#if you don’t care enough to put in the effort to actually make your ideas rather than stealing for other creatives?
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sextape.
pairing: pornstar!jake x bsf!reader
summary: jake always sends you his OF content before he posts it. but one day after he sends you a solo video with an unexpected ending, you decide maybe it’s time you two film together.
cw: 18+ MDNI, NSFW, pornstar!au, sex, masturbation, online sex work, language, best friends with benefits to lovers, use of y/n
word count: 3.9k + proofread
a/n: another fic i’ve had in my notes app for a month lol🤗
TW: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME ONLINE. THIS STORY IS 100% FICTIONAL AND FOR FUN ONLY. NOTHING HERE IS ACCURATE TO REAL LIFE, NOR AM I CLAIMING IT TO BE. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
you’re currently working on your grad school work, grading quizzes for the students you TA for at UCLA. getting a phd was a full time job, no one ever warned you. but it would be worth it. as you sit at the desk in your bedroom, contemplating how much partial credit to award a student for a mediocre response to a short answer question, your phone buzzes.
you look down and see jake’s name light up your screen. you lean back in your chair, phone in hand, and read his text.
heyyy you wanna see my vid for tm? tried somethin new i think it’s pretty good
you smile at the screen before quickly typing out a reply and pressing send.
yeah
u don’t know how bored i am rn
you put your phone back down and continue grading. jake was one of your closest friends. you’d been friends for years since undergrad when you both went to ucla together. after graduation you moved onto ucla’s graduate program and he decided he was done with academia. he had always been a very creative person. he was also very sexual. he loved sex. he was good at it. he knew what to do to make people squirm. he was sexy, and he knew it. he decided, why not try to make a career out of it? so a couple years ago, he’d made an onlyfans account. his innovation & entrepreneurship degree came in handy, because he knew exactly how to promote himself online to gain a following quickly. fast forward two years, and now he’s in the top 0.5% of creators on the site, easily making seven figures a year, sometimes even seven figures a month. you were a little jealous sometimes, of how much money he made with seemingly little effort, but then you thought about all the work he’d actually put into his career.
he posted on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays. mondays were photos. he’d often have extremely strenuous and exhausting photoshoots for multiple days in the beginning of the month. they were never the same and they were always creative. he thought of each idea. money went into hiring the photographers, make up artists, catering, rented out space. but he made enough money to pay for it all. money wasn’t the issue, it was time. on wednesdays he uploaded a solo video. on fridays, he uploaded a video filmed with one or two or however many other people. his videos were always to the point. he liked it quick and dirty. no emotions, no strings, and NEVER any kissing. his fans liked it that way. he knew they didn’t care for theatrics. they were there to get off, and so was he…although, he always made sure the people he filmed with came first.
he edited all his own content too. he also had the responsibility of planning collaborations with other artists, for the friday videos. they couldn’t both upload the same content, so that often meant going multiple rounds in a row. plus he might have multiple collabs to film each week, so he could edit the videos and schedule days to post them. point being, jake was a very hard worker. he deserved every ounce of fame he’d gotten.
he would often send his videos to you for your approval. since you’d had a sexual relationship for quite some time, and were super close friends, he trusted you to tell him the truth about whether the videos were good or not. you always did. for around the past year, your relationship had escalated from solely friendship to friends with benefits. he got tested once a week for his work, so you weren’t worried about getting any stds from him or anything. plus he was always super safe. sex with jake was amazing. he was a amazing. having the “benefits” label attached to your title… it was fun. it was sweet. it wasn’t serious. at least that was what you thought he wanted, and you were too afraid to ever bring it up. you were happy to be his friend. you loved being his friend. you also loved having sex with him. you didn’t want to ruin that.
it was tuesday night, he’d probably just finished editing his wednesday video. you couldn’t help but feel giddy with excitement. watching him fuck himself was always fun for you.
you heard your phone buzz again and picked it up.
well hopefully this doesn’t bore you more lol :)
*FILE ATTACHMENT 3.5MB*
you click on the attachment and see that the video was eight minutes long. normally his wednesday videos averaged around three minutes. quick and dirty, remember? when you press play, you are immediately met with the image of a nearly naked jake waving to the camera and blowing a kiss (his signature salutation). you look down and can see where his boxers obviously tent, and when he plops himself down into the swiveling office chair with a smile, his erection is even more glaringly obvious.
one time, after one of your late night escapades, while you were cuddling in your bed in the early hours of the morning, you’d asked him how he was always hard before his solo videos even started. he had giggled and kissed your temple softly, before mumbling “a magician never tells his secrets.”
“oh come on,” you begged. “pleeease. i’m your best friend. and we are having sex so you kind of owe it to me if i’m going to find out you have some type of magical penis.”
he laughed again, “i just think about you.”
he kissed you on the cheek. “jaaake… be serious,” you say with faux annoyance.
“what makes you think i’m not being serious?” he asked before pulling your naked body ever closer to his. you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, but before you could push him any further, he’d fallen asleep.
you returned your attention back to the video, where the tiny jake in your screen was peeling his boxers off and tossing them to the side of the room. you watch as his dick sprang free. he tore his gaze away from his cock and glanced up to smile at the camera again. he had such a way with the camera. his eye contact made the viewer feel involved somehow. it was almost intimate. maybe that was why he was so popular. people felt seen by him. he squeezed a bit of unscented lotion on his hand and lazily grasped the shaft of his cock, drawing slow strokes back and forth, never breaking eye contact with the camera. yeah, this was definitely intimate. his breath caught every once in a while and he’d whisper “fuck” or “shit”, almost quiet enough that you couldn’t hear him.
after a couple minutes, you could tell he was about to come. well you could tell. you specifically. it was a face you’d grown so accustomed to seeing from him. his eyebrows furrowed a bit and his top lip curled up and to the right. sometimes he squeezed his eyes shut in his videos, but never with you. when you two fucked, he was always present. he wanted to savor every second. he wanted to see your eyes roll back as he made you finish for the second or third time in the night.
he squirmed in the chair and it rotated a little as his strokes got more aggressive. but right before he came he let go. he caught his breath. he laughed. he looked at the camera with a stare that could only be described as him saying “gotcha”. he repeated this process a few more times. working himself up. fucking himself to the brink of collapse but letting go just before he could teeter over the edge. you kept note of how his eyes hadn’t scrunched up once yet this video. as if he was trying as hard as possible to remain present with his audience.
around the seven minute mark, you knew he was finally going to allow himself to come. he was squirming, his leg was shaking, you could see the muscles in his abs contracting with every shallow breath he took. he whimpered softly, mumbling incoherently under his breath. but then he did something truly unexpected.
“fuck, y/n,” he let out with a moan. his own eyes widened at his words but at that point it was too late. the damage was already done. he felt so good and he was so close to coming that he couldn’t help but continue saying your name. he continued mumbling your name between soft sighs and moans until he finally pushed himself over the edge and come shot out of his dick and into his hand. he let go of his now flaccid but sensitive penis, and sat back in his chair with a breathless laugh.
“fuck,” he said. he stood up and walked closer to the camera, allowing the audience to get an up close look at the mess he’d made of himself. he smiled brightly one last time, blowing another kiss before the video cut out.
you sat in silence and disbelief at what you’d just seen. he was literally moaning your name while he jerked off, and was about to post it for a million subscribers to see. you couldn’t tell if you thought it was hot or if it made you nervous. you looked down at your texts and saw that he’d sent another message.
well?
it didn’t take long for you to think of your reply.
come over
he answered almost as soon as your text was delivered.
already on my way baby
-
you knew he arrived at your place when you heard three quick knocks at your front door, the same knock he did every time he came over.
“hey,” you greet him with a shy smile as you open the door. suddenly, seeing him in person after watching his video had made you feel less confident, and more embarrassed.
“hi,” he said, looking down at his feet. clearly his drive over had given him time to contemplate his actions and maybe garner a bit of embarrassment himself. he stepped over the threshold without asking. not that you wanted him to. you closed the door behind him and stood with your hand pressed against it for a second, facing away from him.
“look,” he started. “i don’t know why i did it. i know it’s… different… than my other stuff, and if you don’t want me to post it i won’t, but i wanted you to see how you make me feel.” you feel his presence behind you and your suspicion is validated as his fingers glide over your hip until his palm is flat against your skin. “say something, please.”
you turn around and grab his neck with both hands, pulling him down to sloppily kiss him. you thought about his words, how you make me feel, and you thought about him. you pull away for a second and stare into his eyes desperately. he meets your gaze with equal fervor, scanning all across your face for some sort of indication to keep going. and you can tell then. that he wants you just as much as you’d always wanted him. in a way that’s more than just best friends. more than just benefits. “i want to film with you,” you say, all your confidence restored.
his eyes widen, “really?”
“yes.”
you feel his grip tighten on your waist, his other hand snaking up your neck and around the back of your head. “i was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled.
you lead him to your bedroom, hand in hand. it had to be the hundredth time you’d led him there. but it never got old. you could do it forever. you would do it forever, if he’d have you.
“so how does this work?” you ask with giddy excitement upon locking your bedroom door behind you.
“we don’t have any of my film stuff, so we’ll just have to record on my phone. it’ll be fun. it’ll look homemade… amateur. people eat that shit up. plus, i think if you’re in it, people will love it even more. i know they’re gonna love the wednesday video… just hearing your name.”
you smile, taking a step towards him and reaching out to pull him in by his waistband. “so you’ll just… be recording us on your phone the whole time?” you ask.
he gulps, his dick growing harder by the second, just from thinking about having you on camera. he couldn’t stop imagining what the video would look like, and how he could jerk off to it whenever he wanted. he wouldn’t have to imagine you anymore. “yeah, pretty much.” he inches closer to you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and leaning in until his lips brush against your mouth. “gonna be so sexy for me, baby.”
“shit,” you whisper, your knees growing weak. “i want you.”
he sets up his phone, leaning it against a jewelry box on your dresser, and you wonder how he could possibly get all of it in frame.
“you good?” he asks as he makes his way back over to you.
“yeah,” you say, eyes still on the camera. “just a little nervous i guess.”
“you’re gonna do so good. just pretend it’s not even there. focus on me.”
“okay,” you smile, and lean in to connect your lips. he drags his hand down your back until he’s pulling on the fabric of your t-shirt, silently begging you to allow him to pull it off. you break away from each other, just for a second, to strip until you’re both naked. why not get down to business, right?
“getting right to it?” he asks with a smirk, before plunging back to your mouth, kissing you hard and fast. one of his hands grips your cheek while the other kneads your ass. your arms wrap around his neck and your bodies are so close together you can feel his cock pressing against your pelvis. you part your lips slightly, allowing is tongue to enter and explore the inside of your mouth. he guides you both over to your bed, never breaking the kiss, until he finally picks you up completely. you wrap your legs around his torso and he holds you close, flopping down on the bed with you mounting his lap. “turn around so they can see you, baby,” he breaks away and whispers in your ear. you do as you’re told, he spreads his legs so you can sit between them, facing the camera now.
“spread your legs for me, princess.” you rest one leg on both of his thighs, so you’re completely revealed. you can see yourself in his little phone screen on your vanity, and even bigger in the mirror behind it. he wraps one arm around your stomach, holding you in place, and rests his head on your shoulder, kissing you as he does. his free hand creeps around your waist and lands between your legs. “so wet for me.” he whispers as his fingers mindlessly brush over you. he finds your clit, as he’s done countless times before, and rubs gentle circles into it with his index and middle fingers.
he loved to start slow with you. building you up for so long just so he could eventually ruin you. you lean your head back into the crook of his neck and turn to meet his gaze, “please don’t tease, jake.”
he kisses your lips again, so softly, you almost think he’s going to go easy on you. “i’m not teasin’, promise,” he replies. “just gotta show them how pretty you are while you’re like this.”
he gets rougher then, his fingers moving quicker and harder, and you let out a moan. “louder, baby.” he says as he delivers a brisk slap to your inner thigh, pulling another moan from you, before he eventually shoves two fingers deep inside you. he curls his fingers upwards as he thrusts them into you, finding your g-spot over and over again.
you’re practically a breathless, shaking mess in his arms, but he just keeps alternating between fingering you and rubbing your clit. he brings you to the edge more times than you can count, alternating methods just before you can reach your peak. he almost knows your body better than you at this point. knows exactly when to stop before you can come, knows exactly what makes you feel the best. “you’re doing so good for me, princess.” he praises as you continue to play his game. allowing him to make a mess of you in his arms, he’s the only one you’d ever want to be this vulnerable with. you absolutely love when he ruins you. you love how it feels during the moment, and you love how it feels after, with him cradling you in his arms until you fall asleep. kissing your forehead and cheeks relentlessly while he tells you how amazing you are. how you’re the only person he genuinely enjoys fucking. how he could do it all the time and never get bored.
he kisses your temple as he finally allows you to come undone in his arms. you grip his arm that’s wrapped around your stomach, and your other hand reaches behind you to grab the back of his head and pull him in. your lips latch onto his, even though you’re barely capable of kissing him as he works you through your orgasm. you gaze up to make eye contact with him, and he smiles down at you while your body finally stops convulsing and your loud moans dwindle into soft, breathless pants. you manage to return his smile then, and he leans down to press an ever so gentle kiss to your lips. “you think you can take more?” he asks softly.
