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darkbluekies · 3 months ago

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Christmas tendencies

Yandere!king x fem!reader

Summary: spending Christmas with Edmund can't go wrong<3 can it?

Warnings: Edmund not being nice, in fact being quite naughty, jealousy

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: i thought it'd be a waste to not post this when it was so near completion! So please enjoy and have a merry Christmas if you do celebrate it♡

As if on purpose, the snow has graced the earth for Christmas after not showing itself for the entirety of december. But now, a thick layer of snow covers everything that was once dead and grey. You can’t help but feel excitement. Maybe Christmas with Edmund won’t be hell after all?

You’re standing in one of the gigantic windows, looking out over the castle grounds—the very same you’re not allowed out in. The castle’s gardeners have decorated every bush, every tree, with lights and decorations.

“You’ve been standing here for a good forty five minutes now, my jewel”, Edmund says as he walks over to you, fixing his golden cufflinks. “How much more interesting can it get after ten?”

“You don’t get it”, you reply over your shoulder. “The gardeners have spent a lot of time decorating the grounds, shouldn’t one get to admire their hard work?”

You feel how Edmund comes up behind you, sneaks his arms around your waist and buries his chin into your shoulder.

“The staff has put a great detail into the interior too”, he mumbles. “Why don’t you stare at that for an hour or two?”

You scoff.

“I think it’s pretty”, you reply and turn your eyes out the window again. “With the snow and everything. Besides, I’ve already inspected every decoration inside, I helped hang them up.”

“You did, and it’s very pretty. Just like you. I like your dress.”

It’s a red velvet dress reaching down to the floor with long, cape sleeves.

You turn around to get a look at him. He's wearing a black suit with loose white pieces that puff out. Golden cufflinks and a white bow. His fluffy dark hair has been brushed back, face newly shaven—although there never was anything to shave to begin with.

“You look like you've been tortured”, you joke.

“Haha, funny”, he replies sarcastically, clearly not impressed. “I've told them time and time again that I have an extremely sensitive scalp but no one listens, they force me to do silly hairstyles like this. I think I must have lost at least half of my hair.”

You reach to fix a strand of hair that escaped his hairstyle. You can feel him shudder under your fingertips.

“You’ll live”, you say. “Besides, you look more grown this way.”

“Do I?” Edmund smirks proudly. “Do I look manly?”

“Don’t push it.”

He scoffs.

Weirdly enough, Edmund has agreed on letting you out of the castle today. Just because it's a special day. The townsfolk are having a market that you have begged to visit and who is Edmund to deny your Christmas wish?

“Are you ready, my love?” he asks and takes your hand. “The carriage it out on the front yard. Let’s get this over with.”

“Can’t you at least pretend to be excited?” you ask with a sad pout.

He sighs and rolls his eyes before nodding.

“I’ll have to take a long, scolding bath right after coming back”, he mutters. “Who knows what kind of diseases they can carry? Oh, you’re taking that bath with me, by the way. My Christmas wish.”

He’s like a child when it comes to your bare body, getting eyes wide as moons when he gets to see the most vulnerable parts of you. It confuses you. In his past he has allowed himself to a majority of women and their bodies, so why does he look at you as if he’s never seen it before?

It’s one of the few times you see him without his cocky exterior. He looks at you with eyes of gratitude, as if showing yourself to him is the greatest gift of mankind.

Edmund holds your hand tightly as you walk out to the royal carriage. The driver holds the door open for you, but Edmund insists on helping you up in it. He sits down in front of you. The carriage is decorated with golden details and small cherubs.

“You don’t have to look like you’re being driven to your execution”, you say and raise your eyebrows.

“I’m not happy about this”, he says. “This is something you want.”

“Can’t you be happy for me, then? Please, Eddie?”

His cheeks take on a red tone. The nickname has only been used by you, ever. You gave it to him, you’re the only one that is allowed to say it. The firs time you had said it, he hadn’t known how to react. He had been staring at you with large eyes, wondering what prompted you to give him a nickname when no one else had ever imagined to do such a thing. At first, he was unsure what he thought of the name. He was king Edmund. Had once been prince Edmund. Rarely Edmund. Never Eddie.

“Fine”, he says and clears his throat, trying to play it off. “I’ll try. But don’t call me that when we’re there.”

“Are you scared that the townsfolk will lose respect for you if they hear that you have a cute, little nickname?” you giggle.

Edmund rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward.

“No”, he says, smirking devilishly. “Because I don’t want other people to know what you call out in bed.”

Your jaw hangs open in shock and you grab the pillow behind your back, hitting him. Edmund covers himself with his arms, laughing.

“Watch the hair!” he shouts.

“You didn’t like the hair anyway”, you remind him.

“It’s Christmas, you’re supposed to be nice. Don’t be naughty!”

“Naughty? Who the hell started talking about naughty stuff? You started it!”

Edmund laughed. His blue eyes glittered.

The carriage rolls into the town. You turn your eyes out the window to look at what you’ve been watching from afar. You get out together, Edmund holding onto you so that you don’t fall. The townsfolk keep a distance, knowing that the knights will go to attack if they come to close. Their bright eyes watch on as if they’ve seen something extraordinary. And maybe, you think, for them this is something extraordinary.

Their eyes follow you to the christmas market.

“All eyes are making me shy”, you whisper to Edmund.

“Drink it all in, darling”, Edmund replies quietly. “They worship you, but not as much as I do … and if they try I’m going to kill them.”

“Be quiet!” you hiss.

Edmund scoffs and rubs your back with his hand. You walk through the streets to the town’s square where multiple small sheds are put up, full of candy, baked bread, knitted goods and alcohol. While you walk around chit-chatting with the vendors, Edmund stands close behind you, a hand on you always. A warning, to everyone around you. You are his, and no one is going to forget that—absolutely not you.

You buy something from every stand and insist of carrying it yourself. Edmund can’t understand why you want such … cheap crap. He can give you the same things but done well, made by professionals who cost him a fortune. He doesn’t let you eat anything and keeps a constant, watchful eyes around.

“Smile a bit more, why don’t you?” he mutters in your ear.

His jealousy is like a wildfire, spreading through him quickly and dangerously. With no easy way to stop it.

“Edmund”, you whisper quietly. “Stop it.”

“You bought so much from that man”, he continued. “What did you hope to achieve?”

“Edmund!”

He stays silent the rest of the Christmas market. As soon as you get back to the carriage, he can’t keep quiet anymore.

“Those are so fucking ugly”, says as the door to the carriage closes.

“That is so unnecessarily mean”, you hiss back at him. “They don’t have what you have. They do their best. And, for having as little as they do, I think they look great.”

You hold your new treasures in your lap closely.

“I don’t want to spend more time with you if you’re going to be like this”, you mumble without looking at him.

You’re happy for your new things. But he doesn’t understand. Edmund sighs heavily, clenches his jaw and nods.

“Okay”, he mutters and takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry … but I could have given you so much better things. If you wanted new mittens, I could have given you them. These things … who knows what could actually be in them?”

You put on the hand knitted mittens.

“Take them off”, Edmund says, but he doesn’t sound angry or demanding like before. “Darling, my jewel, I’m serious. I don’t want you getting a rash, or something.”

“We’re taking a bath when we get back, don’t we?”

Edmund sighs and gives up. You hold up your hands.

“Aren’t they kind of cute?” you ask. “A little?”

“Fuck no.”

“What if I had made them?”

“You wouldn’t have. If you had knitted mittens, they’d be a thousand times better.”

“You are so mean.” You keep your eyes on your hands. “You were jealous out there too.”

“Of them? Of those filthy peasants?”

“Of those men.”

Edmund leans back in his seat, jaw tightening.

“Men”, he scoffs and turns his head towards the window. “I wouldn’t call them ‘men’.”

“Childish jealousy doesn’t look good on a king”, you point out.

“You like it when I’m childish though. You laugh, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“You don’t need to be jealous over them. I don’t know them.”

“Everyone wants you. And it makes me sick.”

“Everyone wants you too.”

“They want to be me. But they want you. And I will never let that happen. You are mine.”

“I know. You’re the last person to let me forget that.”

When you get back to the castle, the two of you walk straight to the bathroom where the maids have poured a hot bubble bath that is burning to the touch. Edmund holds you close to him in his arms.

The rest of the day is spent in the big living room, in front of the gigantic christmas tree that needed a dozen workers to decorate. Edmund wanted the entire town to be able to see the lights from his tree.

“Merry Christmas, my love”, he says and holds out a red box.

You remove the wrapping smd open the box, finding a necklace with large, round pearls. It's heavy in your hands, and even heavier around your neck.

“These pears cost me quite a lot”, Edmund says and touches the pearls carefully. “But they're cheap in comparison to what my love for you is worth.”

And he means it. He really does.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere king #female reader

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postracehair · 4 months ago

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a small request

max verstappen x reader | 2k

even world champions deserve love letters. after missing the mexico gp, you're determined to see max have a good weekend in brazil. maybe all it takes is a handwritten note.

cw: fem!reader, being in love, softness, a track-side kiss, love letters. and google translate, sorry to any dutch speakers.

a/n: was this inspired by that video from austin? yeah, it was! sue me! also, written/posted before the gp, so. no race details <3 xx

You miss race weekend in Mexico. It happens. You can't be there every weekend, much as you'd like to be. You're even more peeved about it after, considering you quite like Carlos and wish you had seen him earn what very well might be his last win with Ferrari. But you're mostly upset because Max, though he won't say so, could probably have used your support.

Years of experience have him calm, cool, and collected despite the team troubles. Flippant, some headlines say. Mad Max, others. But you know he's probably just tired. Tired of the media, of the FIA, of the churning conflict between him and Lando -- something you all knew was coming someday, but maybe not so suddenly. The longest season ever continues to drag and drag and drag.

"Twenty seconds was...Christ, Max," you say. You know what happened, of course. You watched what you could, saw the sharp moves around the corner and heard the radios. It never gets easier, watching him take risks like that. Usually, everyone else backs off, but McLaren can see victory on the horizon and won't let it go. You can't blame them, either of them, you just wish it was all a bit less tense.

"I know," he says, voice raspy over the connection. "I -- well, you know how I feel about it. Don't want to say anything in case the FIA is tapping my phone."

You laugh into your hand so you don't disturb the other people in the airline lounge, not entirely used to places like this, still. Max has told you over and over that it's absurd for you to spend your own money when you're coming to see him all over the world. When you told him you moved things around so you could come to Brazil, he booked you the nicest ticket, per usual.

"Oh, ha, ha," you say. "Don't give them any ideas, Mr. Community Service." You sigh. "Do you need anything? Be honest."

"Aren't you at the airport already? Your flight should be leaving in --" A pause, like he's checking his watch -- "forty minutes."

You glance up at the departures screen. He's right, but you don't give it to him so easily. "Know my schedule, do you?"

"Well, I booked your ticket, so I should think so."

"Your assistant booked it, you mean."

He hums and you picture him in his hotel room, maybe at the window, looking over the city. "I know your flight information. Don't be silly."

"I mean it, Max," you say again. "Is there anything I can do to make the weekend better?" It's a bit of a useless question and you expect him to answer with a snarky get me a new car or apply for the position of steward.

But he doesn't. He clears his throat.

"I'm just glad you're coming," he says, softly. "I've missed you."

You never doubt how Max feels about you, but he must be pretty tired to admit it like this. He's all about actions, this man. Making sure you have what you need when you're at the track, arranging your travel, remembering your schedule. He shows you how much you matter, and that's more than enough. He never wants to make you feel bad for having a life beyond being his girlfriend. And this doesn't, not really. It just makes you ache, fills your chest with the hopeless affection you've felt for him for so long.

"I've missed you, too," you reply. "But I'd like to be useful."

"Oh, I can think of a few things, then," Max says, all of a sudden all cheek. Such a boy, sometimes. A boy in love.

You can't help but laugh, face hot. "Hush, you!"

He huffs. A few beats of silence, the comfortable, well-worn kind. Sometimes, when he's halfway across the world and up late on the sim, he'll call you just to hear you breathe.

"Max?"

"I -- do you remember what you did for my birthday?"

He'd wanted something small, quiet. There was a lot of work to be done with the team but three weekends off meant you had a little time to yourselves. A few days hardly leaving his place, a dinner with some of the guys, a cake you made yourself, hand-delivered in bed. Gifts for a very wealthy man are difficult, especially since Max doesn't seem to want much.

"Oh, the pillow with my face on it?"

Max laughs. The lounge loudspeaker announces that your flight is going to board soon, so you gather your things but keep your phone wedged next to your ear.

"No, the other thing," he says. He clears his throat and summons some of that World Champion courage. "The letter."

