spilled from your eyes as the words kept pouring out. “in class, they always turn their backs to me, like i’m not even there. and if i try to join in, they ignore me. so i just… stopped trying.”
“i don't think they even care that i keep quiet.”
rafe stayed quiet, letting you talk, occasionally squeezing your hands.
“and then there was this secret santa thing. i spent so much money and time making this burr basket for liv, and she didn’t even say thank you. she just complained about how much wrapping paper i used.”
you laughed bitterly, blinking your tears out of your eyes. “it’s stupid, right? i shouldn’t care this much. but i do. i feel like i’m always third-wheeling, like i’m not enough for them. like i’m just there.”
“and it hurts, rafe. it really hurts.”
rafe was silent for a long moment, his blue eyes fixed on you. when he finally spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically soft. “it’s not stupid.”
you glanced at him, surprised.
“look, i’m not great at this whole feelings thing,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “but… that sounds rough. and if they’re making you feel like that? screw them. seriously. you deserve better than that.”
you blinked, his words catching you off guard. “you think so?”
“yeah,” he said firmly. “i mean, if you can put up with those pogues, you can handle anything, right?” he smirked, but it was gentler this time, not mocking.
“they don’t deserve you. if they can’t see how great you are, that’s on them, not you.”
you blinked at him, caught off guard by his words. “you think i’m great?”
“obviously,” he said with a small smirk, though the warmth in his voice didn’t waver. “i mean, you’re stubborn, and you spend way too much time with those pogues, but…” he trailed off, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “you’re still pretty great.”
a laugh bubbled out of you despite yourself. “you’re kind of an idiot, you know that?”
“yeah, well, you’re not the first to say that,” he replied, his grin widening.
he brushed away another tear, his touch lingering for a moment before he dropped his hand. “and for the record? if you ever need someone to remind you how awesome you are, i guess i could do it. just don’t expect me to make a habit out of it.”
you smiled at him, the ache in your chest easing for the first time all day. “thanks, rafe.”
“anytime,” he said, leaning back on his hands and glancing out at the ocean. “just don’t start crying every time you see me, okay? people are gonna think i’m soft or something.”
for a moment, the two of you sat there in silence, the ocean waves filling the space between. rafe’s hand lingered back to your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek one last time to wipe away a tear before he dropped it back to his lap.
“thanks,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.
“anytime,” he replied, leaning back on his hands with an easy smirk. “but for real, don’t tell anyone i was nice to you. i’ve got a reputation to protect.”
you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was real this time. and as rafe stayed by your side, watching the sun dip below the horizon, you realized that maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than you’d thought.
maybe he cared more than you thought.
MASTERLIST
#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#drew starkey x reader#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey imagine
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HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP
katsuki bakugou x reader
the times bakugou broke your heart
heavily inspired by mbobhft
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/da846b8ee5c60e856d4d21a50d7d6942/2c187e42fa3634aa-b4/s540x810/3296f0a4ed354acd2fa288577e0d45e921b709c4.jpg)
1) the denial
“are we breaking up?”
“…yeah.”
“oh.”
his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.
it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.
it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.
he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.
but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.
at first, it didn’t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.
at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.
you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.
right?
2) the anger
if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?
your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.
you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.
you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.
and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.
he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.
but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.
he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.
3) the bargaining
please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?
you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.
suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.
4) the depression
everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.
you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.
it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.
5) the acceptance
acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.
part 2 soon!
#bnha kirishima#bnha shinsou#bsd chuuya#bnha todoroki#boku no hero acedamia#boku no academia#my hero academy fanfiction#mha manga spoilers#mha todoroki#mha roleplay#mha bakugou#mha x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha manga spoilers#mha dabi#boku no hero academia#bnha x y/n#bnha x reader#mha x gender neutral reader#my hero x reader#my hero academia#my hero acadamy#mha fanart#mha deku#mha oc
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