“with you? always,” you reply.
“that’s my girl,” he grins. “move to the edge of the bed, baby.”
he stands up and grabs a tissue from your vanity to wipe off his fingers before grabbing his phone from the dresser. he flips the camera view so it’s on you, and he turns the flash on.
he walks up to you, camera in hand, and you can’t help but giggle as he does. you’ve never seen him in action before. well, not live. you wonder if this is how filming usually goes for him. you imagine not. since he has more professional recording equipment at home, and he’s with strangers. you have to admit, no matter how good his content is, he never has any type of chemistry with the people he fucks beyond sexually. it was different with you, it was bound to be. your relationship is bigger than just sex. it was more… for both of you.
“you laughin’ at me?” jake asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you.
you bat your eyelashes at him innocently, “never!”
he lets out a chuckle before finally reaching you on the bed. he stands at the edge where you sit up on your elbows to look at him. the flash in your face makes it hard to even see jake. you look past the light up at him, he’s all you care about. you know you must be giving him the biggest doe eyes ever, but you don’t care how you look. you want him bad.
“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says, reaching down to jerk himself off with his free hand. “could come just by lookin’ at you.”
he continues stroking himself, whining a little as he does. “see what she does to me?” he asks his hypothetical audience. “lean back, mama. hold your thighs back for me.” again, you do as you’re told. being with him was the only time you were okay with a man telling you what to do. you grab one thigh in each hand and pull your legs back until they’re pressed against your torso.
he guides his cock between your legs, slowly pushing it inside of you inch by inch. you were always taken aback by his size. as if your body forgets how big he is between your hookups, you always needed a minute to adjust. “takin’ me so well, princess.” you knew the camera was capturing the entire scene. and for some reason, that was turning you on even more.
once he was finally in deep enough, he let go of his dick and used his now free hand to grab onto your thigh, pushing it down even further. you felt him bottom out, his pelvis pressing against your skin, and he groaned in delight at the feeling. “missed you so much, baby. missed this perfect body, and your pretty moans,” he says.
“you came over three nights ago,” you muster between moans as he begins thrusting into you.
“yeah, but i always miss you when you’re not with me. miss all of you. not just fucking you.” he couldn’t say much else, as he was now groaning himself, but you understood well enough what he meant. he missed you. everything about you.
his thrusts grew faster and harder with each passing second, and you reached out to grab his arm that was still pushing your thigh back. you gripped his wrist, your nails digging into him as your moans got louder. “fuck! jake… fuck, fuck.”
“what is it, baby? use your words,” jake said through his grunts.
“‘m…so close,” you reply, and another moan rips through you.
“me too,” he says. “come with me.”
your back arches off the bed and you can almost see stars as he slams into you, but you let go at precisely the same time. his thrusts grow sloppier, and he can barely hold his grip on the phone as his body begins to shake. yours does too, and you grip the sheets with the hand that isn’t actively holding onto jake’s wrist for dear life. you’re both in a state of pure ecstasy as you feel his dick finally twitch inside you.
he stops the video and throws his phone on the bed, hunching over on top of you to catch his breath. he slowly pulls out and collapses onto the bed, pulling your body onto his and kissing your face gently. he fixes your sweaty hair as best as he can, smiling as he does. “you’re so pretty.”
“so are you,” you whisper, your fingers softly tracing his face. “so are you gonna post the video this week? i think it was good, hopefully it’ll do well.”
“oh, i don’t think i’m going to post it.” jake says.
“what? why not? do you think it’s bad?” you ask, and genuine concern lines your voice.
“no. that’s the problem. it’s so good. i don’t wanna share it. don’t wanna share you. only i want to be able to see you like that.” he kisses you roughly and nuzzles his head into your chest.
you smile at his words. don’t wanna share you, and suddenly, you’re saying the one thing you never thought you’d be able to say to him. “jake, i think i’m in love with you.”
he seems caught off guard at first. but then he looks at you with eyes full of only love and passion, and the most earnest smile you’d ever seen adorns his face. “thank god.”
he kisses you, only this time it feels different. it’s as if a taut rope that had held you two a foot away from each other had finally snapped. or been cut. he holds your face in his hands like you’re a precious porcelain doll he wouldn’t dare risk breaking, and when he pulls away from the kiss, it’s only to say “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to hear that.”
pics from pinterest, divider from @/saradika-graphics
tags for @liseytopia & @audr3yyyyy again <33 ily guys
#sh4wty18#jake webber#original fiction#original one shot#one shot#smut#jake webber fanfic#jake webber x reader#jake webber smut#jake webber fanfiction#smut oneshot#pornstar!au#Spotify
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if i hear one more pro-ai take i fear i may start exploding people with my brain
#for legal reasons im not gonna explode anyone#but i am gonna be extremely pissed off#i think the thing that pisses me off the most about pro ai people is this sense of entitlement i see from a lot of people#like “oh well this person posted their art/writing/creativity online#so therefore the ai (and by extension me) is entitled to be able to use it”#like its not the same at all as looking at another creators work and getting inspired#or when youre learning how to shape your style#its just taking other people’s work and passing it off as your own#like i get it sometimes youre not as good as you want to be or the motivation isnt there and you just want your ideas out there NOW#but you know what you do then?#you. fucking. practice.#if you don’t care enough to put in the effort to actually make your ideas rather than stealing for other creatives?#then i dont care at all about what you “create”#(obviously im not shaming people for being unable to put in effort due to any multitude of reasons—such as disability lack of time etc)#but even then that doesnt mean you have to resort to stealing from other people#because thats what ai is. theft. simple as that.#generative ai just makes me so fucking angry#fuck ai#anti ai#anti ai art#stop ai#fuck ai art#down with ai#fuck ai everything#fuck ai writing#fuck ai all my homies hate ai
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“S’it an animal?”
“Nope.”
“A character?”
“Mm, sort of.”
“What d’you mean sort of? Either is or isn’t.” Simon tries to rationalize with you from where he’s sat, arms stretched out wide along the back of the couch. He’s waiting for you to come out of the bedroom and show off the Halloween costume you apparently had to buy when you spotted it in a shop the other day.
Instead of sauntering out of the room and simply showing him the costume though, you’re making him guess what it could be. You’re always making him work for it, his missus. He can’t get enough of you.
“Nuh-uh,” you disagree with him. “Someone could dress as a sports player but not be a specific player. Could dress as a mermaid but not be the little mermaid, ya know?”
“Okay, I see watcha mean, lovie. Can I please just see you now?” Simon relents, all too eager to get a glimpse at your costume.
He’s never been a big fan of Halloween. Growing up, his front doorstep never had a pumpkin proudly displayed on it (not that any of the kids in the neighbourhood would have gone up to the door to trick or treat anyway, had there been one), and the handful of years he made an effort to take Tommy out their costumes consisted of last minute bedsheets thrown over their heads, pillow cases used to collect their loot.
He enlisted not long after high school graduation, and so there are no memories of college Halloween parties with mates and girls in scandalous costumes. But having seen the cheeky grin on your face as you scurried into the flat, refusing to let him peek at the costume lest he ‘ruin the surprise’ as you put it, hearing your sweet giggle as he swatted your bum and told you to get on with the show then, well, he could see Halloween growing on him.
“Any final guesses?” You say, peeking your head ever so slightly out the doorframe to catch a glimpse of your love where he sits patiently waiting for you, careful not to reveal any of your costume yet.
“Not a single one, pretty.” He answers without hesitation, ready for your reveal. In actuality, Simon’s mind has been absolutely swimming with ideas of what you might potentially walk out in. He’s aware that some women take this ‘holiday’ as an excuse to wear some more risqué clothing, and he finds the front of his pants growing tighter at the possibility of you walking out in something he’ll make sure never leaves the walls of your flat again.
“Well, Johnny thought it was pretty hilarious, if that helps at all.” You giggle, looking into the mirror one last time to make sure the costume looks right.
“Johnny??” Simon asks bewildered. “Love, don’t be textin’ that bloke so much, he’s got nothin’ but rubbish ideas in his-”
Simon loses his train of thought as he watches you step out into his line of sight, eyes tracing your figure from head to toe, and back up again.
“Is that-”
“I’m a Ghostbuster!” You squeal excitedly. “Isn’t it great, Si? I’m already so good at busting ghosts!”
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost fanfic#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley fluff#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost#cod fluff#cod fic#cod fanfic#cod x reader#readwritealldayallnight#johnny soap mactavish#halloween
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The Perfect Ride : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: you can't help but wonder what you were thinking putting heels on, but as the pain nags away at you, luckily you've got lando there to offer his services
Lando struggled to hold back his laughter as he glanced back again, watching as you tentatively walked, holding onto anything around you for support. In theory, wearing heels to dinner at his parents was a great idea, but now you were suffering and walking each step full of regret.
“Please tell me we’ve not got that much longer to go,” you sighed as Lando walked towards you and closed the distance between you both. “I can’t believe you let me leave the house in heels.”
Finally a chuckle escaped from Lando, having asked you several times before you left the house whether you were sure you wanted to wear them. You were confident that things would be fine, brushing Lando aside despite how vocal he was with his concerns for you.
“I told you so,” he shrugged, allowing you to rest your hand against his shoulder to steady yourself. “I was serious when I said you should’ve left the house in your crocs.”
“Sure, I’m your parents would’ve loved me showing up in my crocs, are you actually insane Lan?”
With Lando holding onto you, you started walking again, wincing every single time your foot hit the floor. You were keen to make a good impression, having only met Lando’s parents a handful of times, but now you knew that impressing them was not as important as being comfortable.
Lando’s arm snaked around your waist as he walked at your pace, encouraging you to keep moving, trying his best to distract you from the pain in your feet.
“Sorry that I’m taking so long,” you told Lando, glancing across and meeting his eyes. “We probably could’ve been home by now if I wasn’t wearing these stupid things. This is ridiculous.”
Lando offered you a sympathetic smile, “it’s pretty nice weather tonight, I’m quite happy being out here and admiring the beautiful sunset, I don’t mind.”
“Nice try trying to make me feel a little less guilty.”
“I’m being serious,” Lando tried his best to assure you, “when was the last time we got to take a slow walk and just soak in our surroundings for a little while?”
You stopped again, letting go of a deep breath. “It would be nice to be able to do that without feeling like I want to get a saw and chop both of my feet off.”
Your confession had Lando giggling, as much as he sympathised with how you were feeling, he was struggling to keep himself composed and supportive amongst all of your dramatics.
Despite how nice you wanted to look, Lando never wanted you to make the effort at a cost. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to suffer just for him, to look good for him, he wouldn’t have cared if you showed up in your pyjamas, just having you there with his family was more than enough for him.
“We might still be here to see the sunrise too if we carry on like this,” Lando smiled, trying his best to bring a smile back to your face.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re starting to enjoy this?” You challenged, narrowing your eyes in Lando’s direction. “I might just bin them and walk bare foot for the rest of the way home instead.”
Lando’s head shook, picking you up as soon as you bent down to undo the buckle of your shoe. “You can’t do that, it’s not safe baby. I’ve got a different idea that might be able to solve your problem though?”
You watched as Lando stood in front of you, tapping against his back, inviting you to jump up. “Are you being serious?” You laughed, watching as he looked over his shoulder at you, nodding his head. “You think you can piggyback me home?”
“I do actually want to get home at some point tonight.”
Lando tapped his back again, feeling your hands hold onto his shoulders. You counted down before jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist, feeling his hands go underneath your knees to lift you up and keep you secure as your arms draped in front of Lando’s chest.
“See,” he smiled, immediately starting to walk with you comfortably resting against him. “It doesn’t even feel like I’m carrying anything on my back you’re so light.”
“You are such a liar Lando Norris.”
“I’m serious,” he chuckled, walking at a much quicker pace than he had done whilst you were on your feet too. “All you need to do is relax and enjoy the ride and let me worry about making sure you get home in one piece tonight.”
Your head nodded as you took a look around the street, figuring out whereabouts you were. “Have I ever told you how much of a hero you are? Always saving the day for me.”
“That’s just what boyfriends are for, right?” Lando laughed in response.
Sure, in a relationship you were supposed to be looked after, but Lando always seemed to find a way to go above and beyond. If you were ever stuck, he was always there to help you with the right answer to fix things.
Your smile was wide as Lando continued walking, it was surprisingly comfortable up on his back, making the most of not having to worry about the ache in your feet for a little while.
“I hope you know how important you are to receive treatment like this, I don’t offer a piggyback to anyone you know,” Lando smirked, breaking the silence between you both.
You hummed back at him, finding yourself beginning to get sleepy. Lando could feel your head beginning to weigh down on top of his own, hearing your breaths get a little heavier as you struggled to keep your eyes open. A smile crept onto Lando’s face, relieved to feel and hear how comfortable you were.
“Don’t be falling asleep on me up there,” he teased, “I can’t walk the rest of the way home talking to myself, people will think I’m weird if they hear that.”
“I’m awake, I promise,” you assured him, fighting the urge to close your eyes, trying your best to focus on something to stay awake.