You'd written him a fairly long love letter, thinking it would be a nice thing to carry to the races you couldn't be at this fall. It was tempting to be embarrassed about it when you gave it to him the morning of his birthday, but his cheeks had gone pink and he'd buried his face in your neck.

"Oh, that," you say. The airport is busier outside the lounge and you push your case in the direction of your gate weaving between. people.

"You could write me another, maybe."

Max is direct. He is honest, at work and at home, but this surprises you a little.

"You do know I'm about to get on a plane to see you, right?"

He huffs, and you imagine his cheeks pink, eyes bright. "You asked!"

"I'll write you another love letter, Max Verstappen," you assure him. "I'll write you a hundred."

"One is a fine start," he says firmly. "You should be boarding soon, and I've got to go to the press conference. Text me when you've landed?"

"Of course," you reply, eyes rolling though he can't see. "I'll see you soon, okay? Love you."

"Love you, liefje."

On the plane, you tear out some pages from your journal. You'd prefer to have some nice stationery like what you wrote on for his birthday, but maybe this is more romantic, more real. Making do with that you've got because he asked.

In the last one, you told him your memories of when you first met. How your stomach swooped when you made him laugh, how his blue eyes wouldn't leave your dreams. In this one you tell him about when you first realized you loved him. How absurdly early you were sure, how badly you wanted to tell him for weeks. The way you remember every second of when you blurted it out -- his face, his smile. His voice in your ear, telling you over and over, geliefde, ik houd van je, zo veel. I love you, so much.

"You're working hard on that," someone says. You look up at your seatmate, a woman a few decades older than you with a heavy accent.

You feel a little like you've been caught doing something illicit, but you just smile at her. "For my boyfriend," you tell her. "A love letter."

She flattens her palm over heart and sighs. "How lovely," she coos. "I hope he takes care of you, too."

We take care of each other, you want to say. You could tell her about how he sends you postcards from every country he goes to after you told him you like to put them on your fridge. You could tell her how sometimes you text him during his streams to make him laugh on camera. How he remembers your favorites, how he saves you his special team gear, how he sends you flowers all the time. How he likes to sit on the couch, your toes under his thigh, fingers around your ankle. How you've been learning Dutch and how he patiently corrects your pronunciation. You could go on and on and on.

"He does," you say instead.

The plane lands safely in Brazil, but the pilot tells you that there is no open gate and that you'll be sitting for a while. You text Max.

stuck on tarmac, will be later than expected! :(

He must be in media responsibilities still because he doesn't reply until you finally get off the plane.

go relax at the hotel. i'll see you for dinner!

You find your ride easy enough and take a deep breath. The letter you wrote on the plane feels heavy in your pocket, and you just want to see Max. To be near him again. To give him this small thing he asked for.

"Excuse me," you say to the driver. "Do you think we could go to the track, instead?"

You text Max's assistant to say you're headed there, hoping it's not too much of an inconvenience. You're told he's almost done, maybe an hour left, and when you arrive you're led to his driver rooms. His shit is everywhere, per usual. Max is quite neat except in here -- Carmen once told you that George is the same. Clothes strewn about, his race boots unlaced and left in the way, warm-up equipment in a pile. On the table are a few of his things -- his wallet, a notebook, some papers.

Wait a second. One of those papers looks...familiar. It's been folded in three, the envelope it came in nowhere to be seen. His name is scrawled on the blank side in your hand and when you tug it from the pile you can see that it's creased, the edges a little more worn than when you gave it to him a few months ago. Max Verstappen, three-time World Champion, actually carries around the love letter you wrote him. Brings it to the track. It's darling. You love him so much. You pull the new one from your pocket and set them side-by-side on the table where he'll find them.

You ask to be taken to the pit wall, please, so you can see whatever the drivers are doing on track. Some dedication, you're told. The timing ends up being perfect and you get there just as they're finishing. You lean on a gap in the barrier where, on Sunday, crew members will be holding timing signs as the drivers zip around the hot pavement. The crowd in the stands is loud, as always, and maybe you imagine it but it seems to get a little louder when you look out.

The guys are talking amongst themselves and a few of them wave at you. You spot Max as he turns away from Charles and you can't help but grin. His eyes meet yours under his cap and his entire face chances, softens, and he breaks into a jog. You lean out over the concrete ledge and meet him in a kiss that's more two smiles pressed together than anything else.

"This is a surprise," he says when he pulls away. Eyes sparkling, he shows no signs of rejoining the other drivers as they head to whatever their next thing is. Photos, probably.

"I missed you," you tell him. "I've left you something in your room."

"Oh?" He straightens the lanyard of your credentials with careful fingers.

You reach for him, palm on his cheek. His stubble tickles and he leans into it ever so slightly. It doesn't feel like there are thousands of eyes on you, not even a little.

"Yeah," you say. "As promised." Someone calls his name. "Go on, then. I'll be waiting."

He kisses you again, a quick brush of his lips on the corner of your mouth.

Later, you'll wake from your nap in the hotel room to those same kisses on your cheeks, your forehead. Max will gather you in his arms and tell you all the moments he almost told you he loved you, how he could hardly believe when you said it first. You'll tease him for how many times he's read that first letter and he'll cheekily say that's why he needs more. And you will write him more, you'll write him as many as he wants. As many as you can, for the rest of your lives.

But now, in front of thousands of screaming fans, he smiles at only you, boyish and pleased.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #mv33 x reader #f1 fanfic #my writing #mv33 #fic: a small request #beep boop

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cutielando · 20 days ago

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what's a soft launch? | max verstappen

social media au

synopsis: in which Max soft launches his new girlfriend, his boss' daughter...

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: max verstappen x horner!reader

my masterlist

Instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, gigihadid and 4,192,472 others

yn.horner thank you for having me, VS 🎀

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gigihadid you're gorgeous <3 so happy to have had you there with us

yn.horner awwww thank you g!! ly!!!🤍

zendaya you killed it!!🤍

yn.horner thank you babe!!🫶🏻🫶🏻

user1 my jaw is on the floor.

user2 MOTHER

user3 SHE'S THE MOMENT, SHE'S THE MOMENT❗️

user4 imagine how lucky her friends are🥲🥲

alexandrasaintmleux i am so proud of you <3

yn.horner thank you, alex!!! 🤍

lilymhe how are you so beautiful? 😭

yn.horner you tell me, love 😭🤍

redbullracing our girl! 💙 liked by yn.horner

user5 i need to know what Christian had to say about this lol

yn.horner he was in the front row 😅 he loved it!!

user6 so nobody is going to address Max being in her likes??

user7 they’ve known each other ever since he joined Red Bull, i think they’re friends. not that weird

user6 true, but i heard some rumors that he might be in a relationship too…

user8 your honor, i love her ! liked by yn.horner

liked by yn.horner, landonorris and 2,103,476 others

maxverstappen1 Always a pleasure to be back in Abu Dhabi

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user1 NEW COUPLE ALERT ❗️❗️❗️

user2 is Max in his soft-launch era?

user3 MAX HAS A GIRLFRIEND??????

landonorris sneaky, mate

maxverstappen1 thanks for teaching me

user4 i never thought i would see the day when Max would learn something relationship-related from Lando

landonorris neither did i 😂

redbullracing keep pushing! 💙 liked by maxverstappen1

yn.horner i'm telling Dad you refused to wear the RB shirt

maxverstappen1 please don't, i genuinely forgot it this morning

yn.horner LIAR

redbullracing how about we have a chat before quali, Max?

maxverstappen1 I can’t believe you ratted me out

user6 if people still don't think that Y/N and Max are dating, i'm sorry for you guys

user7 why do you think that? they've been friends for years

user6 they've never interacted on social media before, and suddenly started leaving comments on each other's posts a couple of weeks ago?

user8 that doesn't mean anything, to be honest. we should really stop reading so much into their personal lives...

charles_leclerc i see you've finally grown the courage to do it, Max

maxverstappen1 courage is a strong word. i have enough courage

charles_leclerc sure you do

user9 they're dating, i'm also calling it

Real Life

"Someone just said they think we're dating" you said, showing Max a comment you had seen under his new post.

Max read the comment and chuckled, shaking his head.

"We can't hide anything from them, can we?" he said, leaning back down to rest his head in your lap.

"No, but we can have a little fun with it before we announce it officially, don't you think?" you said, a smirk tugging at your lips.

If there was something that you loved and was really known for, it was trolling the media and the fans.

Even though it would drive your father crazy and give your PR team much more work than what they would hope for, but the fans were digging it.

Despite knowing you were messing with them, they loved the cat and mouse chase you always had going on with them.

"Again? You know Christian told us to tone it down a notch, especially you" Max said, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

You sighed, jutting out your bottom lip in an adorable pout that you knew Max could never resist.

"But you know it's fun. Don't deprave me of my only source of entertainment, Max" you whined, gazing up at him with your best puppy dog eyes you could muster up.

Max sighed, shaking his head as he looked away from you and stared at the wall in front of him.

He knew he would give in sooner or later, which he blamed himself for always falling for your little trick.

"Alright, fine. But you're gonna deal with Horner on your own when he comes knocking on our door" he said, pointing with his finger at you.

You squealed and nodded before launching yourself at him, attacking his face with little kisses as you giggled.

"Promise"

Instagram

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yn.horner doing very sinful things in Sin City 🤑

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user1 SOS ALERT: MOTHER HAS LANDED IN VEGAS

user2 oh no, here we go🥹

redbullracing remember: please keep it PG! 😁

yn.horner as i've already told you, i'm not a child

redbullracing your PR team would disagree

redbullracing Y/N, please remember what we talked about - PR team

yn.horner THE BETRAYAL

user3 i love how the red bull team can't keep up with her😂😂

yn.horner they just don't know how to have fun :(

maxverstappen1 we all know your idea of 'fun' is hardly normal

yn.horner i don't remember you complaining until now

gigihadid can't wait to see you, bestie!!🎀

yn.horner can't wait!! i've missed you🤍🫶🏻

user4 just casually being besties with the biggest model in the world. oh, to be her, man

landonorris oh boy

yn.horner shut up

user5 your honor, she's mothering so hard right now🥹

user6 do we agree yet that the boyfriend she is soft-launching is Max?

user7 yep

user8 at this point, looks like it

user9 just waiting for confirmation at this point

lilymhe ditch him and come hang with me bby

yn.horner omw!!!

alex_albon well, that was easy...

liked by yn.horner, redbullracing and 1,291,483 others

maxverstappen1 Thank you, Vegas. It was a very special one. Grateful for everything, grateful for winning my fourth championship with this team. Let's keep pushing to the end of the season!🦁

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yn.horner you showed them, champ 🦁

maxverstappen1 <3

redbullracing proud of you, Max! here's to many more! 🦁🦁 liked by yn.horner and maxverstappen1

landonorris well done, max. i'll get you next year

yn.horner keep dreaming, orange boy

landonorris hey...don't be mean...

maxverstappen1 what she said

landonorris ...

charles_leclerc congrats! now, can you let some of us have a go...?

maxverstappen1 no

charles_leclerc oh, come on...

yn.horner go away, french boy

charles_leclerc hey, i'm monegasque!!!!

user1 another testament to his greatness

user2 4-time world champ!!! congrats max!!

user3 i still wanna know who his girlfriend is

user4 it's obviously Y/N, they just like playing with us

user5 maybe they'll confirm it now that he's won his 4th championship

user6 hopefully, imagine Max and Y/N Horner actually dating

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 5,194,816 others

yn.horner dear max. i don't think my words on this post do you justice, but i'm going to do my best to encapsulate the feelings that i have for you right now. it has been a privilege for me to be by your side for the past couple of years, cheering you on from the sidelines and celebrating the highs with you behind the scenes. we have come a long way and we have had a hard road, but i am so proud of what we have achieved together and the people that we have become. i am beyond grateful to be able to share life with you, both in and out of the paddock. i love you, max verstappen, and i am so proud of you, my love tagged: maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1 thank you for being you. i love you<3

yn.horner i love you too <3

landonorris thank God I don't have to keep it a secret anymore

yn.horner you almost exposed us more times than i can count -_-

landonorris but i didn't

maxverstappen1 you got lucky

redbullracing our favorite couple!!

charles_leclerc i am so happy for you guys!

maxverstappen1 thanks mate!

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iamred-iamyellow · 7 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Strawberry Shortcake

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!baker!reader

♥ synopsis: your mother owned a bakery in australia and oscar, your childhood best friend was your favorite regular until he had to move away for his racing career. you've since become head chef and people are beginning to wonder where or who oscar got his impeccable baking skills from.

♥ smau + written - fc: women on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and suggestive jokes !!!

♥ a/n: literal tooth rotting fluff

-Australia, 2024-

liked by user26, user7, user14, and 18,302 more

y/n.pastries getting ready for spring with some new cupcakes <3

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user14 looks yummy 😋

yoursister do I get a family discount?

yourusername no 🥰

user7 face card is insane

user21 looks good! i’ll stop by and pick up some things soon 😊

user25 you’re gorgeous

user23 your cupcakes never miss

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Webs Most Searched Questions-

"Is Lando Norris..." he peeled off the thin white strip. "Related to Chuck Norris?"

"Yes," Lando jokingly admitted, gazing straight into the camera as Oscar tossed the card aside.

The team walked up to the two men and handed Lando another card of questions to ask his teammate.

"Does Oscar Piastri... really like pastries? I dunno, do you Oscar?"

"I do like pastries," Oscar nodded. "I like making them more, though."

"You know how to bake?" Lando questioned.

"An old friend taught me." he admitted.

"You’ll have to bring some treats in for the team one day, then."

"Maybe one day I will. Cupcakes are my specialty."

"Oh are they?" Lando raised a brow. "I'm gonna need some proof of that."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by landonorris, mclarenracingf1, logansargeant, and 1,482,053 more

oscarpiastri made some cupcakes for the team like i promised

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user2 oh he cooked 😮‍💨

user1 the piping >>>

user3 i’m not surprised that he’s good at piping

user7 he can pipe me any day

user10 OSCAR CAN THROW DOWN

user6 no bc why do those look so good

landonorris i expect you to bring these every day now

user4 now whom exactly did he learn this from

user8 flavor?

oscarpiastri vanilla cupcake with buttercream, some with a lemon custard filling and some without for varied pallets

user9 get this man on a baking show asap

user11 and then Oscar opened a cupcake shop and him and Charles did a Collab birthday cake ice cream

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Your Bakery, March 12-

The golden bell on your bakery’s door chimed late in the afternoon as you swept, getting ready for closing.

Your back was facing the entrance as you spoke up, “Perfect timing. I was just about to lock the door. What can I get for ya?”

“A strawberry shortcake.”

You spun around, recognizing the man’s voice instantly.

It was Oscar.

You hadn’t seen him in about a decade, but you still occasionally took time to follow his racing. You were hoping that one day he’d find his way back to you.

“Hi,” you greeted him with a warm smile.

“Hi.”

“It’s been a while.”

“It has,” he responded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You reached down to grab the small cake from the cold display case, “You know, your mum reached out to me.”

“She did? What’d she say?”

“Just how she wants us to reconnect and all. She visits me pretty often.”

Oscar hummed, as you set the cake on the counter.

“…To-go?” you asked.

He shook his head no, “Would you like to sit down with me?”

You nodded, plating the treat and walking out from behind the check out. You locked the door and he grabbed two small pink forks, handing one to you as you took a seat across from him.

“My mum, she would uhm…” he stabbed the utensil into the cake. “At every race she got to see in person she’d bring me a pastry from here. She’d make sure to tell me it was made by you and how your business was doing and all. I always performed better when she brought me them, too. It was always nice to know a piece of you was with me everywhere I went.“

You practically melted at the confession.

“That’s really sweet,” you dragged the tongs of your fork through some of the icing.

“I see that you’ve made a name for yourself in the Formula 1 baking community.” you both laughed.

“I had a great teacher.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, both taking bites from the cake.

“I’m sorry i didn’t visit sooner,” Oscar apologized.

“I’m just glad you’re here now.”

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 23,847 more

y/n.pastries race weekend

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oscarpiastri ferrari cookies really?

y/n.pastries i’m making mclaren ones too relax

charles_leclerc @/oscarpiastri is that any way to treat your father’s team?

user4 spectacular give me 14 more of em right now

user6 take my money 💳

landonorris so THIS is who taught @/oscarpiastri how to cook 🔥

y/n.pastries perhaps

user3 guys she’s so pretty

user1 @/nicolepiastri what’s the lore here

user8 obsesseddd

user10 hear me out she should sell these at the melbourne circuit

user7 this !!!

liked by oscarpiastri, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 100,583 more

nicolepiastri it was about time you two reconnected

tagged; @/oscarpiastri @/y/n.pastries

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oscarpiastri mummm

y/n.pastries 😅

landonorris what's up with that second picture

oscarpiastri no comment

user7 the amount of times i've seen f1 drivers dressed as nintendo characters is uncanny

user4 paul aaron and dino core

user1 AWWWW

user8 this is so cute

logansargeant @/oscarpiastri how come i’ve never heard of this? don't tell me you fumbled this bad

oscarpiastri 😐

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Australian Grand Prix-

At your bakery Oscar insisted that you attend this year’s Australian Grand Prix. You finally got the privilege of meeting so many amazing people such as Leo the famous paddock puppy and none other than Oscar’s best friend, Logan.

You stood in the Mclaren garage with Oscar’s parents as the team prepped for the race. You brought some cookies for Lando to which he complained that he wouldn’t be able to eat them until after the podium ceremony.

The two made their way back to you a few hours later, Lando in p3 and Oscar in p4. Lando snatched the tin of cookies from your hands.

“You know you’re supposed to share that?” you said as he took a seat, devouring the treats, but he just waved you off.

You gave Oscar a hug and he pulled you off to the side.

“So I was thinking… maybe I could take you on a proper date tomorrow?

You smiled, “That sounds great.”

liked by landonorris, logansargeant, georgerussell63, and 1,394,623 more

oscarpiastri morning

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user1 you don’t have to soft launch we all know you’re with y/n

user2 there’s only one person who can make those croissants and it’s y/n

user5 the third picture 😨

user3 she’s so lucky 😭

user4 @/yourusername how does it feel to live MY dream?

georgerussell63 @/alex_albon who takes all the shirtless pictures now

alexalbon still you mate

-F1 Winter Break-

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, f1, and 1,492,053 more

y/n.pastries I am very pleased to announce three new limited additions to the bakery’s menu! Carlos Sainz’ pancakes, Yuki Tsunoda’s Fruit Sando, and the LEC Vanillove ice cream sandwich.

The fans have been dying to try my boyfriend Oscar’s (basic) vanilla buttercream cupcakes, so I’ll be keeping them as a year round pastry.

It has been an honor to work with the four of you <3

tagged; @/carlossainz55 @/yukitsunoda0511 @/charles_leclefc @/oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri im so proud of you ❤️

y/n.pastries i love you osc

oscarpiastri i love you too

oscarpiastri also my signature cupcake is not “basic”

y/n.pastries whatever you say 😉

user1 guys yuki is slowly starting to accomplish his restaurant dreams

pierregasly no creds?

y/n.pastries for?

pierregasly helping yuki

y/n.pastries yea… no

pierregasly helping charles?

y/n.pastries 😐

user2 yukierre and piarles are so back

user7 the childhood friends to lovers is melting my heart 😩

user8 theyre so adorable it makes me physically ill

user3 i’m pretty sure nicole is jumping up and down right now

oscarpiastri oh don’t worry she is

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madamechrissy · 3 days ago

Text

Mobster Toji headcanons

Pairings- Mafia Toji x shot girl reader

mdni- explicit- oral (f recieving) drug use, dirty talk, choking, fingering, angsty and smutty- part of my Mafia AU- Toji is from Pour it Up (Mob Kuna) and Losing Control Now (Mob Toru) gonna be a fic soonnn, here is some of the vibes/points of ittt

comment to get tagged <3

Mobster Toji who runs the most elite club with Sukuna, and runs the Gojo mafia, has it all in spades, and he knows it's the good life, two strippers on his lap, kissing and giggling as he inhales his blunt. Deep in his lungs, smoking it and then turning to kiss each girl. How could he really complain about a life like this?

Mobster Toji had it rough before, he had a gambling addiction, he got into some debt, he lost his love... it wasn't an easy life, but he got here, and now, he runs this city with the men there, going against the Zenin mob just really made Toji's fucking day. He's got either side of his neck getting kissed on by pretty girls as they pass the blunt around, the club music reverberating off the walls, making everything so heady.

Mobster Toji pauses then, as he sees you, you're a nervous little wreck, nibbling on your lips as you talk to the girls there, you're in some slinky little dress that shows off all of those thighs, and hugs your body just so, glinting silver. He can't take his eyes off you, when they hand you the shot tray, explaining this and that to you, while you clearly look out of place. He leans forward to get a better look, earning the pouts of the girls on his lap. 'sorry, give me a minute hmm?' they giggle when he pinches their asses, running off while he gets a look at you.

Mobster Toji watches you bend forward, smile on your pretty face while you serve up shots, getting tips slipped in your pretty lace garter, running back to the bar for more before the song was up. Sukuna comes out then, looking at Toji who's so clearly enamored, and chuckles at him. 'Like the new shot girl?' Toji damn near blushes, Toji Fushiguro, he's probably blushed once in his life, but he does, only earning Sukuna's throaty laughter, and Toji's scowl. 'I actually was thinking of having her dance, our main girl is late'

Mobster Toji can't take the thought of your pretty body naked, he should make some perverted comment, but he just stands there, as Sukuna pats his shoulder, walking over to you. He watches you giggle a bit, shifting your hips, but he doesn't know your heart is racing, as the tall, handsome owner of this club asks you to dance. 'Oh, Mr. Sukuna... I don't know...' you murmur, observing the empty pole, and then he catches your eye, the other owner you've heard about, Toji Fushiguro. 'You don't have to get undressed, just give em a show, my girl doesn't get naked anymore either' you smile as you think of just how smitten he seems. You can't imagine feeling like that, not after the number your ex did on you.

Mobster Toji gets to watch as you do just that, clueless about a pole, he walks up to the stage then. 'Never seen Toji so quiet, he good?' Satoru asks, waltzing in now, wearing shades in the dark club for truly no reason Toji thinks, other than to be a little shit. 'I'm fine' Toji huffs, but then your eyes catch his, while a man is slipping a tip to you under the strap of your dress, and he pauses once more. 'He's got the hots for the shot girl' Sukuna says with a smirk. 'oh, that's it, shit go on up there, tip her' Toji scowls now 'tip her!?' the two men shrug, giving Toji a shove, and then he's there

Mobster Toji enamors you, with his huge shoulders, this broad handsome face, but he's different than anyone you've seen, he's intense, his forest green eyes glinting, plush lips in a terse line, like he's angry. You flush a bit under the obvious stare, coming over to him then, on your hands and knees, making Toji think of insane things, like your mouth wrapping around his cock, him choking your delicate throat, stretching it out with his thickness. 'can I tell you a secret?' you asks him then, when he sits down, spreading his thighs wide, elbows on the stage. 'go ahead, doll' you giggle a bit then, leaning forward, hand brushing up his suit jacket. 'I have no clue what I'm doing'

Mobster Toji can't stop the grin on his face, when he starts to take out stacks of bills that are wrapped with a rubber band, enjoying the little flush you get as you let your straps drop, baring your shoulders. 'Fuck...' he mutters under his breath, planting the smallest kiss on your collarbone, the action shooting desire hot straight through you, your eyes meet then, when his phone rings, and he sighs. 'my kid... sorry doll, I'll see you later?' you nod curiously, smiling up at him, you've heard of him - big, domineering, crime lord Toji- but he actually seems rather sweet, tipping you far too much, brushing a thumb over your lower lip before he leaves.

Mobster Toji doesn't see Megumi as often as he should, he wants him far away from the Zenin, and he needs him hidden from this dark world, the Zenin want Toji back and they want his kid, the heir to the family, but Toji won't let it happen. You're on his mind even as he drives home, Megumi's calmly blinking up at him as he pats his head, and the nanny apologizes 'so sorry, Mr. Fushiguro, but I do need to head home for an emergency' he shakes his head then. 'No worries, go on... hey kid'

Mobster Toji tries to balance it all, being a single dad, running this club, running the Gojo mob, drowning his sorrows in the finest whiskey, weed, cocaine and of course women. But even the next day when he sees you, his heart falters again, when you shoot him this little smile. He figures it's gotta be how beautiful you are, right? He's been around a while, but you're something else- until you run right into him, eyes wide as you slam into his chest, and he pauses, his hands on your waist. 'What's wrong, doll?' you sigh, looking around then. 'my ex is here, and he... well he was a dick, I was trying to hide' Toji hums then, pulling you even closer. 'where is he?'

Mobster Toji smirks, his scar stretching at the corner of his lip when he spots your ex. 'He's staring at us, wanna give him a show?' you giggle breathless then, nodding, your ex had left you after fucking your 'best friend' and you can't help but feel the pettiness rise. 'How do we do that, Mr. Fushiguro?' he grips your ass then, making you gasp, thigh between yours, pressing you on it, bending so low, you inhale his cologne, taste the liquor on his breath - 'like this' he whispers, before his lips are on yours. Your ex watches with fury, everyone else with curiosity, but it's just the two of you then, as everything starts fading aside from his lips on yours, his big hands on your body.