Lando glanced up questionably back at you, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would hear you falling asleep, knowing when he got home it would be his job to get you tucked into bed and try not to wake you up.
“Are we almost home?” You asked Lando, not quite sure how much longer you could hold on for, feeling sleep getting closer with every second that passed.
“Don’t worry about that, close your eyes if you want to love,” Lando smiled, “I don’t mind if you do, I’ll just sing to myself for the rest of the way home.
You nodded in reply to Lando, “thank you for always being there for me and helping me, I really do appreciate it Lando.”
“I know you do,” Lando whispered, “but you never have to thank me, I love being the one that gets to take care of you.”
“And you do such a good job of it too.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#lando norris drabble#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#formula x reader#formula one drabble#formula 1 drabble#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 drabble#f1 x you
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this is miguel o’hara being a dick
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader
-
miguel knows he’s fucked.
he has been neglecting you, putting his work above your needs and ditched on dates he can’t count with his fingers. at first you were okay, given that you’re dating such a busy man like him, you understand the consequences.
but you’ve had enough. there were nights where you cooked dinner, only to be left untouched by him or where you softly cried yourself in the middle of the night because he was still out. the only time he comes home is when you’re already asleep, then he left to the HQ in the morning before you’ve gotten the chance to wake up.
you confronted him about this. paid a visit to his office before going to work. Jess and Lyla had warned you to not disturb him but you managed to make them back off with a single frightening look.
yes. they are scared of you. a lot of them are. they do not want to test you at all.
the moment you stepped into his office, he didn’t even bother to look. eyes were just too focused on his work that he assumed Jess was the one who walked in.
“oh, you’re fucking your co-worker now?” your tone laced with sarcasm and anger with arms crossed over your chest,
hearing the familiar voice, he had never whipped his head so fast. “y/n? what are you doing here?”
“well” you start, heels clicking against the floor as you step towards him. “since my boyfriend has been MIA for almost a week i figured i should stopped by.”
his head shook, turning his focus back to what he thought mattered most. “not right now, mi amor. I’m working.”
“i can see that, dumbass” you respond in a cold tone. frowning as to why he couldn’t take one second off from that god damn screen. “you and me are going to get breakfast together. now. before i go to work.”
“i told you I can’t. I’m busy” he replies, brushing you off with his hand. “next time.”
“i’m a busy woman too!” your voice shakes, wanting so bad to scream at him and throw that tiny desk at his head. “but I always want to make time for you, Miguel!”
no response. he muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear him.
un-fucking-believable
“you’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” tone laced with venom as you spit the words. clenching your fists by your side as you struggle to hold back the tears. “i feel like this relationship is one sided, the only person that is truly making an effort is me. you don’t—“
Miguel couldn’t take it anymore. he threw a desk and it went flying, thankfully it didn’t hit you. though your eyes went wide in shock, a loud gasp left your lips as you covered your mouth with your hands.
“you’re right! I don’t! I don’t care about some silly little fucking breakfast when the universe depends on me!” he pointed at himself as his irises turned red when he looked at you. his breathing went heavy and he still wasn’t aware how scared you were at him at that point.
“do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to keep all this shit together?! how many people will die if i don’t do what i gotta do! I don’t always like it, y/n but i have to do it! and here you are trying to play house with me it’s fucking pathetic!” he scoffed, putting his hands on hips.
oh he did not realize how much his words hurt.
the room was filled with silence. you stared at him in disbelief but remained a stoic expression. you were taught better than to be weak before any men. Miguel was no exception. your mother would be disappointed if you let a man win.
“wow” you breathed, nodding. “that was a good speech actually, the longest one I’ve ever heard you talking” you tried to sound sarcastic but how you felt and how you sounded failed you.
Miguel was quick to notice this and his features quickly soften. he reached out quickly to hold you.
“cariño i—“
“I’m returning back to my apartment by five. do not fucking look for me” it was final. the way you said it, how your eyes remained empty as you spoke to him. Miguel knew better than to test you,
but he just did and now he’s paying the price,
his heart broke when he heard you said that. you were so tired of him and you just wanted him back. you want your man back but he couldn’t see how that mattered to you.
“baby, please—“
you held your hand as you turned around. “don’t you even think about sending Jess or Miles my way.”
with that you walked out of his office without uttering another word. leaving him speechless and heartbroken. he knew better than to follow you out, it would just make things worse. he was just going to let you cool off.
he didn’t know how long it was gonna take.
it has been almost a month that you two have been living separately. and he’s losing his mind. he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can barely walk out of the house without seeing all the things that remind him of you. the team even sensed something is wrong because he has been more short tempered than before and it almost made the rest of spider society terrified of talking to him.
he’s gotten more violent, that’s for sure. every enemy he encountered, he would leave them bleed with their faces unrecognizable. it was his way of taking his stress out. not exactly healthy but it’ll do for now.
but he thinks that this has gotten too far. he misses you terribly, your scent, your laugh, your voice, your body, and mostly… your pussy
God, the amount of times he sniffed your panties while he jacked off as the image of you clouded his mind was simply not enough.
and now here he stands before your apartment door. dressed nicely in a white buttoned up shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black pants. his ring cladded fingers nervously grip around the boquete as the other hand shoved into his pocket.
Miguel had never been this nervous before. toeing his shoes and tapping his toes against the floor rapidly. it’s probably already been fifteen minutes that he’s standing like that staring at your door. thinking far too carefully what he wants to say.
he decides it’s now or never as he raises his fist and knock softly against the wooden door, hoping that you’re home.
“coming!” he hears your voice, his stomach somersaults hearing that after what it felt like a thousand year. “i am so hungry, why are you delivery guys always taking so—“
soon as you open the door, you freeze. definitely not the takeout delivery boy and instead it’s the one person you’ve been avoiding for God knows how long.
Miguel’s mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly taking in the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. you put on your favorite lime green night gown that stops just above your knees with a white silky robe, your hair fall down gracefully. natural curls framing your face. eyes glinting under the light, he almost falls to his knees and thank the Lord for your existence.
beauty doesn’t even begin to describe how you look tonight.
Miguel realizes how he probably looks like an idiot. clearing his throat to regain his composure as he smiles awkwardly at you. “Hi.”
you stare at him as your features then showcase a displeased expression. “what are you doing here?”
you’re leaning your body against the doorframe, arms crossed in annoyance. eyes flickering from his face to the flowers he’s holding and back up to his eyes. as much as you hate to see him, you can’t help that little feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you see the flowers he’s holding.
tulips. your favorite
he takes a one step closer to your frame, breathing out a sigh as he looks down at you. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”
that earns a scoff from you, looking away. “good start.”
“i was a horrible boyfriend.” he admits, gulping as he sees how sadness and exhaustion taking over your face just like that. “you don’t deserve that. what i said to you that day… none of it was true. you were not… pathetic, nor were the idea of having breakfast together… I appreciate every single thing we’ve done together, baby. believe me, por favor…”
a hard stare is the only thing he gets from you. the way your lips form into an angry pout and how your eyes seem to get tired and bored from his confession.
you’re a difficult person to please. he knows that.
“i know that being stress is no excuse of what I’ve done… I should’ve—fuck I should’ve done better. a month without you was like hell, mi corazon. ay, me sentí como si estuviera perdiendo la cabeza.” he sighs in frustration, head shaking as he recalls many sleepless nights. “i love you so so much. i do not want to go through that again … i know that it’s going to take forever to get your trust back and everything, but i swear on my mother’s grave that i—“
“stop talking”
he shuts his mouth after that. eyes looking up to you when he realizes you’re talking to him after a prolonged silence that’s taking over.
seeing how broken he looks almost feels like your heart got plucked. as mean as you are or as much as you wanted to look like you don’t care, you can’t when it comes to Miguel. you love this man far too much and despite his cold cold persona, that’s a huge sweetheart underneath.
“you hurt me, Miguel.” eyes casting down the floor as you try to keep your voice low. “you threw a desk to my direction…”
he shakes his head at that, resisting the urge to cradle your cheek. “lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean—“
“yes i know, i heard you.” you sigh, eyes closed momentarily. “you scared me”
Miguel feels his heart breaks when he hears how your voice breaks. he carefully lifts his hand to softly palm your cheek, thumb grazing against the skin. he exhales a soft sigh when you aren’t pushing him off.
“I didn’t mean to do that to you, my love. fuck, I’ve hurt you. i will never forgive myself for that. i was supposed to be the one who protect you and i was being a huge asshole.”
“a cute one though” you pout at him,
he chuckles at that, feeling the tension between you two are finally cutting down. “you’re too sweet, baby… after all i had done to you”
“nothing compared to how you treated me for the past two and a half years.” you smile sweetly at him, hand wrapping around his wrist. feeling at home once he holds you in his palm. “still a good man.”
he shakes his head in disagreement. “no, no that doesn’t excuse it… i was in the wrong.”
you hum in response, looking at the pretty flowers still in his hand. “are those for me?”
he nods with a smile, “you’re my only woman, no?”
you bite the inside of your cheek as you smile, taking it from his grasp as you sniff the pretty petals. “i love them. thank you.”
he once again goes quiet, taking another step closer. eyes looking down at your glossy lips and he can’t take it anymore. he doesn’t care if he’s stepping boundaries here. “i miss you, cariño. can i show you just how much?”
his offer sends shiver down your spine, making it impossible for you to stand still. Miguel always knows your sweet spot, how to make your knees feel wobbly without having him to touch you.
you do miss him touching you,
“i have a ballet class to teach tomorrow, papi. Saturday morning class, you remember ?” a pout formed on your lips, yet you still allow him to pull you close to him as he closes the door behind. “plus don’t you have work too? i bet Jess needs you.”
Migue nearly growls at you calling him ‘papi’. his jeans growing tight as you look up to him with doe eyes that you know he loves. though sometimes, you don’t understand the effect you have on him.
“that can wait… you’re more important to me than anything” he whispers, giving your open hand a kiss. large palm coming down to grip your waist, giving it a light squeeze. “do you want me too?”
you respond with a slow nod, biting back a smile as you interlock your hand with his pulling him inside. his smirk grows wider as he leans over to capture your mouth in his,
“let me fuck you real good then we can come home, eh mi vida?” he promises against your lips, slipping your soft silky robe off of you before picking you up in bridal style causing to shriek and giggle,
“i wanna hear you scream my name.”
-
part 2?
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UNDER CONTROL
OVERVIEW: after quinn's captaincy skills are put to the test, you want nothing more than to help him relax.
WARNINGS: 18+ content, MDNI. bondage play, unprotected sex, p in v, etc.
note: atp, it's tradition for me to write a smut piece after every game.
wc: 2279
The game against Columbus had been a hard watch.
Being sat on the couch in your and Quinn’s shared apartment was becoming increasingly more and more difficult the more the game carried on. During the first period, you couldn’t help but be a little frustrated at the lack of effort shown on the ice.
However, your frustrations only grew during the last two periods. Watching Quinn and the rest of his teammates get assaulted every other second fueled your emotions, causing you to lash out at the TV due to the refs who seemed to be blind.
By the time the game had come to an end, resulting in a win for the Canucks, you couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated at everything that had transpired within the hours of the night. You knew Quinn would be happy with the win, but you also knew him well enough that he would be feeling the physical results of it too.
Once you received his text that he would be home in less than ten minutes, having found an alternate route to avoid the Vancouver traffic, your brain scrambled to think of ideas on how to make his night a little bit easier, not only on his body but on his mind.
You started by popping some leftover pizza into the microwave, knowing Quinn would eat anything you put in front of him, not caring what it was. Next, you brought out the fluffy pillows from the closet and laid them out on the couch, lighting some random Yankee candle you had found in there as well. Just as the microwave beeped and you put out one of Quinn’s favorite books on the coffee table, the front lock clicked, indicating he had arrived.
Fumbling with your hands, you quickly walked over to the kitchen to pull the pizza out of the microwave and bringing it back over to the couch.
“Hey.” You greeted, walking over to the doorway to kiss him.
He tiredly kissed you back, small droplets of water falling from his hair and onto your forehead, “Hi.”
“Congrats on the win, hot shot.”
Quinn chuckled, “Thanks. Do you wanna order in or are you cooking?”
You smiled sheepishly, “Um, I actually just heated up some of the leftover pizza from a few days ago. I got too caught up in the game to actually… cook.”
He quickly noticed the embarrassment flood your face and he was quick to put a stop to it. He kissed your cheek, “You watched the game?”
“Always do. I just normally don’t get too into them, you know? But this one was really good”
Quinn let out a sigh before nodding. You could tell he was tired of standing, so you slid his hockey bag off of his shoulder and set it down on the floor. As you guided him over to sit on the couch, you couldn’t help but want to do more to help him relax.
“Do you need anything? Water? Gatorade?” You questioned the second he sat down on the soft cushions.
“Could you grab me a gato from the fridge?”
You nodded, quickly making your way to the fridge and making your way back just as fast that you were surprised you hadn’t slipped, “Anything else?”
Quinn furrowed his eyebrows, “No thanks. Are you okay? You seem really jittery.”
It wasn’t hard to read you, but you were worried about the toll his body had taken during the game that you couldn’t help it. Your lack of a response caused Quinn to start to worry himself, doing the exact opposite of what you wanted to do.
He tugged you down onto the couch gently, allowing you to settle your tense body against his. It was silent as you let out a breath, easing into his touch. As you nestled your face into his chest, he winced, his body pulling back instinctively.
You pulled away quickly, “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.”
Quinn shook his head, “No it wasn’t you. Just got a bit roughed up tonight.”
You gave him a look, silently asking if you could lift up his shirt to see what exactly he meant by “roughed up.”. He tensed at your gaze, nodding subtly as he allowed your hands to lift up the fabric. It was hard to see the patch of purpled and slightly yellow skin spread across his chest and you couldn’t help but grimace at the sight.
“If anything my head hurts more than this. I promise it looks worse than it feels.” He lied, not wanting to worry you further. “I got it under control.”
Quinn had always been one to try and shake things off himself, but after tonight he desperately wanted to distract himself from not only the pain but also to forget about how the night had started.
The first period had been rough, especially for him. It was a low-effort skate from everyone and that’s exactly what the fans were seeing. He struggled to think of ways to encourage his team or even help them out, but there’s only so much one guy can do.
When they entered the locker room he was determined to shift gears. Tocchet was barely able to get a word out before Quinn took the lead, getting his team back into a winning mindset. He was always looking for ways to improve himself and the team, and if they could focus and get their heads back into the game, he knew that would show that improvement.
What he hadn’t expected was the mental toll it would take on him. He was exhausted both mentally and physically. He wanted nothing more than to get home and fall asleep since he expected you to already be in bed. But when he saw you awake and attentive to his needs, he wanted to simply sit and enjoy your presence.
“I can tell you’re tired, Quinn. Can I do anything or do you just want to head to bed?”
“There is one thing you can do for me.” He smiled, instantly gaining your attention, “Kiss me?”
You blushed at his request, slowly leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. “Better?”
Quinn smirked, “Think you might need to do it a few more times.”
Compiling, you kissed him again, letting this one linger a bit longer before pulling away again, an expectant look on your face, and a non-amused one on Quinn’s. He let out a sigh before pulling your leg over his lap, allowing you to straddle him. Bringing a hand up, he entangled his fingers gently in your hair, pushing your head slightly towards him to connect again.
It quickly began getting heated, a soft kiss turning into a full-blown make out session on the couch. Your hands wandered across his upper body, beginning to tug his shirt up when your knuckles made contact with his bruise, causing him to bite down harshly on your lip.
You yelped at the pain but also realized what you had done causing you to pull away from him. “I’m so sorry,” Quinn reassured you quickly, trying to pull you back in, but you pushed against his force. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this tonight, I don’t wanna hurt you, Q.”
“Y/N, it’s fine. You’re not gonna hurt me.”
“I just did! You’re hard not to touch, and I just don’t want to make it worse.” You mumbled, shying away from his touch and trying to return to your previous spot on the couch.
Quinn was quick to stop you, “You trust me?”
You nodded, the question being a no-brainer. Quinn sat you down on the couch, walking over to the doorway to fetch something out of his bag. You weren’t sure what it was until he sat back down, returning you to your previous straddling position.
“Quinn, what are you-?” He cut you off, taking your hands behind your back, pushing you gently to lean a little bit forward, tying the fabric of his suit tie around your wrists and securing it tightly behind you.
“Now you can’t hurt me. So please, shut up and kiss me.”
His boldness caught you off guard but you had no time to be surprised as he tugged you down to kiss you yet again, You moaned against his mouth, the feeling of being restrained shooting a thrill throughout your body.
The apartment suddenly felt hot and you knew it wasn’t just you who was feeling it. Quinn reluctantly pulled away, laying you down on your back as he stripped himself of his shirt and pants, his boxers coming down with them.
Your mouth fell agape at the sight, but he had no time to notice as he hastily pulled off your bottoms, throwing them somewhere on the floor below you.
“So fucking beautiful, baby.” He admired, shifting his body to hover above yours.
You wanted to tug on his hair desperately, but they were still bound behind your back, “Q, please. Wanna touch you.”
Quinn chuckled, “Wanted you to touch me too, but you were so worried. Let me help us relax, yeah? I think we deserve it.”
A whine was all that escaped your lips, bringing a smile to Quinn’s face. He sat you up yet again, his smile quickly replaced by his lips parting as he guided your hips to lower down onto him. You moaned softly at his pace, taking his sweet time to dwell on the feeling before bottoming out.
He didn’t move, his hands resting tightly on your hips as he felt his muscles decompress. “You wanna do me a favour, sweet girl?”
You nodded, “What do you need, Q?”
Quinn looked up at you with tired eyes, “Fuck yourself on my cock.” Your eyes widened at his vulgarity, “I worked so hard tonight. Think I deserve it, don’t you?”
Too stunned to respond verbally, you pressed your body up slightly by using your legs, before letting yourself drop back down. Quinn groaned at your movements, fingertips digging deeper into your skin.
You repeated the motion, setting a gentle, soft speed in order to let him relax and indulge in the pleasure. It felt good for you too, but you were fighting to resist the urge to go faster. You found yourself so lost in thought that you barely registered the feeling of Quinn’s hips snapping up to meet yours, picking up the pace slightly before settling back down and letting you take over.
“Fuck, Y/N. Feels so good.” He moaned, letting his head fall back onto the couch.
Leaning forward, you began to litter kisses on his neck, eventually switching to suck on his skin, leaving purple marks along his shoulders and collarbone. Quinn sighed, letting his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your lips on his skin as well as at the feeling of the relatively slow pace he had managed to keep you at.
“You’re so perfect.” He babbled, losing himself in the pleasure, “So sweet to me, ready to help me relax after such a long night.”
You whimpered at his words, the sweetness of them rushing straight to your core. “Quinn.”
Quinn perked his head up slightly, “Yeah? What do you need, baby?”
“Need to go faster. Please.” You begged, the slow tempo becoming unbearable.
He nodded, using his hands to guide you into a quicker speed, your hips dropping onto his faster than they had before. The desperate desire to cum was increasing by the second, and Quinn knew it by the way your moans got louder and your walls clenched tighter around him.
You were trying your best to keep up with the pace you had longed for, but the burn in your thighs was getting harder to ignore and with your hands being bound behind your back, there wasn’t much you could do to support yourself, “Quinn…”
“Tired already?” He teased, grabbing your jaw so you’d face him, “Imagine how I felt tonight, baby. Got shoved and slashed every time I got the puck.”
You cried out, the knot in your stomach getting closer and closer to snapping. “My hands! Please, Quinn. Please.”
Quinn only wanted to push you so far, so keeping your hands tied at this point just seemed cruel. He tussled with the tie for a moment before unwrapping the knot, letting your hands breathe. One immediately found his shoulder, using the newly added support to help them speed up to a pace that had Quinn moaning, while the other found a home in his brown locks in order to avoid his bruise.
“Fuck. Gonna make me cum.” He groaned, “Don’t stop, Y/N.”
His words alone were enough to tip you over the edge. You whined as you let go, body trembling as you submitted to the euphoria, face dropping to rest on his shoulder. The feeling of you leaking all over him caused Quinn to cry out, his release coating your walls white as he nipped at your neck to muffle his sounds.
Your connected bodies stayed limp, heavy breathing echoing off the walls as you both came to. You were the first to move, pressing a kiss on his shoulder before tilting your head to the side to get a look at him.
Quinn’s eyes stayed shut, chest heaving as calmed himself down, his body feeling at ease for the first time in 24 hours.
“Relaxed?” You asked, leaning up so you could look at his face properly.
He blinked his eyes open to meet yours, “Definitely. We should really do that after every game.”
You laughed softly, pressing a loving kiss on his lips that he gladly reciprocated, “If it makes you feel better.”
#jo speaks#quinn hughes#vancouver canucks#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x reader#qh43#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes x you#nhl smut#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes x y/n
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You asked for holiday fic ideas…
I was thinking ice skating with lanky Remus and he’s just so good at it and it’s shocking but clumsy reader keeps falling down. Just something fluffy and cute
(I know ice skating isn’t technically just for the holidays but that’s what I think of typically)
Love you darling <3
I think of ice skating that way too! Thanks for requesting <3
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 548 words
“You weren’t supposed to be so graceful, you know.”
Remus smiles, skating alongside you while you grip the wall of the small outdoor rink for support. Sunlight refracts off the ice, making it look glittery and almost blindingly white, and at the top of the rink is stationed a plump fir tree, standing tall despite the oversized ornaments weighing it down. It had been your idea to book the two of you an hour-long slot in the rink, and you’d been even more excited about the plan when you found that Remus, like you, had never been ice skating before. Unfortunately, it seems he’s let you down by not being a complete disaster at it.
“Would you rather I was falling all over the place?” he asks you.
“Yes,” you answer. No hesitation, but you make it up a sheepish smile. “You have a higher center of gravity. It doesn’t seem fair that you’re naturally gifted.”
“Right, I see. I’ll try to make more of an oaf of myself.”
“I’d appreciate if you would.” You’re smiling. It crinkles the corners of your eyes adorably. “We were supposed to hold hands and be awkward and clumsy together. It’s not cute if it’s only me.”
“Of course it is,” Remus says, softly enough that you look at him like you’ve not quite heard. He touches your shoulder fondly. “I’m sorry to have ruined your plan. We can still hold hands, if you like.”
You look like you’re considering it, but you don’t take your hand more than a few inches away from the barrier before it’s flying back. “Thanks, but I think I need them both.”
Remus can see how you would. You’d given ice skating a valiant effort, but after a series of falls he’s sure will result in a patchwork of bruises around your knees for him to kiss later, the wall has become your most treasured ally.
“Do you want me to grab something that will help?”
“If you mean one of those penguins the kids are using, I’m going to cut our hour short.”
Remus chuckles. “We can go, if you want to.” Although the sun feels nice, the wind is cold. He’s willing to bet that if he pinched the tip of your nose between his fingers it’d be half frozen.
You look over at him in surprise, then soften. “I don’t actually want to leave,” you say. “I was only joking. This is fun.”
“Is it?”
“I don’t know, are you having fun?”
“I am,” Remus admits. “But I can stand on my own two legs. Are you having fun?”
You shoot him a playful glare, but your smile undermines it. “Yeah.” You shrug, self-conscious. “I mean, I’m a bit edgy, but I’m still glad we’re here. I always have fun with you.”
Without his permission, a coo comes from between Remus’ lips. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, careful not to put any weight on you as he kisses your head. “Oh, you’re such a melt,” he says into your hair, teasing. You laugh but don’t push him away.
Eventually, you let him take your hands. Remus isn’t good enough to skate backwards, so you stick close to the wall, wobbly and faltering, but that’s alright. Now you’re awkward and clumsy together.
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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Bark, bark, snort, grrr
(The ex idea comes from @st-el-la-luna, absolutely brilliant darling ❤️)
Content: Voyeurism, Mild Injury, Possessive/Protective Behavior
Johnny, for all his quirks and… weirdly human tendencies, is an incredibly good sport. Particularly about letting you put him in Santa hats and wreaths, ugly sweaters and snow socks. He poses for every picture so dutifully, looks so serious and annoyed up until you plant smooches on his head or cheek and that silly lupine grin comes out.
He’s been your perfect little heater ever since the heater started to go on the fritz. It keeps shutting off or turning itself lower than it’s meant to be, leaving you shivering before you realize something is amiss. It’s not so broken that you’re willing to interrupt your solitude to have someone come fix it. But you’re grateful for a big fluffy body laying on your feet or snuggling under the blankets with you.
As the winter sets in, you tromp out with him in the snow a lot. Often use his sturdy shoulders and better footing as a crutch to navigate without slipping. He always gets fussy when you do, dancing in his feet and snuffling at your coat, urging you up.
One morning you wake up after a fresh snow, expecting that you’ll have to clear the driveway and porch - only to find it freshly shoveled and salted. It would spook you, except you’re sure Johnny would have woken you up barking his head off if it was anything to worry about.
Your mother calls about holiday plans in mid-November. You hedge around any commitments, hand buried in Johnny’s fur, saying that you don’t want to leave your precious pup at home.
The combined efforts of both your parents, your sister, and a cousin you actually like makes you cave eventually though. They promise it’ll just be family, that you can even bring Johnny. You grimace at that - debate getting him some meds from the vet…. But he’s been doing better on walks in town.
The weird assurance that it’ll “just be family” should have been a red flag.
When you arrive at your parents’ place, several gift bags and Johnny (with a bow tie on his collar) in tow, you find your ex there. On the couch. Next to your least-favorite cousin and your sister.
“What’s he doing here?” you ask sharply.
“Well, you two were engaged—”
Johnny’s ears shoot straight up as you tense.
“Yeah, and then he cheated.”
“People make mistakes. If you would just hear him out.”
“I don’t care what he has to say. And I don’t care what you have to say either.”
You drop the bags in a heap and click your tongue for Johnny. He falls in with you instantly, leaning up against your side. You get all the way to your car before you hear your ex’s voice calling your name.