Mobster Toji can't get enough of your kisses, of your little teases, the next few days he keeps stealing them, like some dumb high school boy, he turns down this woman and that woman, because all he can think about is you. You don't go further, though you're aching for him, this cute little sweet game between the two of you, but you soon find yourself sitting on his lap, right in the VIP room. This was a 'special request' from Mr. Fushiguro himself. Powder is sprinkled against your neck, as he laps up residue from your collarbone, moaning softly in your ear, making your mind run wild in a room full of powerful mobsters and beautiful women, but all you can think of is him, how he's not like anyone you've known.

Mobster Toji slips rough fingers under your skirt, pressing your already damp fabric against your engorged clit as he holds an entire conversation, with Gojo, Sukuna, Choso and Suguru and plenty of women all in that room, effortless, like he's not finger your slick pussy, slipping under your panties and watching you bite that lower lip. He leans up, whispering in your ear 'keep quiet, hmm? slutty pussy is loud isn't she?' you can't formulate a thought as he fingers your slick walls, his cock aching to break your sweet pussy as he feels it pulsing around him, barely holding back his moans.

Mobster Toji has your back against the door of his office that night, in his knees in front of you, before you can think his tongue is lapping a stripe up your slit hungrily, and your hands are in his inky black locks, crying out softly while he drinks your sweet pussy up. 'Mr. Fushi-' he laughs against your cunt, making your thighs tremble 'nah, doll, it's just Toji, when your pussy is on my face, fuck it's so yummy too' he drags your ass to his face, devouring your cunt like a starved man then, your head slams the door, while he laps up all your juices, taste buds rolling on your walls, pushing you over the edge until you're blinded, drooling from your mouth and your cunt he's working.

Mobster Toji damn near cums when you squirt for him, he's drinking up as much as he can, staring at your slick cunt in wonder, so pretty as you squeak nervously, he chuckles at just how cute you are. 'fuck that's sexy, you squirt?' you're blushing, stammering then, as a mobster, a criminal, Toji himself is coated in your glistening cum. 'I've never done it... n-never came except on my own' Toji blinks in confusion, laughing then, but you'r'e serious he realizes, quickly too, and he sighs, pressing a kiss on the hood of your clit, an arm around your hips. 'That ex so shitty?' you nod then, weakly, unable to function or think as he stands, lifting you up on his desk. 'time to change all of that, gonna have you squirting all over this fucking desk huh?'

Mobster Toji is irritated as he's interrupted, of course it's a dire issue, when wasn't it? He leaves you with a nasty, filthy open mouthed kiss, wishing he didn't have all these duties as it was, and now it's just growing a longer list. In the limo with Sukuna he can taste you on his tongue, and when he finally sees you next, so much changed, you're excited but you say his dark expression, his face so tense. How could he bring a sweet girl into his world?

Mobster Toji ignores you, like it never fucking happened, and you see him, girls on his lap in that damn room, so you make sure to 'accidentally' spill shots all down his Armani slacks, earning him standing and scowling at you. when he finally corners you later, a hand on your throat, he's squeezing your windpipe, leaning low. 'what's with that show, huh brat?' you glare up at him, even as his hand squeezes. 'what's with ignoring me after... that!?' Toji's jaw clenches. 'I don't want ya in this fuckin' life, doll, that's what.' Your hand slips down his shirt, his hard muscled body, while he still squeezes, only serving to make you wetter. 'you don't even know me Toji' he scoffs. 'and you don't wanna know me'

Mobster Toji releases your throat, watching you walk away, what do you know about his life - nothing. He can't drag you down, you're different, even as he turns girls down, as he strokes his cock thinking of you, and you give him that pretty little scowl. He knows you're mad, he sees you flirting, he sees you watching him, he hopes you hate him, it's easier that way, a mobster with a fucking kid and a million issues. But suddenly you are just gone for a week, then another, Toji begins to ask, and Sukuna frowns, shaking his head. 'she just never came back, even to get her check, I'm not sure... I figured you two had problems and-"

Mobster Toji feels his stomach turn, panicking now, looking your name up on socials, seeing no updates since the last day he saw you, and his eyes dart to Sukuna's. 'what's wrong, mad she left your dumbass?' Toji shakes his head, gulping now. 'something is wrong... no I need to fucking find her. Now.' You're not at the apartment that was on your employment, you're nowhere, even your landlord says they haven't seen you, when Toji breaks into your abandoned apartment, even your phone is right there, he sees it's long dead, but next to it is a note, that simply reads 'find me'.

Mobster Toji will find you, if it's the last thing he fucking does.

THIS took an ANGSTY turn my goodness- it will be a fic if you wanna get tagged drop a comment <3

perm tagss- @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @naomi-main @fairygardenprincesss @estrellaexists @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff

more tags- @devastyle @chososblackprincess @missoceann @maddyhehehehhe @getoisinnocent @makingtimemine @aldebrana

#toji x reader #toji smut #mob toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x f!reader #toji x female reader #jjk toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #divider by cafekitsune #toji x y/n #toji drabble #Mafia au

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strawberrymatchawhore · 11 months ago

Text

away

toxic bf! rafe cameron x reader

"running away is easy, its the leaving thats hard."

summary- the camerons are in charge of the annual new years party this year, you along other kooks as well as the camerons distant family are invited to the estate to celebrate. you unknowingly strike up a conversation with one of rafes cousins whom he has always been in competition with since childhood, eventually having to deal with the consequences of your jealous boyfriend

warning/s- abusive relationship, slapping, degrading, choking, toxic ass relationship, mean rafe, reader is a crybaby, nutting inside as punishment, barely any aftercare, NON/DUBCON (reader lets him fuck to make him less pissed off) IF ANY OF THIS MAKES U UNCOMFY PLS DONT READ <3, etc.. im backkk pls enjoy and comment as well as repost apologies for being gone for so long lolsies 🙁

3 years ago you never would have pictured yourself where you are today, living in one of the finest estates of the island and dating one of the most popular and sought after members of this community. nor have you ever pictured yourself being in a a relationship where everyday was like stepping on eggshells and yet you never felt the urge to leave. you loved him too much to do so.

putting on silver dangly earrings as the final touch to your new years look, you turn to your boyfriend for approval. only to be met with a disgusted look on his face.

"why are you dressed like that"

"i thought you liked it? you bought it for me last week." you argued, folding your arms.

"yeah but i didn't think you'd wear it to a family event, i mean come on baby you look like a hooker." he pointed at the figure forming dress, your eyebrows furrowed. the dress was a maxi dress and the only thing revealing was the slight cleavage.

"never mind i'll just change" you exhale and quickly turn away to avoid starting an argument, but he grabs your arm and ushers for you to stay.

"you know what, lets go. we're already late." he leaves the room and you silently follow behind him.

.....

you and rafe walk through the door with your arm around his bicep, immediately you felt out of place. no one you knew were here and it was just random rich people. you felt your breathing begin to hitch and it continues to grow as you continue your walk into the kitchen to get drinks.

"i'll be back, stay right here." rafe orders and grabs a beer, leaving you to your thoughts.

"hey" a voice interrupted. you look up and see a tall brunette, someone you've never seen in this small island.

"uhm.. hi" you awkwardly respond back, giving a small smile which he returns.

"sorry did i interrupt? i saw you were by yourself so i thought maybe i should come and chat with you for a bit.. not that im calling you lonely. i mea- shit. im adrian by the way." he rambles and you cant help but laugh and slyly look around for your boyfriend. you know know how he gets when you talk to guys, and this guy seemed awfully familiar.

"no no, youre good. please. i was hoping someone would talk to me, everyones so intimidating here." you took another sip of your drink and lean against the marbled counter. who was this guy?

"i know right?! i thought my cousin was going to show up and greet me to everybody but i guess he's too good for that." he joked

"wow he seems like a handfu-" barely getting the response out, you instantly feel someone luring over you and harshly put their hand on your shoulder.

"what are you doing" you hear your boyfriends harsh voice whisper in your ear.

"oh hey man whats up" adrian says, they dap each other up but you could feel the tention behind it.

"i see youve met my girlfriend." rafes hand grabs your waist, massaging it. his fingers dig into your waist.

"i did, shes been a great chat." adrian responded, your jaw clenches and you bite your tongue. you feel your anxiety come back as you know youre about to dig your own grave.

"yeah she is huh. its getting kinda late though. i think we're gonna head out." before even hearing what adrian was going to say, rafe grabs your hand and starts to drag you outside.

"rafe what are you doing??? we just got here." you struggle to catch up with his long angry strides.

"do you think i give a fuck." you release yourself from his grip but he ends up pushing you up against his truck.

"i don-" his hand squeezes your throat, blocking your airways. it was 11 pm and everybody was inside, no one was seeing this.

"tell me. does it look like it?" he seethes, pushing you harder into the truck. you felt your tears start to form when his yelling is followed by his intense eye contact with you.

"no right? so get the fuck in the car." he opens the passenger seat and shoved you inside, slamming the door. rafe then gets into his seat and speeds off. you could tell by the silence and the way he was gripping the steering wheel that you were fucked.

......

rafe pulls up to the driveway and practically drags you inside, you were too scared to speak up. frightened at how much worst that would make his next moves be. pushing you into the guest bedroom he starts to speak up.

"why are you such a slut, i cant even leave you alone for 5 minutes without you trying to hop on my cousins dick." he scolds you, your body sits at the end of the bed in shame. hunching to make yourself smaller, mentally preparing yourself when you see him taking off his clothes.

"take this shit off." he grabs you and tugs on your dress. but you didnt hear him, you were too busy disassociating yourself away from him and this suffocating ass room.

"what'd i fucking say?" rafe slaps you and instead of giving you the time to take off the dress, he rips it and pins you by the wrists to the bed. he glares down at you before leaning down your neck and inhaling your scent and leaving dark bruises behind.

"i was thinking about fucking you real nice and slow tonight. but after you decided to act like a whore, i'm gonna treat you like one. how's that sound baby." he mocks you and caresses you clothed pussy before pulling them off your legs.

"rafe.." you whine when he uses his buff arms to spread your legs as much as they could go. you start to hyperventilate from his threat, and cover your face so you don't have to watch him violate you. his thumb rubs at your clit, and the other hand starts to stroke his cock. the tip showing how angry he truly was.

without a warning your boyfriend slams into your pussy, barley wet and prepped. you weren't adjusted to the size of him.

"ow fuck!" you squealed and immediately tried to seek comfort by grabbing onto rafe's bicep, this only seemed to piss him off more and he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

"you're not allowed to touch me. just lay there and be a good fuck toy for me to use." he gives your ass a hard before forcing his way back into you, the burn and lack of proper lubrication makes you shoot up again but he didn't let you move an inch. this sort of roughness was familiar, yet every time it never fails to terrify you.

"stay the fuck down." his large hand pushes down on the middle of your back, naturally putting you into a face down ass up position. just the way he liked it. your body shakes and trembles in fear when your boyfriends thrusts get harder.

"rafe please it hurts so bad i cant take it" you sobs getting louder, rafe lowers himself closer to you and grabs your throat cutting off your breathing.

"your pussys sucking me right in angel, i think you can." he sneered, your crying and begging seemed to anticipate him even further as he loses all his restraint. you knew you couldn't stop him. its just the way your relationship worked.

he would get mad and then take his anger out on you, and youd let him. why? because you know what he's capable of, the holes displayed throughout your guys bedroom were everyday reminders to not push him too far. but in a way, it made you feel safe and wanted. rafe would do anything to protect you and keep you away from the dangers of the outside world.

"you're starting to get wet shitttt" rafe moaned and releases your throat, both his hands grab onto your hips for leverage as he speeds up his pace hitting the good spots deep inside you. not caring about how there was going to be fingermark bruises later. you hiccup as you try to control the sounds of your crying, using a pillow as comfort while he ruins you from behind.

inevitably your stomach starts to tighten and you feel yourself about to cum, your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your hair and tugs on it. resulting in a moan from you, the other hand moves down to your clit and rubs circles.

"you gonna cum baby? cum on my dick." he orders, he was fucking you so hard and greedily that the sounds of his thrusts and skin colliding were echoing in the room. your body caved into the sensations and you felt yourself fall apart on him.

"thats it squirt all over it, make a fucking mess for me. god you're such a little slut." he coos. the overstimulation of his cock hitting your cervix over and over again made you fucked out to the point of of passing out.

"so fucking tight" his vulgar words fill your ears, he gives your pussy rough slaps and you push against him. you yelped in surprise, eyes widening when you notice that rafes thrusts started to get sloppier.

"no.. no rafe! rafe you cant, we cant!" you protested in between moans, he only laughed in response. trying to push yourself away from him but he easily overpowered you. grabbing both of your arms and pinning them behind your back.

"dont tell me what to do, you did this to yourself." he breathes heavily as he filled you to the brim with him cum, he stayed there for a moment fucking it in as deep as he could before pulling out. enjoying the view of your pretty pussy sucking him right in. your eyes squinted in disgust when you felt his seed slide down your thighs.

rafe got up to clean himself but left you lying on the bed, you definitely werent walk right now and you were so overwhelmed with everything that happened. your conscious couldnt take anymore and your eyes starting tearing up.

"why are you crying." he sat on the edge of the bed and examined your state cluelessly. he scooted closer to you and opened the drawer next to the bed and grabbed a towel, cleaning you with it. you both sat in silence until rafe decided to pick you up and make his way to your actual bedroom.

"youre so mean to me.. you know that." you sniffle into his hard chest and draw circles on it with your finger. he doesn't respond but you know he heard it because he gave you a light squeeze before laying you down on the large bed. he takes his place next to you and turns away from you.

you sigh and turn to face his back, engulfing him in a hug. rafe initially tenses up but then relaxed in your arms. slowly you begin to knock out but before you do, you were sure you heard a brief

"im sorry" from rafe.

2K notes · View notes

sceletaflores · 4 months ago

Text

he’s a good time, cowboy casanova!

pair: cowboy!logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 9.4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, alternate universe/no powers, swearing, drinking, smoking, probably some inaccuracies about ranch life idk i haven't been around a horse in like two years, logan working a lasso yes god, age gap (early 40s/mid 20s), THE COWBOY HAT RULE RAAAHHH, nasty dirty talk, i was so horny for kissing when i was writing this jesus, p in v, unprotected sex (do as sex ed tells you, not as i write), semi-public sex, riding, creampie, some emotional constipation cause it’s me, porn with a little too much plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: another purely self indulgent work...i just fucking love cowboys what can i say. it's practically ingrained in me by this point. logan would never dance but like who cares he's my barbie i can make him do whatever i want! kisses <3

dividers by angel @saradika-graphics!

a cowboy and the governor’s daughter walk into a barn...

The ranch is alive like you've never seen before, almost every acre lit up in celebration of your father's recent inauguration.

Twinkling lights strung around the barn's ceiling cast a warm orange glow all around you, flickering like fireflies on a summer night.

People are everywhere—laughing, mingling, drinking. Their faces both familiar and new, dressed in everything from head-to-toe denim to their Sunday best.

The lively music from the band floats through the space, couples on the makeshift dance floor twirling to the familiar twang of an acoustic guitar.

You take it all in from your spot against the wall, drink in hand as your eyes scan the room.

You did your share of mingling earlier in the evening, greeting the higher-up’s in your city with hugs and thanks.

You posed for pictures that’ll be splashed across the front pages of Monday’s paper, listened to your father’s speech as you stood by his side with a smile.

This is the first moment you've gotten to yourself since the ball started, one you've spent in content silence while enjoying the perks of an open bar.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing all by your lonesome?"

The honeyed rasp of a voice filtering in from your left paired with the jingling sound of spurs against the soft ground grabs your attention.

At first, you turn ready to greet a stray boutique or feedstore owner you may have missed earlier. You’re pleasantly surprised to see Marie sauntering towards you instead, a bright grin on her face that makes you smile right back.

Marie was one of the first people you met after moving to Texas at the beginning of your father's campaign, and you've only gotten closer since she started as a ranch hand down at Blackbird.

Her unruly red curls spill out from under her Stetson, the bouncy strands swinging in time with the white fringe of her show-shirt as she opens her arms.

"Thought you might have gotten lost in all the fancy folk," she teases, nearly crushing you with the strength of her hug.

You laugh as you hug her back, the warmth of her embrace a welcome interruption to your moment of peace and quiet. Her scent wraps around you, the familiar dust and lavender that's seeped into her clothes.

"Definitely not lost," you say, stepping back to meet her gaze. "Just taking it all in."

Marie smirks, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside you, crossing her arms as she watches the crowd.

"Sure is a good night for it," she says, glancing over at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Lookin' for anyone in particular? A nice night cap?"

You snort, taking another sip of your drink. Marie has always been more invested in your love life than you, hand picking guys from around town she deems worthy enough of your attention.

You know she means well, and it's almost as endearing as it is pesky, so you let her play matchmaker from time to time.

“I don’t need a night cap,” you laugh, shaking your head sluggishly. "I’m perfectly fine spending tonight alone."

Before Marie can respond, a stir from outside filters in. Loud cheers and hollers, hooves beating against dirt, the distinct whistle of a lasso slicing through the air.

Marie practically squeals, excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet as she peers through the barn doors. “It’s starting!”

You don’t have time to ask what ‘it’ is before she’s snatching up your wrist and turning to haul you outside.

"Marie! Where the hell are we going?" You practically trip over your own feet trying to keep up with her, your drink splashing up against the rim of your glass precariously.

Marie laughs as she pulls you out into the cool evening air, her boots crunching on the gravel as she drags you toward the commotion. “You’ll see!”

You weave through the crowd forming around the training ring, Marie’s grip still tight around your wrist as she pushes toward the front until you’re right up against the railing.

You peer over it, eyes adjusting to the floodlights surrounding the ring, illuminating the clouds of dust kicked up by the different ranch hands perched on horses.

A few riders take turns showing off their skills, each of them in the same show-shirt as Marie, expertly swinging lassos and wrangling cattle with practiced ease.

The energy is contagious, and you find yourself smiling, soaking in the excitement pulsing through the crowd.

Marie leans closer, her voice low and laced with something knowing. “Just wait for it, honey. It’s about to get good.”

You give her a puzzled look, but she’s already grinning ear to ear, her attention fully focused on a new rider that chargers into the ring.

You follow her gaze, and your breath catches in your throat.

He rides in like he owns the place, his coal black horse cutting through the fog of dirt like a shadow, sleek and powerful beneath him.

A black Stetson sits low over his face, casting shadows that only add to the rugged allure of his jawline, a jawline that could cut glass.

As he leans forward to grab the rope tossed at him by one of the other riders, his muscles flex, a kind of strength that isn’t there for show, but for real work.

His show-shirt is stretched over the width of his chest, over broad shoulders that look like they were carved from stone, made for lifting hay bales and hundred pound feed bags.

The sleeves rolled up to expose forearms dusted with dark hair and more than a few scars. His gloved hands rest on the reins with an ease that tells you he’s more than familiar on a saddle.

He’s not the flashiest rider, but there’s something commanding in his presence as he races his horse towards the steer, lasso circling high above his head.

He doesn’t even look like he’s trying to put on a show—he is the show.

Marie’s grip on your wrist tightens, and she leans in again, her voice loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

“That’s Logan,” she says, practically glowing with pride. ”He’s the foreman down at Blackbird, might just be the best damn cowboy in the whole state.”

You blink, hardly able to tear your gaze away from Logan, who’s riding like he’s part of the horse, one seamless, commanding figure cutting through the chaos in the ring.

His focus is sharp, and as his lasso snaps through the air, catching the steers back leg in a clean loop, the crowd erupts in applause.

A satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, a glimmer of amusement flashing beneath the shadow of his hat.

Marie nudges you, her grin widening as she catches the look on your face. “Told you he was worth watching,” she teases, winking. “And he’s got a bit of a reputation for bein’ hard to impress—one of those strong, silent types, y’know?”

You roll your eyes, but your heart beats a little faster as Logan turns his horse, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before it lands on you.

Your cheeks warm under his stare, trying to subtly make out the different features of his face from this far. His head tilts just slightly, as if he’s sizing you up from across the ring.

For a second, it feels like the two of you are the only ones there. The cheers from the audience dulling into white noise all around you, everything in your peripheral blurring together—everything but him.

“He’s good…” Your voice has gone light, airy as you watch Logan turn his horse back to lead the steer into the ring's stall with all the others.

Marie's grin only widens as she leans against the post, clever eyes trained on the side of your face. "You still 'perfectly find spendin' the night alone'?"

You don't respond, too busy watching the strong muscle of Logan's back ripple under his shirt as he rides out of the ring—to your complete dismay—almost as fast as he rode in.

You're only snapped out of your trance when you can't make out his silhouette any longer. The crowd around you dissipates, filtering back into the barn while you're stuck to the fence straining your eyes for broad shoulders and a black cowboy hat.

“Show’s over, sugar.” Marie says with a snort, gently tugging you away from the post. “Come on, let’s get you another drink.”

You lost your company ten minutes ago, but you knew you didn’t stand a chance when Remy found the two of you huddled at the bar.

Sheepishly coming up to Marie with his hat in his hand, pressing it to his chest as he asked her for a dance.

You waved them off with a smile, assuring Marie you'd be fine on your own for a couple songs.

It gave you a chance to step out for some fresh air, to lean against the side of the barn and sneak a cigarette while your father was busy dancing with the town's best real estate agent money can buy.

You take a slow drag, eyes peering up at the stars so you can trace the constellations. You think that this might just be your favorite part of the move.

Nevada has never been known for its clear skies, you can count the times you’d been able to see the stars on one hand.

You still remember the first night after you settled into your new house, the stress of the move and your fathers inauguration weighed on you enough that sleep was hard to come by.

You finally crept out of bed around three, climbing over your balcony to perch yourself on the roof, carton of cigarettes and a lighter shoved in the waistband of your shorts.

The first time you looked out over the horizon was like stepping into a whole new world.

The stars had never felt so close, hung through the air like diamonds. So bright against the vast nothingness that stretched out beyond the too-big ranch house on the too-many acres the state appointed you and your father.

It was like you could almost reach out and touch them, pluck them from the sky like fruit off a tree.

You’d been used to the city lights, the constant hum of noise that swallowed up the stars, but here? It was different.

The air smelled of dust and rainwater, and the silence was louder than anything you’d ever known.

You remember the deep, quiet hum of the night, almost like it was waiting for you to catch up, to adjust to the new rhythm of the world you were suddenly a part of.

It was a moment of peace, a brief stillness from the mess crowding your head, and you found comfort in that isolation.

You take another long drag, letting the smoke curl around your fingers, the orange embers glowing bright against the darkness.

As the faint scent of tobacco mixes with the cool air, you find that same sense of peace returning, the same stillness settling over your chest.

You tilt your head back to rest on the barn, eyes fluttering shut as you let the crisp breeze lull you into its serenity.

"Those'll kill you, y'know."

A voice comes from just over your shoulder, warm and low. A smooth drawl ringing out from the shadows.

You slip your eyes open, expecting to see one of the older ranch hands or maybe even a city official looking to lecture the governor's kid.

It takes you a second, but the black Stetson and squared shoulders register quickly enough—Logan.

You nearly swallow your tongue, eyes widening as you take in the way he leans against the barn a few feet away from you. You don’t know how long he’s been standing there, watching you.

The moonlight dances across his face, highlighting the rough line of his jaw and the confident tilt of his smirk.

“I didn’t think cowboys were one’s for giving lectures.” You’re shocked at the stillness of your voice, the beat of your heart picking up the tiniest bit.

Logan’s smirk only widens as he pushes off the wall, gravel crunching under his boots as he makes his way over to you, slow and deliberate. He’s still dressed in the same outfit from before, a lasso still coiled in one hand.

He comes to a stop next to you, leaning his shoulder just inches from yours. "Not usually. But when I see a pretty girl puffin' away on somethin' that's bound to ruin her, I make an exception."

You smirk, lifting the cigarette to your lips again just to make a point, even as your pulse jumps a little under his gaze. "Guess we all have our vices.” You say, blowing out the smoke slowly, watching the way his gaze tracks its lazy drift.

Logan’s eyes trail back to yours, and you can see the color of them now that he’s closer. A mix of different greens and browns fading together, like a forest in the thick of summer.

The lightest dusting of freckles decorate the bridge of his nose, trailing along his cheeks until they disappear under his beard, a product of being out in the sun so often.

You’re struck by how pretty he is, all long lashes and red lips.

Well, pretty for a cowboy anyway.

“You plan on sharin’?”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles from your chest, brow raising skeptically. “That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Logan just shrugs, a lazy half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I reckon’ it’s rude to let a lady smoke alone.”

You huff lightly, reaching into the pocket of your dress. You flick the top of your Marlboros open, slipping a cigarette out and offering it to Logan silently.

He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours enough to send a spark through you. It travels up your arm and all around your shoulders to seep down through your entire body, resting in your stomach to swirl through the heat simmering there.

“Got a light?” He asks, words muffled around the filter.

You roll your eyes, but reach back into your pocket regardless. Logan leans closer as you flip your zippo open, taking his hat off to cover the side of his face, blocking the flame from the lazy breeze.

Your heart stutters in your chest as he nears closer. You didn’t expect he’d want you to light it for him. You will your hand to steady as you raise the flame to the tip, holding it close enough that the small light illuminates his face.