You try to hurry, but there’s ice and the last thing your dignity can take is slipping right now. Luckily, you have the perfect deterrent before you ex can even get within arm’s reach.
Johnny snarls, so deep and loud you feel it in your own chest.
“Jesus!” your ex cries, coming up short. “Where did you get that thing?!”
“Johnny picked me. More than I can say for you.”
“Don’t be like that, I’m picking you now.”
“Oh, did your girl best friend lose all her daddy’s money?”
His cheeks light up neon. Huh. Got it in one.
Then he dares another step and Johnny lunges. You just get a hold of his harness but it’s enough ward your ex off a bit more.
“He’s very loyal,” you add. “Also more than I can say for you.”
“Baby, just listen—”
“An upgrade all around, I think.”
You round your car, climb into the driver’s seat with Johnny standing guard, then let him clamber over you into the passenger’s seat. At the front door, most of your family is gathered and staring. You flip off your ex one last time before peeling out of there.
The tears come after you’ve gotten back home. Johnny licks your face until you stop crying, then leads you inside. The two of you curl up on the couch together, his face buried in your stomach. You fall asleep there and dream of a man’s voice whispering love and comfort in your ear.
—
A week later, your ex shows up.
You’re out in the yard with Johnny, watching him zoom through the snow and laughing as he speeds by. Your ex must hear you because he comes round the side of the house.
And Johnny. Goes. Ballistic.
Literally, he hits your ex like a missile, taking him into the snow and snarling like something from hell. He’s got his teeth in your ex’s designer coat, ripping it to shreds. It’s frightening; you’ve never felt safer.
“Johnny!” you call. A growl. You walk closer, kick a bit of snow at both of them. “Johnny, down! Leave it!”
And he does, finally does, though not without taking a good chunk of fabric with him. Your ex, wide-eyed and pale, panting, doesn’t bother to say a word. He scrambles away while Johnny barks after him, all canine and spit.
You hum as he returns to you, fabric in his mouth, tail wagging.
“What a good boy,” you coo, taking the partial sleeve and inspecting it. Louis Vuitton, it looks like. “Very good. My perfect boy.”
You drop his prize into the snow and snort as he wastes no time peeing on it. Well, that’s gonna stay there. Forever.
“C’mon bud, you deserve a treat.”
Johnny follows you happily inside, a new pep in his step.
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a ghosts graves
In the aftermath of a battle, Phantom, Batman, and Superman could be see talking between each other.
During a lull in the conversation a tiny girl comes running from underneath caution tape taped around the vicinity, holding a bouquet of marigolds between her small hands. She’s out of breath and seems to be embarrassed when she stands before the heroes, Batman reacts the quickest to the sudden encounter. Asking her about why shes here and what the problem is, he’s about to ask about her parents when she interrupts with “i have something for mister Phantom”.
Danny who had been only half listening was caught off guard, he looks at her and tries for a reassuring smile but his confusion must show through because she suddenly looks down shyly at her flowers.
“I heard from mommy that you put flowers on graves for people you like, ” she starts, “i don't know where yours is though, so i got you flowers to put it wherever it is”. She’s obviously embarrassed about interrupting, but she says the words with a form of determination. Suddenly what seems to be her mother comes running from out of the crowd.
“I am so, so, sorry for Miya, i didn't mean to loose sight of her, she slipped away, we’ll get out of your hair now. ” the woman says in a rush, gently tugging the child back from the slack jawed heroes. Danny can just make out her gently reprimanding the child for her behaviour when he suddenly steps forward. “Wait, wait, wait” he says quickly, crouching down to the child now hiding a bit behind the mother, “you got me flowers. . . so i can put them on my grave?” the tiny nod he gets from that has him smiling, “you wanted to put flowers on my grave?” is asked with excitement, gaining n even bigger nod in return.
He takes a small step forward, still crouched, and asks “are you alright with me hugging you?”, the nod lets him quickly move forward a spin the child around in a tight hug, laughing. He smiles brightly at the girl, holding her in his arms with enough space to make sure the flowers were safe, who is smiling back just as brightly. Danny laughs, “no ones ever given me flowers before! And you want them on my grave!” the actions have gained the attention of both civilians and other heroes, Danny could honestly care less though, someone wants to put flowers on his grave! Someone went through the effort of giving him flowers! He is so excited!
Both the mother, Superman, and Batman all look uncomfortable, “have you. . . never gotten. . ahem. . Flowers before?” Superman asks, “i mean, you look young so. . . have your parents never. . . ?”, the ending never gets finished but its definitely implied what he wants to really ask. Danny doesn't care, its not exactly important, right?
He looks at the heroes and says cheerily “i don't think my parents even know im dead!” before looking back at the child in his arms, not seeing all the shocked, pale faced staring( minus Batman, he never emotes, like, at all).
Eventually the kid has to leave due to dangerousness of the area, but not before a final hug and happy goodbye from Phantom after she hands the flowers to the undead hero. Danny says his goodbyes to the surrounding heroes, not understanding why they all look at him funny as he carries around the marigold bouquet before he flies off. He holds the flowers close to makes sure they dont get destroyed by the wind, but he cant help a few happy loops and twirls in his flight home.
The first ever flowers for his grave, how exciting!
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Ever since then the heroes and a few civilians make sure to give Phantom flowers each time they see him for his grave. Phantom is so excited people want to give him flowers each time a new set is given to him.
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wooooooo ok
i finally actually wrote something after so long, sorry for the long break between shit, stuff happened :/
sorry if there's any big misspellings or anything like that in here, i had an idea and wanted it down as fast as possible and i fucking ran with it as far as i could lol
y’all can continue this if you want, i just thought this idea was so cute
have a good night/day/afternoon/life
#my writing#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#batman#superman#danny phantom#danny fenton#the supers are horrified#lmao#so is that one random civilian#her child doesn't get it so shes safe from the horror#lol
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tarot tea spill session ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 .. ˚ .
₊ ˚. ⋆☾⁺ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 ༘ ೀ
{discussing the "you can't love others if you can't love yourself" argument... and reading tarots about it.}
As someone who has struggled with self-esteem, I was kinda took back by statements like that. "You need to love yourself first to love others", like what do you even mean I hate myself yet I still can love!!! And then I thought about it and realized that maybe the wording is not the best, but the idea of the message is right. A healthy sense of self love is pretty hard to get, you can lack it and still be able to feel love, receive love and nurture affective relationships. I think that the main problem about low self-esteem and relationships, is that having an unhealthy relationship with ourselves, can lead to having unhealthy relationships with others. Not because we are bad people or defective for having insecurities, it's not about being incapable to have nice relationships, its about the things our insecurities could fuck up about said relationships or the toxic dynamics we are willing to engage in due to insecurity. I won't go around pretending like healing your perceptions of yourself is a quick easy process that can be solved just by feeling hot and empowered, things that actually kinda help if your mind is in the right place, but my intention here is to share what tarots have to say about how we can make sure we are seeking love because we want to and not because we need to.
{dividers by: @anitalenia & @cafekitsune}{images from pinterest}
this reading is not conceptualized in an hetero-centric way, it is for the femme aligned people or people who are somehow in tune with their feminine energy.
pile one pile two pile three
.‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚
✧˖°. pile number one 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹
𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 ✧ 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 ✧ 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎
You might be expecting love to behave in a way that you consider coherent, almost as if there had to be some kind of logic behind affection, care, and feelings. This might be due to the fact that you keep yourself “under control” by rationalizing your own feelings, yet you are mindful of showing a comfortable amount of emotion with others, but not too much to the point where it makes you feel overly vulnerable or out of control. You might be slightly weirded out by people who seem to express emotion in a way that's explosive or feels disorderly. Although this might be a coping mechanism to maintain the structure and stability that keeps your impulses in check, I see that at some point you will begin to embrace a more genuine way of communicating your romantic needs and emotions. It might feel to you as if you are always expected to act and talk about love in a way that’s very mindful, very demure, instead of being honest about a more passionate nature you keep hiding away. I don’t think you are exactly an overly romantic lovesick person, but I do think that you actually enjoy romantic relationships, and you actually have the will and the tools to create a bond where vulnerability and honest communication allow for both parts of the relationship to be comfortable with being as intense about it as you need to. Also, you deserve the same care you give to others, but they won’t be able to provide it to you if you are not willing to communicate that need. You are not going to go off the rails for having noticeable emotional reactions or for being open about your struggles. There’s people and places where you might feel uncomfortable being emotional, but you are wise enough to know who is willing to put the effort into comforting you and allowing you to further explore that side of yourself.
✧˖°. pile number two 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗 ✧ 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚞𝚙𝚜 ✧ 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜
It seems as if you are still mourning what to you is a loss of your sense of self. And let me tell you, you did not lose yourself, you might have temporarily lost the ability to radiate your energy in a way that you felt was attracting the right things in your life. I think you are definitely being too hard on yourself about a perceived missed opportunity, nostalgia about romanticized parts of the past are messing with your sense of identity, and your sense of hope. At this time you are not capable of thinking outside idealized memories, you are blinded by feeling fragile and incapable of further change. These feelings clearly are not something that comes from your inner self, they have been internalized due to being imposed on you. Being so stagnated in the past makes you unable to focus on the actual opportunities that will come to you in the future, you know there’s a lot of positive things, people, and experiences that can come into your life, but you are unable to see them or accept that possibility as something that you deserve, as something that you inherently are capable of attracting. You need to trust yourself, and trust that centering your life around the brightest parts of yourself, your virtues, your abilities, your personal power, is the way to go. You are someone who is actually capable of radiating the sort of energy that brings emotional, spiritual and material abundance, but you are focusing on the wrong ideals, and not allowing yourself to take the protagonist role in your own life. The fact you bring a lot of value to others, doesn’t mean your own value depends on it. The beauty and the joy you have experienced before, is a direct result of your own capabilities and your own effort, make sure nobody makes you channel that energy in places where it’s not worth it.
✧˖°. pile number three 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹
𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 ✧ 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 ✧ 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜
Although you might feel more comfortable if you could prove people wrong, it's more necessary that you are able to move forwards from the situations that make you question your self worth. You don’t need to “conquer” your fears, your anxiety or your insecurities, you need to move away from them if they are a product of imposed ideas or learn to navigate the ones that come from yourself, in a way that allows you to grow without the need for intrapersonal or interpersonal conflict. At times it might seem as if you are incapable of deciding how things happen or how they go, chaos is actually quite difficult to walk through, but I see that you are highly capable of expanding your perceptions beyond what is deemed conventionally functional. At the moment, there’s not enough resources available for you to properly express yourself or to align with your higher self, but there’s subtle opportunities to thrive in harsh environments if you are capable of acting according to your own ideals instead of what your ego demands. I think you will find the peace of mind, and the appreciation you deserve when you understand that sometimes it’s not necessary to fight for the things you want. There’s nothing wrong with willing to work hard and to sacrifice, but it can become unhealthy to you if you’re always put in situations where joy comes only if there’s struggle. There’s a lot of meaning and value in things that come easy and naturally to you, don’t let others question it or take them away just because you are not “putting effort” to get where you deserve to be. Everyone deserves praise and admiration when they are as naturally preserving and nourishing as you are. Your excellence might make others uncomfortable and overly questioning of your success, don’t let their own self doubt become yours, and don’t engage in needing validation from sources that are not actually positive for your own self development.
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#tarot blog#tarotblr#tarot reading#tarot#tarotonline#free tarot#pick a card reading#tarotscope#daily tarot#pick a card#tarot community#free tarot reading#pac tarot#self development#glow up#it girl energy#becoming that girl#that girl#coquette#girlblogger#girlblog#divine femenine#divine feminine#divine female#divine guidance#spirit#channeled message#channeled reading#tarot readings#tarot cards
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CROSS THE LINE | Jude Bellingham
pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader, unnamed fictional RM player x fem!reader
word count: 3.1k
summary: after a fallout with your boyfriend, you find solace in a spontaneous night at the movies, where you run into his golden boy teammate. one thing leads to another and you cross the line.
A/N: first judith fic!! this was really fun to write. (very loosely) based on guilty as sin by taylor swift. let me know what yall think <3
warnings: infidelity (i don't condone it yall its just fun to write morally gray characters 🫣)
someone once told you there’s no such thing as bad thoughts – that it’s your actions that truly define you.
you wonder what they’d say if they saw you now: sitting up in bed with your boyfriend sound asleep beside you, staring at your phone with a pounding heart, silently hoping, waiting, for a message from someone else.
you wait and wait, but there’s nothing. your home screen stays empty, mocking you. you glance at your boyfriend. his shallow breathing fills the quiet room, steady and oblivious.
he has no idea you came home at 3 a.m. wearing his teammate’s jacket.
you'd stuffed it in the back of your closet as soon as you got home, a relic of a night that shouldn’t have happened. you'd scrubbed yourself thoroughly in the shower, trying to wash away the smell of jude’s cologne that clung to your skin. but it’s still there. not on your skin anymore, but in your mind, stamped into your memory to stay forever.
the way the flickering lights from the movie theater screen cast shadows on his beautiful face, the fleeting feeling of his warm hands on yours as he handed you his jacket, the full body rumble of his laugh, the feel of his soft lips on yours.
you will never forget. how could you, when that was the first time in months you’d felt seen? desired. wanted. needed. it’s an intoxicating feeling, like stepping into the sunlight after living in the shadows for the longest time.
and now, staring at your phone, you feel it all over again. the pull. the wrongness of it all.
a buzz breaks the silence. your heart jumps into your throat as the screen lights up and a single message appears.
jude: you got home safe?
it’s innocent enough. simple. harmless.
you could ignore it. pretend you didn’t see it. block his number and put an end to whatever this is before it spirals into something else.
but instead, your fingers move on their own accord.
you: yeah. thanks for checking.
you press send before you can stop yourself. you lock your phone and put it on the bedside table before closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep.
to your credit, none of this was planned. it all starts earlier that night. you and your boyfriend are supposed to have a date night, a rare opportunity to spend some alone time together. you pick out a dress he once says is his favorite and make a dinner reservation at his favorite spot.
but plans change quickly.