The intoxicating mix of leather and musk invades your senses. You fight the urge to lean into it entirely, to close the gap.

When the flame flickers and catches the end of his cigarette, Logan pulls back, taking a languid drag, the embers glowing between his lips.

His eyes don't leave yours as he exhales deeply, the smoke curling from his lips in slow tendrils. You can’t tell if it’s the nicotine or the way he’s looking at you that’s making your head spin.

You break eye contact, feeling the flush creeping up your neck, and lean back against the barn to cool yourself off. Logan leans beside you, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you, just the soft crackling of cigarettes and distant music filling the space between.

Logan puts his hat back on, his voice breaking through the quiet as he does. “You’re Governor Wright’s daughter, ain't you?”

You nod slowly, exhaling another long plume of smoke. It’s still weird hearing it out loud. “I am.”

Logan hums, turning his head to face you again. The silver moonlight catching the glint in his eye.

“Saw your picture in the paper.” His gaze rakes from the top of your head, all the way down to the tips of your boots. “Looked real nice.”

The air feels heavier as Logan’s eyes travel over you, lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle, before meeting your gaze again. His eyes hold a hint of amusement, the green of them darker than before. The heat swims through you faster, stronger.

“Congratulations.” He adds, almost like an afterthought. A quick pivot to take some attention away from how his eyes swept over your body so shamelessly.

You snort before you can stop yourself. If you had a dollar for every time you’ve heard that over the past few weeks. “Yeah,” you say, kicking at some rocks near your feet. “Thank you.”

You can see the way Logan’s brow raises out of the corner of your eye, his gaze burning a hole along your profile.

“Don’t sound too excited,” he comments, exhaling lazily. “That why you’re hidin’ out here?”

You shrug, leaning back against the barn and tapping your cigarette to shake off some ash. “Maybe I just like the quiet,” you say. “Or maybe I’m avoiding another round of ‘how proud are you of your daddy’ small talk.”

Logan stays quiet, and you feel the overwhelming need to explain yourself. A need to fill the silence, like he’s some kind of magnet that soothes the truth from people.

You sigh, turning your eyes to the dark sky again. “I’m happy for my dad, of course I am but…” You trail off, searching for the right words. “It’s just a lot.”

He chuckles lightly, a low rumble that feels more real than the sounds of laughter from inside the barn. “Hell, I don’t blame you,” he says, his eyes flicking up to the stars too. “Nothin’ wrong with takin' a breather now and then.”

You both stand there in comfortable silence, the night stretching out around you, as vast and open as the sky above. You let yourself study Logan out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way he seems at ease, like he’s as much a part of this land as the grass and stars.

Finally, he looks over, and you feel that sharp gaze settle on you again. “You keep starin’ like that,” he says, a teasing note creeping into his voice, “I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re more interested in somethin' other than the stars.”

Your mouth drops open slightly, heat rushing to your ears as you search for something to say.

Logan’s smirk widens as he catches the way your breath stutters, and for a moment, the silence is thick, the air between you charged.

You force a laugh, trying to play it off, but it’s weak, and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck again. "I—"

Back inside the barn, the band switches songs, saving you from your embarrassment. A softer melody floats through the air, slow and sweet as molasses. It’s muffled enough that it sounds almost hazy, like a soundtrack to the most wonderful dreams.

Logan turns to watch the shadows move in the light spilling through the open doors. Couples pairing off, taking to the dancefloor. All warm embraces and slow moving circles, swaying to the gentle beat.

He turns back to you, running his thumb over the coarse lasso in his hand. “Care for a dance?”

You raise your brow, skepticism written all over your face. “I don’t really do that.”

Logan doesn’t back down, tilting his head with an easy grin. “Seems like a waste not dancin’ in a dress like that.”

You can’t fight the smile that tugs your lips up, shaking your head with a quiet laugh as you peer down at the nice floral fabric of your sundress. The wind makes it swish along your sides, the flowy fabric swaying over the knee of your boots.

“Maybe another time, Logan.” You try to ignore how good his name feels rolling off your tongue.

He takes one last drag off his cigarette before he’s stubbing it out on the worn leather of his belt and slipping the butt in his jean pocket. It’s both the strangest and most endearing thing you’ve ever seen—a cowboy that refuses to litter.

“Well I’m gonna have to insist.” He crosses his arms over his chest, straining the fabric around his biceps. There’s a challenge in his eyes now, a dare.

“Oh, you’re insisting, are you?” You repeat doubtfully, lolling your head to the side languidly, your hair flowing with it. ”And how are you gonna do that?”

Logan doesn’t answer with words, just raises his arm to start twirling his lasso through the air with a smug grin. He circles once, twice, three times before a deft flick of his wrist sends the rope across the way to you.

It slips over your shoulders, sliding down to catch on the curve of your hips.

You raise a brow, reluctant smile still playing on your lips. “Do you carry this thing with you everywhere you go?”

Logan cocks a brow, tugging on his end of the rope so it tightens around you, forcing you a step closer.

You stumble forward with a soft laugh, eyes darting up to meet Logan's. The lasso feels snug, but not tight enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he’s in control, and the thought sends a spark straight down to your core.

“You sure you don’t dance?” He tugs you a few steps closer, his smirk only deepening as he effortlessly reels you in.

You bite your lip to stifle a smile, shaking your head. “You sure are persistent, I’ll give you that.”

Logan doesn’t wait for you to say anything else, instead taking that final step forward. His grip tightens slightly on the lasso, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between you.

You can feel the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of your dress, his chest rising and falling with each slow, deliberate breath.

“Some would say it’s my best quality,” he teases quietly, voice dropping to something lower, like gravel and velvet. “Now, you gonna fight me the whole way through, or are we gonna dance?”

You glance up at him, your chest fluttering in spite of yourself. A thousand lame excuses run through your mind, but all you can manage is a breathless laugh, the sound caught somewhere between amusement and nerves.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” you murmur, hands tentatively coming to rest on his shoulders. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Logan’s smile softens, his hand slinking around your hips to loosen the lasso, letting it slip down your legs so you can step out of it.

Big hands settle on your waist, brushing the soft fabric of your dress, sending a fresh wave of warmth through you. His touch is firm and gentle all at once, guiding you effortlessly into an easy sway.

The moment you fall into the rhythm of the music, your body moves naturally against Logan’s, and you can feel the charge between you intensify with each step.

His boots scrape against the dirt as he leads you in a slow, almost languid circle. Your feet match his without thinking, the sound of your boots in sync with the soft country tune playing from the barn.

“See? Not so bad, huh?” His voice is low, a soft whisper against the backdrop of the music.

You nod slowly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. The rough scrape of his jeans against your bare legs sends a delicious shiver skittering up your spine.

“Not so bad,” you agree, your voice quieter now, the playful edge slipping away as something deeper stirs between you.

You tilt your head up, breath catching in your chest when you find him already looking down at you. His lips quirk up slightly, but there’s a new intensity there now, something sharper than the teasing glimmer from before.

"Logan," you murmur, but your voice is barely a whisper, lost to the night air.

His free hand slides up the length of your spine, trailing along your neck until he’s cupping the side of your face. His thumb grazes your cheekbone with a gentleness you never thought men like him to be capable of.

The space between you shrinks even more as Logan dips his head, his nose brushing against yours in a featherlight touch that sends a shiver down your spine

“You gonna tell me to stop?” He murmurs, his lips so close now you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin.

Your throat works to form words, but they’re gone, stolen by the way his hands slide a fraction lower on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Your breath hitches again, and without thinking, you close the space, lips pressing against his, soft at first, unsure. Logan deepens it almost immediately, tugging you impossibly closer.

It’s tender–achingly so. Logan’s lips are surprisingly soft, he tastes like top-shelf whiskey and your Marlboro Golds. They mold to yours with a gentle pressure, warm and inviting. His hand on your face tilts your head slightly, angling you just right as his thumb continues to trace soft circles over your cheek.

The warmth of it spreads through you, settling low in your stomach, and you think you could stay like this the whole night, wrapped in the quiet safety of him.

All too soon, Logan’s pulling away. You whine pathetically, lips chasing his own. You’d be embarrassed if it wasn't for the pure need coursing through you.

“You were right,” he mutters lowly, running his thumb along the slick expanse of your bottom lip. “This is a hell of a lot better than dancin’.”

“Shut up.” You drag him back down by the fistfuls of his shirt, your own lips hungrily seeking out his again.

This kiss is different, something filthier, something messier. It’s like a dam breaking to let a rush of water break free, all the tension unraveling itself as you meet again.

The gentle tilt of Logan’s head changes, and when his teeth catch your bottom lip with just enough pressure, your knees feel dangerously close to buckling.

His hand slides down from your cheek, skimming your jawline before tangling into the hair at the nape of your neck. His tongue sweeps past your lips, and the taste of whiskey and smoke is heady, stronger, dizzying.

Logan’s mouth moves against yours with a confidence that makes your head spin, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You let out a soft, involuntary sound, and that only spurs him on, the hand in your hair tightening as he presses you back against the rough wood of the barn.

It digs into your body harshly, scratching at the bare skin of your shoulders and backs of your thighs. You hardly care.

Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, knocking his hat off so you can tug him closer as your tongues slide together lewdly. Logan groans into your mouth at the sting of his scalp, you can feel the rumble of it in your bones.

His beard scratches against your chin and cheeks so deliciously that you can’t help but imagine where else it might rub your skin red and raw. The thought alone has a shudder running through you, your hips arching off the barn unconsciously.

The subtle grind when your hips slot together is enough to have Logan’s grip tightening around your hips. His fingers flexing where they’re still tangled in your hair. You moan softly at the hard length tenting his jeans, pressing insistently against your lower stomach, big even trapped in the rough denim.

Your body reacts to the thick plane of heat almost viscerally, your pussy aching with the need to be filled.

When you finally break apart, it’s only because neither of you can breathe.

Logan pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths that match your own. His pupils are blown wide, dark and intense. You dazedly think back to the sleek coat of his horse, black as ink and shining under the rings lights.

His lips are an angry red and slightly swollen, glistening in the pale moonlight, and the sight of him—disheveled and wanting—sends another wave of heat blooming through your core to leak wet and sticky in your panties.

“Your daddy would shoot me between the eyes if he caught us like this, darlin’.”

You hide your pleased smile in the crook of his neck, trailing soft kisses from his jaw to his ear. “Then we should find somewhere a little more private, shouldn’t we?”

Logan groans, hands bunching the fabric of your dress in tight fists as your lips brush against the lobe of his ear with every word, teasing. “I reckon’ we should.”

You step back, fingers trailing down to toy with the shiny belt buckle sitting pretty on his waist. “Lead the way.”

Logan smirks, tongue swiping along his bottom lip. “Yes ma’am.”

He bends to grab his hat from where it lays at his feet, pushing his hair away from his eyes before dropping it back on his head. His hand finds the small of your back, turning to lead you away from the barn.

You try not to notice how well it fits.

Turns out, ‘somewhere a little more private’ is just another barn. This one filled with stray mountains of hay and empty horse stalls instead of the watchful eyes of partygoers.

You can’t bring yourself to care, not when Logan’s got you pressed to the closed door, his hands roaming down your body like he’s memorizing every curve, every dip.

“Christ, you’re somethin’ else,” Logan mutters, his voice thick with want as his lips ghost along the side of your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that make your knees shake.

His breath is hot against your ear when he adds, “Bet you’re soaked for me already, aren’t you, darlin’?”

The rough pads of his fingers drag along your bare thighs as he hikes your dress higher, the fabric bunching at your waist. The cool air kisses your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat between your legs as his palms knead the soft flesh.

You bite your lip to stifle the embarrassing moan that threatens to escape, but he catches the sound anyway, pressing a cocky grin to the side of your cheek.

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me now.” His hand slides between your thighs, calloused fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties.

The low groan that escapes him when he feels how wet you are is pure sin, vibrating against your neck as his fingers trace over the damp cotton. “Fuck, barely touched you and you’re already drippin’ for me.”

“Logan—” You start, but your words dissolve into a sharp gasp as he hooks a finger beneath the fabric, pulling it to the side.

The first drag of his finger through your slick folds has your head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. A high moan falls from your parted lips, embarrassing and needy as your thighs clench around his wrist.

Logan just hums, pressing a kiss to the corner of your slack mouth. “Is she hurtin’ real bad, baby?” he asks softly, his thumb pressed over your pulsing clit. “Just gotta give you some sweet kisses and she gets all worked up, huh?”

Your only response is a breathless whimper, your fingers clutching at his shoulders for stability as he teases you with slow, torturous circles around your clit.

His thick pointer finger slides through the slick seam of your pussy, catching on your dripping entrance before it’s sinking to the knuckle in one slow thrust.

You arch into him, your hips rocking instinctively to take him deeper, desperate for more. His other hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek as his gaze locks onto yours.

The intensity in his eyes makes your stomach flip, your breath hitching as he watches every little expression cross your face.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he coaxes, sliding his finger in and out at a maddeningly slow pace. “Look at you, so fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ my fingers so good, baby.”

“Please,” you gasp, the need in your voice making his smirk widen.

“Please what?” he teases, curling his finger inside you and grinning when you nearly sob at the sensation. “Gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

You whimper, thighs trembling as you manage to stutter out, “Kiss…kiss me.”

Logan groans, brows twitching up like that wasn’t what he was expecting to fall from your slick, kiss bitten lips. He doesn’t waste a second, leaning in to capture your mouth with his in a kiss that’s equal parts desperate and bruising.

His lips part against yours, tongue sliding in to meet yours, hot and eager, as he sinks a second finger inside your clenching hole.

The kiss deepens, becoming a rhythm of its own, each stroke of his tongue matching the languid thrust of his fingers.

Logan's lips move hungrily against yours, his pace never faltering even as his fingers curl inside you, searching, teasing, until—there.

The moment he brushes against that spot, your back arches off the barn wall, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat. He grins against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to murmur, “There she is.”

The slick sound of his fingers pumping into you fills the quiet barn, mingling with your soft, breathy whimpers. His thumb circles your clit with devastating precision, each pass of his fingers inside you coaxing your body closer to the edge.

“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, honey,” he groans, his voice rough and dripping with praise. “Can feel how close you are. Bet you’re gonna fall apart for me so pretty, aren’t ya?”

You shake your head, your breath coming in soft pants. “No.” Your hand snakes down to his wrist, halting his movements. “Wanna finish with you inside me.”

Logan stills, his breath catching as your words hang heavy in the air. His fingers stay buried inside you, the slight curl of them making your thighs quake as his eyes search yours.

The fire there burns hotter now, feral and barely restrained.

“Yeah?” The raw hunger in his voice makes your pulse spike. “You want me inside you, huh? Wanna feel me stretch you open, baby?”

You nod eagerly, your chest heaving as his words fan the flames of your desire.

“Alright,” he mutters darkly, voice gone low and smoky. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Logan slips his fingers from the warm grip of your pussy, the sudden emptiness stealing all the air from your lungs. You miss the stretch almost immediately, clenching around nothing with a soft moan.

He lifts his hand between you, his fingers glistening with your wetness in the dim light. “Look at that,” he says softly, almost in awe, before slipping his fingers into his mouth and groaning at the taste.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your cheeks burning at the sight.

Logan catches your gaze, a wicked smirk spreading across his face as he leans in close. “C’mon,” he whispers softly against the skin of your neck, hands slipping around the backs of your thighs and squeezing gently. “Up.”

You hitch your legs up around his waist, a soft breath escaping you at the way he lifts you with ease, like you weigh nothing.

You can’t help but run your hands over the thick muscle of his biceps as he walks you further into the barn, lips trailing wet kisses along where his shirt’s top button popped open, exposing more of his tan skin to your greedy eyes.

Logan falls back against a knocked over bale of hay, you feel the hot length of his hard cock grinding over the slick fabric of your panties as he positions you over his lap.

You waste no time, stray pieces of hay digging into your knees as your trembling hands reach for his buckle. Your fingers brush over the cool metal as you fumble sliding the worn leather through his belt loops.

Logan just watches you, leaning back on his forearms with a smirk—cool as ever.

Once his belt is undone and his zipper dragged down, you shove at his jeans, watching with a mix of anticipation and desire as his cock springs free, thick and heavy and already leaking for you.

You’ve heard the expression ‘hung like a horse’ countless times. You always thought it was a gross exaggeration, until now.

Logan’s hand glides down his stomach to start stroking himself lazily, his eyes never leaving yours. “Been hard since the second I laid eyes on you tonight. Could barely keep my hands to myself, watchin’ you all dolled up like that. Drove me fuckin’ crazy.”

Your mouth waters with the need to taste, eyes tracking the thick line of pre-come leaking from his flushed tip.

The phantom ache in your jaw almost has you dropping to your stomach right there, but you know that your time here is limited, and you need Logan inside of you more than anything.

You lean back, lifting your legs so you can shimmy your soaked panties down and off, tossing them behind you haphazardly the same way you tossed his belt.

His eyes are locked onto yours as you crawl back towards him, situating yourself over his lap all over again. You take a steadying breath as you reach for his cock, nearly moaning at the heft of it in your hand, at the near scalding touch of his silky skin against your palm.

“Hang on, baby.” Logan’s hands fall to your hips, stopping you just as the tip of his cock brushes against your dripping pussy. “You wanna ride, you gotta look the part.”

He drags his hands lower, calloused palms rough against the soft skin of your thighs. It’s enough to make you shiver, hips twitching down with the desperate need to be filled.

“Got the boots,” he murmurs idly, thumbs sliding along the back of your thighs. “Just need the hat.”

Logan reaches up to grab his hat by the crown, pulling it off his head to drop it on yours.

You left out a soft breath, feeling the worn felt settle on the top of your head, still warm from his own.

It’s too big, slipping down to shadow your eyes. Logan’s gaze darkens as he adjusts it, tipping it back just enough to frame your face.

“Much better,” he says, flicking the brim once before his hands fall back to your hips. “Alright cowgirl, give it to me good.”

The words shoot straight to your core, igniting something wild and reckless inside you.

You bite your lip, spurred on by the way his hands knead the meat of your hips. Not forcing or pushing, just two steady weights as you slowly start to sink down.

It's nearly torturous, but in the best way possible. The stretch of each inch a pleasant burn as your hips slot against his after what feels like an eternity.

“Fuck.” Logan grits out, his hands tightening on your hips as you settle, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the overwhelming fullness.

Your body trembles, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you slowly begin to move, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles.

Logan’s eyes track every movement, darkened with need, a quiet groan slipping from him as his hands slide lower, gripping your ass, urging you to pick up the pace.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “Takin’ it all so good.”

His praise only encourages you, and you lift yourself up before sinking back down, your hands gripping the scratchy fabric of his shirt for leverage.

The feeling of him filling you up, stretching you with every downward movement, makes your head swim, the pressure building in your core.

The barn is filled with the sounds of skin slapping together lewdly, with the wet gush of your pussy leaking around the base of his cock messily. It has your ears burning, shame and arousal a heady mix in your lower belly.

Logan’s hips start to rise from the barn floor, snapping up to meet yours with every bounce. You can feel him deeper like this, brushing against places that make your legs shake with pleasure.

You’re dangerously close to the edge already, a mess from all the teasing earlier. But from the way Logan’s muscles flex and tense beneath you, you can tell he is too.

“Goddamn,” he growls, his hands moving to grip your thighs, helping you bounce on top of him impossibly faster. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby, so fucking perfect. Don’t stop.”

His words make your head spin, the filthy praise sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. You can’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

Your hands scramble for the front of his shirt, tugging and pulling until it’s loose enough to show off the toned muscle of his chest.

You rake your nails through the dark hair decorating his skin, hardly paying any attention to the brand burned into the skin across his left pec.

"Tell me how it feels," he groans, his voice dark and commanding. "Tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel."

"So good," you manage to gasp, your voice breaking as he grinds against that perfect spot inside you. "Logan, I—"

“You’re close,” he rasps, his grip on your hip tightening as he drives into you harder. “I can feel you, baby. So fuckin’ close. Gonna come for me, aren’t ya? Gonna milk my cock like a good girl?”

You’re too far gone to answer, your body trembling as the coil in your stomach clenches, tighter and tighter. Your head lolls back to the ceiling, eyes fluttering shut as you near the edge.

"C’mon honey," Logan groans, his thumb finding your clit again, circling it in time with his thrusts. “Come for me, let it all fuckin’ out.”

You're helpless to deny him, the thick stretch of his cock paired with the gentle pressure of his thumb on your clit tightening your body like a bowstring threatening to snap.

“Logan—oh God—Logan!” Your orgasm crashes over you, leaving you trembling and gasping as your walls shake around him.

Logan’s hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as he groans low in his throat. “Goddamn,” he growls, his voice wrecked. “So fuckin’ perfect, squeezin’ me so tight—fuck—”

With a few more rough thrusts, he buries himself as deep as he can go, his body going rigid against yours as he finds his own release, groaning your name like it’s the only word he knows.

You slump onto him gracelessly, your body spent and trembling as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His cock jumps and pulses inside you, sending little aftershocks through your sensitive core as you feel the slick spray of his come painting your walls.

The rough fabric of his shirt feels oddly comforting on the overheated skin of your cheek as you rest your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath.

The brand catches your eye again, more pronounced now that the wiry hair dusted along his chest lays flush, slick with a thin sheen of sweat.

You raise your hand, gently tracing over the raised skin, feeling the rough texture under your fingertips. A curved ‘X’ scarred right over his heart.

The same ‘X’ that was embroidered on the front of Marie’s shirt, that hangs above the doors of the very barn you lay in, that’s scattered all throughout the property.

You read once that not all cowboys choose the brand, only the most loyal to the ranch. A kind of fierce loyalty that knows no bounds, that has no limits—it may be the only loyalty most will ever know.

You think back to your grandmother sitting you down at her weathered kitchen table a few days before your father and you made the move. The stern talking to she gave you felt silly at the time, useless information that you’d never actually need.

Now that you're here, her words ring in your ears for the first time in months, blaring and unavoidable.

“Don’t go and get mixed up in any cowboy business, honey. They’ll never love you more than the life, you’ll always be in the rearview mirror.”

Logan takes your hand in his, bringing it from his chest to his lips for a quick kiss before pointedly lowering it to his jean clad thigh. You can feel the way his fingers flex around your wrist, telling.

You swallow hard, the air in the barn suddenly feeling thick and heavy.

You're pushing yourself to your feet before you even realize what you're doing, ignoring the dull ache as his spent cock slips from inside you.

Logan hisses at the sensation, but he's pushing himself to his feet all the same. You're dying to sneak a peek at the look on his face, but you refuse to turn to him.

Maybe out of shame, maybe out of fear for what you might find if you do.

You straighten the wrinkled fabric of your dress, trying in vain to make yourself look as half as presentable as you did before walking into this barn.

The distant sound of a zipper being tugged up and the whisper of denim against denim catches your attention. Your eyes flick to the doors, your brain going a million miles a minute as you consider your options.

You could always beat him to it. You could walk out right now and pretend this never happened, avoid Blackbird like the plague for the rest of your fathers political career.

You doubt you'd ever see Logan outside these fences, it would be so easy to forget.

You shift on your feet, lip caught between your teeth. The sweet ache between your legs only matches the one in growing your chest, all those good feelings sour at the thought of walking away.

Against your better judgment, you turn back to him.

Logan’s already looking at you, hands busy with slipping his belt back into place.

You’ve always been good at reading people, at gauging what they might be feeling, but as your eyes scan along the flushed skin of his face, you find yourself unable to describe what you see swirling in his eyes.

“When will I see you again?” It’s weak, barely a whisper. You want to kick yourself for sounding so small, for getting so caught up in a man you hardly know.

Logan lets out a soft breath, hands coming to rest on his hips as he searches for something to say. “Whenever you have a reason to I reckon'.”

The words hang heavy in the air between you.

His answer is honest, unpolished—just like him. Something about it hits you deeper than you expect, a bittersweet sting that tightens your chest.

It’s not a perfect answer, but it’s something.

You try to stomp down all the feelings of hope filling your mind, pointedly ignoring the eruption of butterflies in your stomach.

“Well if that’s the case,” you say slowly, eyes never leaving Logan’s as you step closer. “Then I guess you better keep these.”

You reach around his waist to slip your panties in the back pocket of his jeans, patting the denim a few times for good measure before you step away again.

“Gives you a reason to come see me again, cowboy.”

Logan chuckles, soft and sweet as he shakes his head bemusedly. He raises his hand, gently taking his hat from your head to drop it back on his own.

“You’re really somethin’ else,” he mutters, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, the gesture tender in its unexpectedness.

You let out a shaky breath, heart pounding in your chest, and for a moment, everything feels raw.

Too raw. Like you're teetering on the edge of something dangerous and intoxicating, something you’re not sure you’re ready to handle.

You let your gaze drop to the floor, biting the inside of your cheek as you resist the urge to say something else, to push the moment further.

Instead, you turn, taking a slow step toward the barn doors.

Just before you reach them, you hear him again, his voice steady, but there’s something in it that makes you pause, hands lingering on the doorframe.

"Don’t be a stranger, alright?" he calls after you.