“babe, the guys just texted,” he says, barely looking up from his phone. “they’re hopping on fifa in a bit. you don’t mind if we raincheck, right?”
you stare at him dumbfounded as he flops down onto the couch.
“raincheck?” your voice trembles, the tears obvious, yet he doesn’t even glance at you.
“yeah. just tonight, we’ll do something soon,” he says dismissively.
it’s not the first time he’s blown you off, but tonight it stings a little more. maybe it’s the fact that he’s so indifferent to you and your feelings, he doesn’t even care to notice the relationship is teetering on the edge of a cliff. he doesn’t realize that you’re making an effort to save it while he’s unknowingly contributing to its unraveling.
you realized it too late, but you know now you’re not a partner to him, not really. you’re a glorified accessory, someone he can show off for external validation, a dependable constant in his life that’s only there to cheer him on and make him look good while he gives his attention and energy to the things he actually cares about: his friends, his family, and above all, his football.
it wasn’t like this in the beginning, but things changed quickly after he made the move to real madrid and became a bigger star. with every goal, every headline, and every paparazzi photo, you sank further into the background of his life.
you linger for a moment, waiting for him to change his mind, to look up and realize what he’s doing. but he doesn’t. so you grab your bag and leave without saying another word.
the cinema isn’t your first choice. you wander the streets for a while, debating whether to call a friend or just head home. but you need a distraction, something that can dispel all the thoughts running through your head. so before you know it, you’re buying a single ticket to whatever is playing next.
the theater is almost empty. it isn’t until you sit down and glance at your ticket that you realize you’re not seeing something new, but a re-release of a classic: Goodfellas.
halfway through the movie, you see a figure slip into a seat a few rows ahead of you. a few moments pass, and you feel a pair of eyes boring into the back of your head. it’s distracting, like an itch. you can't bear to ignore it any longer so you turn your head and look straight at the person. the figure quickly shifts his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the screen. his features are hidden thanks to the hoodie he’s wearing, but his height and broad shoulders give him away as a man.
you hold your gaze for a second longer, just to make sure he gets the message, before turning back to the screen. but your focus is broken after that.
a few more moments pass and you notice the man stand and make his way out of his row. you let out a quiet breath of relief, assuming he’s leaving. but from the corner of your eye, you see the same figure moving toward your seat. your body stiffens immediately. why is he coming your way? maybe it was a bad idea to come to a nearly empty theater alone so late at night.
you watch as he stops in front of you and slightly crouches to not block the view of the screen.
“y/n?” he asks, voice low yet familiar.
“uh, yeah?” you respond warily.
“thought it was you.” he pulls back his hood, revealing the grinning face of jude bellingham.
a wave of embarrassment immediately washes over you. it’s bad enough that your boyfriend doesn’t love you and prefers to spend time playing video games with his friends, but now you have to run into his teammate of all people while you’re publicly wallowing in your misery—his kind, handsome teammate who always makes you flush whenever you cross paths.
this time is no different. your face grows warm as you stutter, “oh! h-hi, jude.”
you brace for the questions: why are you here alone? where’s your boyfriend? why do you have tear stains on your cheeks?
they don’t come though. instead, he gestures to the seat next to you. “mind if i join you? my seat over there was right under the AC; i was freezing.”
you nod. jude flashes you a smile as he takes a seat.
and then nothing. you watch the rest of the movie silently, the only interaction between you being an elbow nudge from him to offer his pack of candy.
he’s completely engrossed. he laughs silently at certain scenes, and in the more intense ones lets out small gasps. for someone else, it might’ve been annoying, but for you, who’s used to your boyfriend’s indifference to everything, you find his enthusiasm refreshing, maybe even a little endearing.
you spend the rest of the movie mentally going through the list of things you know about him : he's the same age as you (your boyfriend begrudgingly posted a birthday wish on his instagram story once), he can't drive (you see him being picked up by a driver whenever you visit valdebebas), he's genuinely nice (he always says hi when he sees you around, and he's politely held a door open for you once or twice), his spanish isn't the best (you once ran into him hopelessly trying to change his order at the canteen, sheepishly apologizing to the annoyed barista before you helped him out), and your boyfriend quietly holds a dislike for him because he's 'attention seeking' ( you secretly think its not his fault that he's charming and easygoing, that he has everyone he meets wrapped around his finger).
when the movie ends and the lights begin to brighten, he turns to you.
"do you wanna get ice cream?"
you hesitate for a moment.
"yeah. i’d love to," you say finally.
you exit the cinema, and when the fresh outdoor air hits you, you ask the question at the tip of your tongue.
"why and how are you here?"
"could ask the same for you," he grins.
"yeah, but—" you begin, but are immediately silenced by the sight in front of you. jude reaches into the pocket of the jacket he's layered over his hoodie and pulls out a dreadlocked toupee. with the straightest face, he carefully pulls down his hood, places the wig on his head, and adjusts it before pulling the hood back up.
you blink.
"you were saying?" the corners of his mouth twitch at your facial expression. without waiting for a reply, he starts walking, leading you away from the cinema.
you walk in tandem, still giving him a confused look. when you catch sight of his (fake) locs swinging along to the rhythm of his steps, you can’t help it; you burst out laughing.
“what’s so funny?” he turns to you, a mock hurt look on his face. “i’m part jamaican, you know.”
you pause your walking, doubling over and clutching your stomach as you laugh. he stands patiently, looking slightly amused.
after you catch your breath and fully recover, you continue walking.
“so that’s how you go places unnoticed?” you ask, still giggling.
“yup,” he says. “otherwise it’s a nightmare. need a bodyguard and stuff.”
you nod sympathetically as you stroll down the quiet street, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the concrete. jude walks with an easy confidence, his hands in his pockets while you glance over at him and his toupee every so often.
“so,” he says after a moment, glancing sideways at you, “what’s your excuse? why are you at a late night showing of Goodfellas all by yourself?”
your smile falters slightly. you look straight ahead, debating how much to share.
“just needed to get out of the house,” you say with a light tone.
jude doesn’t push, though the way he hums softly in response tells you he notices your answer is only a half-truth.
"what about you?" you ask.
"I like watching movies," he says simply.
when you give him a somewhat confused look, he pulls out his phone and opens the letterboxd app, showing you the extensive list of movies he's marked as watched. you skim through it and you’re surprised by the diversity. the list is seemingly filled with movies of all genres, from classic films to indie flicks. you didn’t expect this side of him, but somehow it makes sense.
as he enthusiastically explains the list, you can't help but feel endeared by the excited look on his face. you have the overwhelming urge to reach out and smooth over his furrowed brow with your finger. but for the first and only time that night, you don't act on that impulse.
you reach a small gelato stand located on a corner of the street, its neon sign glowing softly. jude steps forward and leans against the counter.
“pick whatever you want,” he says, winking as he passes you the menu.
“don’t mind if i do,” you say, raising an eyebrow. you ignore the way his words make you feel—warm and fluttery, like this is a first date between two single people.
after a moment of deliberation, you pick pistachio and hazelnut, watching as jude leans in to order the same for himself.
“you copying me?”
“nah,” he says with a smirk, passing your cone to you from the server. “just figured you have good taste.”
you wander away from the stand, both of you savoring your ice cream. for a while, you walk in comfortable silence. at one point, he removes the ridiculous wig from his head. it isn’t until you reach a park bench that jude breaks the silence.
"you know," he starts. "i haven’t seen you at a lot of games lately. everything good between you and your boyfriend?"
“‘your boyfriend?’” you tease. “why not call him by his name? you guys have beef or something?”
he stays silent.
you gasp half-jokingly. “oh my god! tell me everything, so i can sell the story to the tabloids.”
he lets out a laugh at that.
“you’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“c’mon, spill,” you tease, nudging his arm lightly. “is he, like, selfish? does he refuse to pass during games?”
jude chuckles, shaking his head again. “nah, nothing like that. he’s a good player. talented, hardworking… you just start noticing things when you’re around someone all the time, you know?”
he says it carefully, almost hesitantly. you tilt your head at him. “notice things like what?”
he shrugs, his gaze dropping to his melting cone. “like… maybe he doesn’t appreciate what he’s got.”
the words hang in the air between you. you don't know how to respond, so you just gaze down at your own ice cream.
"sorry," jude says quickly. "didn't mean to overstep. i just—forget it."
"no, it's fine," you say quietly. "you're not wrong."
you sit in silence for a few moments. you feel him lean back against the bench, and the next time he speaks, his tone is lighter.
"my dad's coming to visit tomorrow," he says casually, an excited undertone in his voice.
"yeah? that's nice. does he come often?"
"not as much as i'd like," jude admits. "he's got my little brother to worry about in sunderland."
you smile softly. “what do you guys usually do when he visits?”
"usually we grab some food..."
he speaks about his bond with his dad, and also his close relationship with both his brother and mother. soon the conversation moves to childhood memories; jude tells you stories about growing up in birmingham, the football academy there, how he met his best friends at school. in return, you share stories of your own childhood, each one met with genuine curiosity from jude. you laugh, the conversation feeling effortlessly easy and natural.
it isn’t until you pull out your phone and glance at the screen to check the time that reality crashes back in. you have a boyfriend waiting for you at home. a boyfriend who hasn’t called, hasn’t texted, hasn’t even noticed that you’ve walked out of his house.
you lick the last remnants of your ice cream and are just about to crunch into the cone when jude gestures toward your chin. “you’ve got a little…” he says, trailing off as he points.
“oh,” you mumble while jude scans your surroundings for a tissue. finding none, he leans in and gently swipes at the bit of ice cream with his thumb.
“got it,” he murmurs, his touch lingering just a second longer than required.
what happens next can only be described as a a lapse in thinking, or maybe something you've been holding back all night. before your brain can catch up with your actions, you grab his hand and bring his thumb to your lips. you lick the ice cream away, your eyes flicking up to meet his.
jude freezes, his breath catching, his deep brown eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.
"i—" you start, but whatever explanation you're about to give disappears when jude leans closer, his hand hovering near your face, as if waiting for your permission.
you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.
his lips brush against yours, hesitant at first, testing the waters. when you don’t push him away or move back, when, instead, you lean into him, his kiss deepens. it’s slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world to memorize every inch of you.
the ice cream cone in your hand is forgotten, melting onto the pavement as your fingers tangle into his hoodie, pulling him closer. the world fades, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble.
when you finally pull apart, your breaths mingle in the night air and jude’s forehead rests against yours.
“jude…” you whisper, but you don’t know how to finish the sentence.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression serious. “tell me if I’ve crossed a line. i don’t want to make things harder for you.”
your heart flutters at the genuine care in his tone. you shake your head. “no, you didn’t.”
he doesn't keep his lips off you after that.
the next morning, you wake up feeling better than you have in months. there's a lightness in your chest, a warmth that’s been missing for what feels like forever.
you glance at your boyfriend, expecting to feel guilt or remorse. but there’s nothing. no pang of regret, no twist in your stomach. you feel... nothing at all.
you watch him roll out of bed and get ready for training. not a word passes between you as you sit down together in the kitchen to eat breakfast.
“so, what does your day look like today?” you try.
he doesn’t even look up, his attention entirely on his phone, scrolling with one hand while holding his fork with the other.
“i have a meeting at work that’s pretty—“ you start, but he cuts off.
“we’re doing penalty drills,” he mutters without looking up. “need to score more than bellingham so i can wipe that smug smile off his face. did you know he gets paid more than me?”
you just stare at him. you wonder what you even saw in him all those years ago. how had you overlooked the bitterness in his eyes, the envy? how had you missed it all along, his resentment towards anyone who seemed happier, luckier, more successful? his good looking face looks distorted to you now, forever changed to you to reflect the ugliness he holds inside. its as if you’re seeing him for who he really is for the very first time.
your phone buzzes on the table. without even checking, you know who it’s from.
jude: good morning :) sleep well?
you see it for what it is: an invitation to step into dangerous territory, to cross the line once more. a lifeline offering escape from the sinking ship that is your relationship.
you decide to take it.
you type a quick response and set the phone down. your boyfriend is grinning at an instagram reel now, completely absorbed.
you don’t speak to each other for the remainder of breakfast. this time it doesn't bother you at all.
#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham x y/n#jude bellingham fanfic#football fanfic#football imagine
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alumnusbf!mark helping you study
pairing: alumnus mark (who’s also your bf) x reader
genre: fluff
summary: you’re stressing over this one subject until your bf appears
“fucking hell” you mutter, your finals were in a week and you were currently studying the subject you have been dreading since the beginning of the study period. Studying for exams was not fun. Especially when you had this gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that you were 100% going to fail.
markie
hey babe, you busy?
upon hearing the notification, you cursed at yourself as you swore you put your phone on do not disturb to avoid distractions .Yet here you were grabbing it to check the notification. turns out you did put your phone on do not disturb but since your boyfriend (who had to practically beg you to get removed off there texted you) was the origin of the notification, your phone still notified you.
being too lazy to write back, you just decided to call him
“hey, what’s up? I’m studying for my finals right now” you say after greeting him “oh really? I’m sorry to disturb then, how long have you been studying?” your boyfriend mark asks “hours. i literally had a full on mental breakdown studying the course because i suck at it and it feels like no matter how hard I study I just keep on failing” you say sighing “did you cry?” mark asks, maybe he knows you a little too well. “yea” you sigh yet again, it bothered you to see how big of a toll your academics were taking on you
“that’s a good thing then! wait no I don’t mean you crying is a good thing I meant it’s a good thing I’m on my way with food and stuff to give you a break” your boyfriend says making you laugh “mark, look I really truly appreciate it but I also really need to study” you say. honestly seeing how fucked you were because of this one course you couldn’t allow any distractions, and lord knows mark was a pretty big one
“no I know, we’ll just eat and then I’ll help you study. trust when I’ll leave you’ll be back in your academic weapon antics” mark says. after weighing your options (not that you had much of a choice seeing as though he was already on his way) you figured that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. you had the chance of having a boyfriend who already graduated which meant he already passed this course so maybe it’d actually help
“hi babe, i brought food” your boyfriend says, you were glad you had a boyfriend that supported your big backed antics. “i might make you my male wife at this point” you said as he hugged you. you guys then decided to turn on the tv and put a show none of you cared about for the sole purpose of having some background noise.
“okay, we’ve been slacking off for long enough, let’s get to studying now” your boyfriend says. you almost forgot about your finals for a second.
“okay, we’re done making the flash cards, quiz time” mark says quietly laughing upon seeing your face. “every right answer you get, i’ll kiss you” he says finding a way to motivate you as you looked like you were on the verge of dying. “I don’t think it helps, you distract me too much. i’ll probably only remember the kisses and not the actual class material” you reply. As much as it didn’t look like it you were seriously (for once) in the mood to study, you couldn’t let this pretty man distract you no more.
a short while after you were thrown over your desk defeated because what do you mean you only got like half the questions right???
“I don’t understand I’ve spent literal hours trying to memorize this shit I’m sick of it I just want it to be over” you sigh, this is the first time you’ve struggled this much over a school subject. usually being a bit above average doesn’t require you a lot of efforts so you never really tried that hard to pass your classes throughout the years. college beat the shit out of you tho!! you found yourself completely taken aback by the difficulty and you had to learn how to properly study throughout the years. if somebody asked you, you’d say you’ve got studying covered but seeing how this study session was going maybe you didn’t…
“I think you’re getting those wrong because you don’t understand this part” mark says patting your head as you mumble an ‘i know’. being the very considerate boyfriend he is, he then proceeded to explain the entirety of the material, dumbing it down whenever you looked up at him confused or when your eyebrows frowned a little too much. he also was so very patient, explaining the same things to you three different times as you had already forgotten what he said as soon as he moved on to another topic.
the dedication mark put into your academics was just too much for your heart to handle, you loved him so much and the fact he didn’t mind spending his evening studying with you instead of doing literally anything else warmed your heart. that’s why you didn’t have it in you to tell him you were getting gradually sleepier and were fighting your mind to stay awake because how could you when he looked so good concentrated trying to explain to you what you deem as the most incomprehensible subject ever.
“y/n? i feel like I’m losing your attention are you- oh.” mark says finally looking up from your study sheets seeing you asleep on your desk “pft, I didn’t know I was this boring damn” he laughs. since you were already in your pajamas and were in a position where the man could not carry you to bed he decided to gently shake you to wake you up “hm? I’m sorry I fell asleep markie, thank you for studying with me I love you. let me read the cards again to make sure I understand better” you say your voice a bit groggy “what? no go to sleep, nothing you read now will be effective just rest and sleep will take care of the memorizing for you” mark says preparing your bed for you “okay but only if you join me” you say already laying down under your covers “of course dude, let me put the things away and I’ll join you” mark says as he looks over to your half awake self that’s seemingly waiting for him
being in front of your final paper makes you realize even more how lucky you are to have mark in your life because you knew damn well that if the study session never happened you would have been shitting bricks internally crying over how much you don’t understand but now you got out of the final feeling confident you didn’t fail. you ran up to mark who was waiting for you to celebrate final period being over and he couldn’t help but mimic your immense grin as you told him how the final went better than what you had expected and thanked him for his help. He did refute by telling you it was all you and your mind but settled on taking a little bit of credit after you threatened him.
it was kinda crazy how mark made everything easy, every single thing without exception. looking at your boyfriend eating his meal you couldn’t help but smile thinking about how much you loved that man and how lucky you were to have him in your life.
#mark lee#mark x y/n#mark x you#mark x reader#mark fluff#mark imagines#mark drabbles#nct dream#nct dream drabbles#nct drabbles#nct#nct 127#nct fluff#nct imagines#nct mark#kpop
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The Healer
masterlist
viktor x anhedonic!reader [1.4k][AO3]
cw: implied/referenced depression, suicide, suicidal ideation, self harm
summary: Anhedonia set in and the idea of exiting life's stage became all the more appealing. But you've heard about The Healer and perhaps he can save you.
tags: gn reader, S2 Viktor, post-Act 1, anhedonia, angst, depression, suicide, SI, SH, viktor gardening?, reader's just admiring him atp, not betad, not encouraging anybody to join any cult
a/n: idk if vik's abilities extends to making plants appear but for this pretend it does
if you're unfamiliar with what anhedonia is, it's a symptom of a larger condition (can be depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, more), characterised by the inability to experience physical and/or social pleasure. makes existing difficult, like you're dragging so much pointless weight and everything feels high effort, so what's the point.
just a brief description (based on what i've learnt from it in research and experience), so i encourage learning more to get it more in depth if it interests you or sounds too familiar.
You prayed for an easy coax out of the darkness.
The little home of scrap fabric and heartbroken brick you built throughout the years was becoming more and more dilapidated, though its original state had never been of full health to begin with. And like it, your body’s ridges became prominent, visited by unexplained bruises, warmed by the thickened hair on your skin, and yet living on had always been the only option you saw—no, the only option you allowed.
You’d breathed long enough to outlive many of those around you. Whether it was becoming grey-lunged corpses, enforcer punching bags, or a Promenade diver, everybody knew somebody who, sooner rather than later, knelt to kiss Death’s feet. Surrendered. Be it by their own or another’s will.
Then it fell upon you: the swole blanket of indifference, of apathy. It cloaked your mind, buried your defences that was defiance, which had been the only source of survival you’d had left. But snuffed out now.
And how easy it is to think of self-inflicted inexistence when it seems nothing else matters.
Oblivion would whisper in the corner, a demented, deformed dog snarling yet begging your hand’s comfort. Come to me. And you can’t find good reason as to why you shouldn’t.
This… healer—a man whose touch could gild any man’s sick and bestow him a new life, a new body, a new mind—you’re not sure when he arrived. But the whispers morphed to murmurs which morphed to rumours and unfolded itself into your side of the city’s underbelly.
Was he the answer to your prayer?
You made journey to the place you’d heard he’d made camp, and it unfurled before you and stole all expectation and put them to rest. Because for once, the Sumps had colour, had life.
At the centre stood a strange, globular… building? Just like stained glass, its surface was of mute Spring colours, translucent, swirling lattice-work reminiscent of butterfly wing patterns.
He’s a tall thing. A beautiful thing. His metal body cloaked, careful, and coded with grace. Each movement was deliberate, no gaze shared unintentional. How had he come to exist? How had this world birthed your people’s suffering but, as well, him?
You want to laugh at the sick irony. Whoever’s dealing the cards need their hands cut off.
“What ails you?” he asks, giving you such soft regarding you can’t help but be rendered speechless.
In truth, you’re not sure. Physically, you know you’re lacking, but so was everyone so why are you different? In your head there sits a temptress, attempting to lure you to the edge of buildings or blades, but she had no name. No one speaks of her.
The healer tilts his head, seeming to take a better look at you. He looks so kind. Such eyes, opalescent, have seen suffering, and you know it.
“Life,” you give a one-shouldered shrug, smiling. “I… I’m not actually… uh, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” you take a step back.
What had been the point of this? Attempt what? Healing? What’s this man to do?
“No,” he steps closer, his voice swathed in a strange mechanical whir. “Stay,”
You’re sure that by the furrowed desperation on you, it convinces something inside him, as he turns and beckons you with a nudge of his head. So you follow.
Each step he makes creates a heavy thunk beneath him, and though you don’t feel its impact, merely by sound you feel the weight of him. How had he acquired such a body? Modded fingers, let alone limbs, cost years of your wages—you can’t imagine how much his entire body might have cost.
“I can feel something plaguing you,” he begins, shifting slightly to catch a look of you.
You scoff but it doesn’t quite match your face.
“Then what brought you to me?” he shrugs and looks away, leading you to the side of the Sumps where a clear plain rolled out.
You watch as he kneels and reaches for the soil, taking it between metal fingers.
“I’m not sure,” you kneel beside him, shoulders bunching up. “What are you doing?”
He hums, smoothing the ground and creating indents, “I’m assessing,”
You lean forward, folding your arms and hanging your head to look at him.
The metal frames his face, just barely hidden by chestnut waves, curling beneath the jaw and around the ear.
He’s got a rather angular beauty to him, something belonging to scrutiny and studiosity. Even his strong brows follow theme, arched forward in a focused furrow, over narrowed eyes homing iridescent irises. You’re not sure if he’s from this world. Or if the world was gifted him.
Your attention trails back to his hand, and he digs his fingers beneath the soil. Then, hand glowing beneath the metallic muscles, the ground is imbued with a light, where then verdant stems spring alive.
You choke back a gasp, glancing about as the spindly bodies uncurl and reveal yellow petals. Roses?
Whipping back to him, you take note of the glow leaving his eyes, shock threading through your system.
When you glance back at the flowers, now surrounding the both of you, you can’t help but think: logically, how you might have reacted would be with pleasant surprise, glee, even.
Such occurrences, the arcane or a mere flower field, was a coveted sight, and without a doubt you would have felt the surge of optimism. But instead nothing happens. Instead it’s unmet anticipation and expectation sitting at your belly, pooling into grey disappointment.
It’s when you look back to the healer that you realise this disappointment must have shown on your face. He inclines his head so slightly, blinks, as if saying I understand. And he smiles. He smiles and it’s the gentlest thing ever given to you to hold and witness.
You want to crumple, to lay graves for your limbs and disassemble each part that ever dared to exist only to suffer. There used to be anger, and at the very least there was indignation. At topside for their neglect, your parents or finding each other, for finding something beyond the misery and creating you. Where had all such righteous resentment gone?
“Viktor,”
You look up to see the healer’s hand stretched out, asking for yours in return. And you oblige, shaking it gently, before pulling away only to be held with soft restraint.
“You are welcome to stay,” his voice becomes tender, becomes more human almost, aimed purely for your audience. “Even if what torments is not outright seen. I welcome all,”
Your breath comes out long, carrying with it the tired days in the dark. The healer… Viktor makes no acknowledgement of this but just another observant blink, the corners of his mouth slightly tightening.
“Wasn’t gonna die or anything,” you joke, flattening your lips and hoping it registers as a smile, however trying it may appear.
“Eh,” Viktor shrugs, turning his attention to your hand and turning it about as if trying to see new angles. “A slow death is still a death,”
This makes you frown. Why has he assumed? But why is he right?
“The slower it is, the more painful, I think,” he remarks, but he seems almost far away. “As you watch what is left of you wither, and all you can do is… hm, watch,”
Then you understand. Something in your chest tightens as you take in once again all this stranger is. “You’re well-acquainted,” you note, coming out barely as breath and observation, spoken clearer by the narrowing of your eyes than your own voice.
He looks at you again, and something’s changed. His eyes? It seems. There’s something more amber about them, more grounded in this singular hue. “My longest companion,”
You hum, nodding.
There’s a safety in knowing you’re understood, even if they’re not able to fix you. It cloaks you warmer than summer, than any consolation offered in pity—he understands. And perhaps not the very same that brandishes you, but in some aspect he knows.
Which is what makes you ask, “Can you fix me?”
His eyes resume that pearl sheen once again and you’re mesmerised, gaze flitting between each eye in deep investigation—tell me who you are, how you are; tell me how you’ll fix me. Like the field around, the sweet sunshine hues of the roses, to make your land more than just barren.
And he does. He raises his other hand, uncurling, coming to hover by your face. “May I?”
You breath sweeps back in and you nod, leaning forward and connecting his cold fingers to your cheek.
He notes you for a moment, saying nothing, doing nothing. It’s his gaze that makes you feel naked, removed of any pretence crafted carefully. But he shifts his attention and his fingers connected with your forehead, eyes overtaken by a white glow.
Your vision drowns in the white.
a/n anhedonia's been hitting me and this is the only thing i could muster to make so here we gooo. not my favourite, feel like i could've done it better but oh well, least i made something wahooyaaa writing is coping after all 🫵🏼😃🗣️
requests + taglist open!
[this is a reupload, i have no idea why the original post disappeared :''')]
#arcane#arcane spoilers#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane viktor#arcane fanfic#arcane viktor fanfic#vitya arcane#viktor x gn!reader#viktor x reader#viktor x you#gn!reader#nausicaas fics
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𝑅𝒜𝐹𝐸 𝒞𝒜𝑀𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒩-𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲 𝒜𝐿𝒫𝐻𝒜𝐵𝐸𝒯
A - Aftercare Rafe isn’t naturally nurturing, so after sex, don’t expect a lot of softness. At best, he’ll bring you water or pull you into his chest before drifting off himself. If he really cares about you, though, he’ll surprise you by asking if you’re comfortable or finding out what kind of aftercare you like, especially if it lets him feel like he’s still got a hold on you.
B - Body Part Rafe’s all about curves. He’s obsessed with your chest and can lose himself with his face buried there. Hands on your hips or gripping your ass make him feel in control. He’s never subtle about what he likes, constantly touching and grabbing, and he’ll keep you bare or wearing next to nothing around him whenever he can.
C - Cum He has a thing for going all out, Rafe likes filling you, feeling your body take it all. He wants you to wear his cum with pride, especially if he’s given you an intense session. Seeing you dripping or tasting himself on you after he’s come is something he finds insanely hot, and he loves it even more when he sees the evidence left on your body.
D - Dirty Secret Surprisingly, Rafe was a bit inexperienced early on, relying more on his charm than actual skill. By the time he left high school, he made up for it by racking up experiences and learning what he was good at. He keeps a list of his past flings on his phone, but once he’s with you, he drops them all without a second thought, focusing on making you the only one.
E - Experience Rafe knows he leaves a mark on his partners, he has a reputation and lives up to it. Girls talk, and he’s perfected the art of being unforgettable. He doesn’t care what others think, but he makes sure that anyone he’s been with can’t deny he’s given them their best.
F - Favorite Position Missionary is a favorite because he loves seeing you completely surrendered under him, and it lets him go as deep as he wants. From time to time, he’ll flip you over for backshots or reverse cowgirl, but when he’s in control, he prefers positions where he can watch you come undone beneath him.
G - Goofy Rafe isn’t one for being soft or playful, but he’ll tease you with low comments and half smirks, edging you on until you’re blushing. His humor leans toward the cocky, and he can get borderline mean with it, but he knows how to switch back to sweet, making you crave his approval.
H - Hair He keeps himself trimmed, just enough to keep it looking good. When it comes to you, he has specific preferences and isn’t afraid to say so. He’ll even pay for you to get waxed to his liking and find reasons to run his hands over your skin, making sure it’s smooth exactly the way he likes it.
I - Intimacy Emotionally, Rafe is guarded, and letting people in takes time. He’ll put in minimal effort at first, maybe taking you out or showing a bit of softness in bed. When he’s really invested, he’ll put his walls down little by little, expressing feelings in small moments, like brushing your hair back or giving you a lingering kiss before he leaves.
J - Jack Off Before you, he rarely needed to get himself off, with plenty of people willing to satisfy him. Now, when you’re apart, he’s not shy about thinking of you. He’ll send you a teasing text, describing exactly what he’s doing or even sharing a video of him jerking off just to let you know he’s thinking about you.
K - Kink He’ll deny it, but Rafe has a major breeding kink. He loves the idea of marking you with every ounce of him, but he’s careful about birth control, kids aren’t on the table. Spanking, domination, and a little bit of roughness are also big for him, and he lives for the sound of you calling him “Daddy,” even if he’ll pretend he doesn’t care.
L - Location Rafe’s not picky about location. If the mood strikes, he’ll go for it, on the kitchen counter, the couch, the back seat of his car, or even a public restroom if you’re game. He finds the thrill exciting, knowing that no one else can have what he’s taking.
M - Motivation A short skirt, a revealing top, or even just a look can set him off. He loves seeing you in something daring that’s barely covering anything. If you want to guarantee a reaction, playfully irritate him, acting oblivious until he decides to take control and set you straight.
N - No Too much neediness and clinginess are quick turn offs. He’s also a stickler for cleanliness, Rafe has a thing for freshly showered skin and expects you to be just as particular. Anything he finds “too messy” is off limits, but he still likes the idea of a bit of tasteful mess with you.
O - Oral He’s fantastic at giving and knows it, but there’s something he adores about having you on your knees. He likes the power in watching you struggle to take him, eyes tearing up as you gasp. He’s probably saved a few videos of you doing it, too, for when he’s traveling or just in the mood to relive it.
P - Pace Fast and relentless is his go to. He likes to be rough, making you lose control under him. When you ask, he can be slow, but he’s naturally intense and prefers it hard, especially when he knows you crave it.
Q - Quickie He loves a quickie. There’s something exciting about doing it fast, especially in the morning before he leaves, when you’re still sleepy. It lets him satisfy both of you just enough to get through the day.
R - Risk Rafe’s got a bit of a daredevil streak and isn’t afraid to take things up a notch. He’ll push you to try new things, pulling out toys you might not expect. He’s careful with anything serious, but he enjoys pushing you to see what you’ll try with him, obviously with your approval.
S - Stamina Rafe can last, and he’s not quick to tire. He’s built up the ability to go hard for extended periods, and he’ll keep you busy for hours if he’s in the mood. His recovery time is long, so he makes the most of it while he’s at his peak.
T - Toys Toys are his thing, on you, not himself. He’ll edge you, tease you, or even set up punishments, loving the control it gives him. If he has an event to attend, he’ll put a remote controlled toy on you just to watch you try to keep your composure, thrilled by the power he holds.
U - Unfair Rafe’s a relentless tease and knows exactly how to push you to the limit. He’ll mock you to get his way, letting his words mess with your head until you’re practically begging. There’s nothing he loves more than watching you struggle, even if it means dragging things out.
V - Volume He’s loud, grunting, and moaning like he owns the space. Even when he’s supposed to keep it quiet, he won’t hold back. He’s unbothered by volume, getting off on knowing that people might hear him with you.
W - Wild Card Rafe loves buying you expensive lingerie, only to rip it off the second you put it on. After nearly getting kicked out of a changing room for getting handsy, he’s restricted to window shopping until he can make you show off at home.
X - X-Ray Rafe is well endowed, big enough to leave a lasting impression. Every time, he stretches you to the limit, always knowing exactly how to work you up for him, but he’s careful not to go too hard unless you’re ready for it.
Y - Yearning Rafe’s sex drive is high, and he rarely wants to wait. Even when he has work to do, he’d rather be with you, and he’ll get impatient fast if he doesn’t get to satisfy his urges.
Z - Zzz The second he’s satisfied, Rafe’s out. You’ll get a lazy arm around you, maybe even a kiss, but he’s usually fast asleep within minutes, with the barest amount of cuddling before he’s out cold.
#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe obx#rafe x reader#obx#obx x reader#rafe smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafe x you#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron obx#obx smut#smut
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Yandere Nagas
Their gender(s) are up to you. Yandere nagas x gn reader
Idea I might think more on later
Several yandere nagas you take care of that are in a type of zoo. They’re abnormal in that they’re not the typical rumored antisocial kind. They have a more human-like nature added to their personalities, making them rather sociable. However, they’re such a rare and unique creature, that they’ve been put in the zoo for show. It’s actually for their safety. Many others that were found in the wild were either illegally hunted and killed or died by the harsh climates their body just couldn’t tolerate.
At the zoo upon their first meeting with each other, they had separate caves in the enclosure. There are no windows or cameras for them to have their privacy if they wanted, but it wasn’t needed. They all shared so the cave was remodeled to be one big cave.
They’re incredibly intelligent and picked up on human language very quickly. They were taught by the previous “caretaker” of them, but they sensed some malice within that person. They killed him when he brought in a gun one night and tried to shoot them. After that, the new “caretakers” were thoroughly run through to make sure there was no illegal hunting background. They found the old one was found of poaching a tiger and skinning it, then brung it back to his house in a different country.
After that, you started, and they were all drawn to you instantly. You hate to admit it, but you were fascinated by them. You always wanted a pet snake and love the feel of their scales. You just didn’t have the money at the moment to properly take care of one.
Their love for you grew all the more when you noticed one of them acting a little different and figured out fast they had some sort of illness that wasn’t contagious to humans. They were separated for a while for treatment, and you made sure to visit them frequently as to not let them get lonely.
The end of their tail started to latch onto your bare ankle whenever you were nearby cleaning their sterile enclosure. You didn’t mind it and accidentally let it slip you like their scale’s texture.
They took that as the go-ahead and latched on more. It got worse when the sick one went back to being with the others since they all wanted in on it. At least they’re careful and make sure you never fall and hit the ground.
One thing is they don’t know personal space so it becomes more and more common to be wrapped in one or more of their tails one way or another.
It gets worse when the days start getting colder. They have their heated cave, but it just isn’t enough in their opinions. They want you in the cuddle pile.
One day it’s a record-breaking cold that slips through the glass even with the zoo’s best efforts. It was late at night and you were finishing up searching for any holes to temporarily fill with foam to easily find and be fixed later.
One distracts you while another trips you. A third quickly coils around you and a fourth does the same, also covering your mouth as they drag you into the rather dark cave. Only a very dim light in the ceiling making you just barely able to see their traits. The temperature difference is rather great.
The other two quickly follow in and quickly find a place around your body to coil as well.
You’re piled and stuck in a knot with the nagas wrapping and coiling snugly around you. Their heads, torsos, and tails all going together to not leave any uncovered skin besides your face and hands.
The nagas all fully agree they do not want to let you go, and will find any way possible to make sure you can do this again. Maybe they can talk the zoo owners to allowing it and making you stay~
Struggling is absolutely fruitless with all the solid muscle around your body. Even if you managed to escape, there are four compared to just one of you.
… well, at least they’re smart enough to not coil tight enough to cut off your oxygen. Almost though.
#yandere x reader#x reader#yandere x you#yandere nagas#yandere naga x you#yandere naga x reader#yandere idea#naga x reader
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toji fucking you in a pillow fort please 😘
“b-be careful!” you’d whimper out, watching the male get into the pillow fort all clumsily as he was trying to make his wide shoulders fit in the entrance, having you worried that the effort you put into it would come to waste.
“don’t worry baby, i got this, see?” he’d chuckle after being able to sit down next to you, it being quite spacious actually, just the opening was a lil too tight for toji but he managed to fit in alright.
and after watching a movie or two and eating some snacks, the two of you began to make out after few lil innocent kisses, having the older rub at your tits and pussy through your undies, your legs falling apart the second his hands touched your body.
his fingers would find their way into your panties, slipping under the lining of them, rubbing at your sensitive lil nub, kissing you hungrily yet so carefully, trying his best not to move too much so he wouldn’t ruin the pillow fort you put so much effort into building.
fitting one, then two and then three of his fingers inside your sweet lil cunt, he thrusted them in and out swiftly, having you curled up in his arms, your small hands gripping on his forearm that was wrapped around you, panties long gone slipped off and shirt pushed up, nipples all hard and red from the male’s rough hands playing with them.
your legs curling and shaking on the soft blankets you set on the floor so the space in the fort was as comfy as possible, so fucking wet and out of it that you could barely think, cuddling up to the older, clinging onto him like a tick.
he curled his fingers inside your little hungry pussy, watching them go in and out, listening to those wet sounds and your quiet shaky sighs.
“i want you inside me..” you let out, looking up to the male, breath all messed up.
“but what if i mess up the fort honey? you put so much effort into it, i can’t do that to you.” he whispered softly to you, carefully running his fingers through your hair, obviously teasing you, stroking your warm insides nice and deep.
“you h-have to be careful and fuck me here right now, okay?” you said, kissing the male, whining against his lips, holding your legs back nicely.
and oh, he could never say no to you, of course. not when you were adorable like that, all needy for his dick, begging him to show it in and fuck you raw just like that, surrounded by the softest blankets and pillows y’all had, knowing you must’ve felt safer and better than ever which turned him the fuck on.
seeing you tense up and then go completely limp under him after he pushes his cock inside you would always be his favorite thing to see, shirt hunched up, tits bouncing up and down as you held your legs back and he fucked you hard, yet being careful enough not to mess up the fort so you wouldn’t be sad afterwards.
“i’m gonna cum t-to.. i’m gonna fuckin’ cum.” you cried out, staring up at the older, all of this turning you on so fucking bad, feeling so safe and sound yet nasty and perverted for the cute idea of having a lil movie night date gone to the male fucking you like a slut.
safe to say that the fort lasted even after three rounds of fucking but toji getting out in the morning unfortunately was the breaker point.
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