You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes one last time. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: lowkey want to make this a series...like this was so fun to write and i have a few more ideas...let me know chickens <3

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millers-angel · 25 days ago

Note

I need more about this fic (beach trip). Please give us more chapters, more drama, more smut.

beach trip — second night.

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

thanks to everyone who read the first part! <3 first of all, the dry humping part is because of that damn picture, look how bulky he is, anyone would be lucky to dry hump him. this is mostly smut! summary: the day after losing your virginity to your dad's best friend, you just want more, no matter if other people are around, but also you sneak to joel's room in the middle of the night. warnings: dry humping in public, use of pet names, masturbation, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (reader isn't on birth control), praising kink, creampie. wc: 5.5k

You were taking a sunbath by the beach, on those bed-like lounge chairs. Dad and Joel were most likely at the bar, but you... you have your mind somewhere else.

You haven't stopped thinking about last night, it was... a lot. You've been thinking about tonight, about sneaking to Joel's room when you're sure dad is not gonna interrupt.

You haven't stopped thinking about last night, about the way Joel touched you, how he made you feel things you never even knew you could. It didn’t matter that he’d been an idiot before with that guy at the bar—he more than made up for it. Besides, he proved something you’d been dying to know: he wanted you, at least in that way.

Joel was always so quiet, so reserved, but last night... last night he was anything but that. He showed you a different side of him, one that made you weak and your body ache to feel him again.

You were trying to think of something else, the beach, how nice the weather was even, but then it was just him again.

"Hey," to your surprise, it was him, Joel, sitting next to you in the chair.

"Hey," you fixed your hair nervously, as if he could read your mind. "Where's dad?"

He nodded at the direction he came from. "Found some folks who played cards... so he will be busy for a bit," you both chuckled.

"Oh, well..." you played with your feet. "You didn't want to join them?"

He made a face. "Not really," he sighed. "Also, your dad asked me to keep an eye on you."

You scoffed, crossing your own arms. “He thinks I can’t take care of myself?”

Joel chuckled, his gaze full of amusement. “Wow, and here I thought you wouldn’t complain.”

Your cheeks flushed. It was embarrassing how much you actually wanted to be around him. How you’d been waiting for a chance to sneak away together again. But you wouldn’t admit that, not out loud.

“I’m not complaining,” you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant.

His grin was wide. “Sure doesn’t sound like it,” he teased. “Actin’ like you didn’t like it last night.”

Your heart skipped, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to come up with something to say. But nothing came out, not when the memory of his hands on you was so fresh, so vivid.

"Are you sore, though?" he asked.

"Do I look sore?" you teased back.

Joel’s eyes trailed over you, slower this time, taking his time as he looked you up and down. You were stretched out on the lounge chair, your sun-kissed skin glowing under the light. The two-piece swimsuit shaped every curve perfectly, leaving just enough to his imagination, although he has already seen it. His gaze locked on the way the fabric sat on your hips, how it pressed on your breasts, how your slopes pump perfectly for him.

“You look…” His voice was low, almost a murmur. “You look good.” His eyes darkened, going back up to meet yours, but not before taking one more long look at you. “Too good.”

Your heart skipped a beat, heat blooming across your cheeks and between your legs. You swallowed, suddenly self-counscious of how little you were wearing, how exposed you felt under his gaze—and how much you liked it.

But you couldn’t help yourself—you looked at him the same way.

He was wearing swim trunks, low on his hips. Your eyes swayed, just for a moment, stopping at the way he was bulky on the crotch, your mouth went dry. You knew you shouldn’t look, but you couldn’t help it.

When you looked back up, his eyes were on you, his lips curling into that lazy, knowing smirk. “Caught you starin’, sweet girl.”

Your face went hot, and you quickly looked away. “Was not,” you mumbled, but you could still feel his eyes on you.

He leaned in just a little, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Liar.”

You huffed. "So what? You were doin' the same thing, old man."

“Old man, huh?” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “You keep callin’ me that and you're gonna end up on your knees.”

You swallowed. "Why would I even get on my knees for?" You knew what he meant, but you wanted to play with him.

He chuckled, his gaze dropped to your lips, staying there before his eyes met yours. He leaned in, his face close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. "You're a little tease, aren't you, angel?"

"Yeah? What you're gonna do about it?"

His grin widened. There it was—the bratty virgin he talked about last night. Sure, you weren’t a virgin anymore, but that defiance was still there, alive and kicking. It made him chuckle.

He liked that about you. Hell, he liked everything about you.

"What am I gonna do? I just told you, I'm gonna get you on your knees."

Your breath hitched, your eyes searching his for some sign of hesitation, but all you saw was hunger, raw and unapologetic. Your heart raced. You were dangerously close now, his face inches from yours but your eyes never left his.

His hand slid up, resting on your inner thigh, fingers curling just slightly. His touch was gentle. “You keep lookin’ at me like that,” his voice dropped to a rough whisper, “and I’m not gonna be able to stop myself.”

"Too bad we're in public," you teased, taking a step back from him.

His eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as you stepped away. But before you could take another breath, he closed the distance, his hand catching your waist, pulling you against him. His mouth was on yours, rough and demanding, lips firm as his fingers dug into your skin.

You gasped, but he swallowed the sound, his tongue teasing yours, his other hand slipping to the back of your neck to hold you there. When he finally pulled away, his eyes were wild, his breathing heavy. “Public or not, you keep pushin’ me, and I won’t care who’s watchin’.”

You bit your lip decided to be brave enough to test him. Your lips pressed against his again, not rough as he had been, but gentle, the softness of your lips makes him weak, needy.

Your hand dropped to his lap, going up to his crotch, feeling the shape of his dick over the fabric of his trunks. He broke the kiss immediately.

He looked around and there was almost anyone on the beach—not close at least, just people taking sunbaths near the shore.

His gaze darkened and you just laughed, as if you've won, which you're far from doing.

"I need you to go to the shore and come back, then you sit on my lap." His voice was commanding, not playful.

"What?"

"If you don't want that then we can just fuck here, right now."

You blinked and stood up, walking slowly to the shore as he asked you to, slightly letting your feet get damped with water. You turned around before walking to him.

He had shifted in his seat, now lounging on the bed-like beach chair with his legs slightly apart, looking relaxed but undeniably masculine. His arms were draped casually, his posture lazy yet somehow commanding, his eyes fixed on you.

You sighed and made your way to him, kinda nervous, what does he has in mind? Fucking? No, it would be dangerous.

But you did as he said and when you got to him, you sat on his lap. His arms wrapped you immediately.

"Now you're gonna cum, sweet girl." He said leaving sloppy kisses on your back.

"What?" You gulped. "How?"

"You're gonna move these," his hands shifted to your hips and patted them. "But slow... unless you want to make a scene, or worse."

You could fight with him on that, maybe tell him he was a pervert for doing something like that in public, but the truth is... you want it as much as he does.

You nodded and started doing as he said. Slowly swaying your hips on his bulge. There it was, you could feel it in your core, bricked up and throbbing, pleading to come out.

You weren't an expert, in fact, you've done this only once with a guy and it was nothing like this. You had no idea if you were moving good—you weren't, but it felt good. It looked adorable to him, the way you let your body guide you.

One of his hands shifted from your hips to your chest, he let it rest on your breast, cupping it, squeezing it just a little, making you feel good, making you shiver.

You were muffling moans, trying not to do anything that might attract atention, but you were failing.

"Better keep it quiet." He said against your ear.

You let your butt fell a little too hard on his crotch, making him groan. "Better keep it quiet," you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.

His hand curled on your hair, pulling it a little. He thrusts his hips up, meeting your movements, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chases his own pleasure.

"Joel—" you whimpered.

You can feel it in your core, you're all wet, sensitive. Joel smirks, feeling your body shudder against him.

"You're so responsive," he says, his voice low and rough. "It drives me fucking crazy."

He tightens his grip on your hips, guiding your movements as you continue to grind against him, his own body trembling with need.

"Does it feel good?" You asked softly.

You could feel his cock twitching, he must be glazing inside his trunks, just as you are. He groaned and pulled your hair in response. His thrusts became faster, more needy than before.

His hand dropped your hair to come to your inner thighs, spreading your legs just enough to make his way to your crotch, finding your clit over your swimsuit.

You couldn't help to moan when he started drawing circles on it, he could feel how warm and wet you were, how swollen and flushed your poor little pussy must be. The idea drove him crazy enough to come, but he didn't—yet.

Your movements went more frentic too. Now either of you could hide what you were doing, and couldn't care less about the people nearby too. You were too lost in each other, like two cavemen driven by raw instinct, seeking nothing but pleasure.

Your walls throbbed and your whole body was twitching, it felt too good. Joel's fingers work faster, his touch becoming more firm as he circles your clit, his other hand holding you steady so you can grind against him even more.

He was in pain, he needed to come, but he wanted you to do it first. He can feel your softness over the clothes, he can feel how wet you are for him, how needy you are.

"I'm gonna—"

"Yeah, that it. Come f'me." He growled on your ear.

He pressed his fingers too hard on your clit and one moment to the other, your hips movements went low, but that didn't stop him to keep playing with your clit, as he creamed his trunks.

You both were panting, trying to catch your breaths. You didn't move from his lap, just let your body go limp over him. He chuckled and moved you to the chair, laying you back down gently. His eyes met yours, a satisfied grin on his face.

“That was…” you started, still catching your breath, “I liked that.”

His fingers brushed a stray hair from your face. “Yeah?” He leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. “Me too, angel. More than you know.”

"Did you finish?" you asked, barely confused.

He laughed. "I did,"

You bit your lip. "Can I see?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I mean, I wanna see how it looks," You swallowed. "If that's okay."

His gaze was filled with amusment, and this time, he looked around before lifting his trunks. You moved your head immediately to take a peep of him.

Your gaze darkened when you saw the mess you made. His pubes were all covered in cum, so was his length, his tip all flushed and swollen.

Your hand moved, wanting to touch him, but he held your wrist and fixed his trunks before you could go any further.

"You need it that bad?"

Your heart raced, his words sinking in. You looked up at him, cheeks warming as you whispered, “I want to do it again.”

He laughed softly, a deep, rumbling sound that made your stomach flutter. “Oh, I know.” His voice low and rough, “But not here. Not where anyone can see you like this.”

You shivered at his possessive tone, a heat sparking inside you all over again. “Tonight?” you asked, a little breathless.

“Yeah,” he promised, his thumb tracing your jawline. “Tonight.”

The day passed slowly. You spent the afternoon with your dad and Joel, watching the sunset from the beach, the sky painted in shades of pink and orange as the waves lapped at the shore. It was peaceful, dad's arm around your shoulders as he talked about old memories, laughing at his own jokes. You missed moments like this—simple, carefree.

Later, the three of you went to dinner. The restaurant was lively, filled with laughter and clinking glasses. Joel sat across from you, occasionally meeting your eyes with a knowing look that made your heart race. You tried to act normal, joining the conversation, laughing at dad’s stories, but you couldn’t ignore the way Joel’s leg brushed against yours under the table.

After dinner, as you all headed back to your rooms, your dad stopped you, his hand on your shoulder. “Hey, the bar’s having live music tonight,” he said. “If you wanna go, have some fun.”

You smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

Joel’s voice was casual, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Thought I saw you there last night... with some guy.”

You held back a laugh, thinking about how shameless he could be. “Yeah? It was boring, though,” you said, your eyes meeting his for a split second before you looked away. “Probably won’t go again.”

Your dad nodded, giving you a warm smile. “Well, up to you. It’s your vacation, kiddo. Goodnight.” He gave you a quick hug before walking to his room.

“Goodnight, daddy,” you called after him, your heart fluttering as Joel stayed a moment longer, his gaze lingering before he turned away.

You stood there for a moment, the night air cool against your skin, knowing exactly where you’d be once your dad fell asleep.

You went back to your room, closing the door quietly behind you. The events of the day replayed in your mind as you turned on the shower, letting the warm water wash away the sand and salt. You took your time, the anticipation building with every passing second.

Once you were out, you slipped into a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt. It wasn’t anything sexy—not like you had planned on doing anything during this trip. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest at the thought of where you were headed.

You waited, listening carefully, making sure your dad’s room was silent. Then, heart pounding, you slipped out of your room, moving quickly down the hall. You barely breathed as you ran to Joel’s door, the cool tiles cold under your feet.

You knocked once, and the door opened almost immediately. His hand shot out, grabbing your waist as he pulled you inside, the door clicking shut behind you.

His lips were on yours before you could speak, rough and desperate, his hands on your hips, pressing you against him. You gasped, fingers curling in his shirt, and he groaned, his mouth moving hungrily over yours.

“Couldn't wait, huh?” he whispered against your lips, his voice low, teasing.

Your heart raced, your knees weakening as his hands tightened on your waist. “Neither could you,” you shot back, and he laughed, his mouth crashing against yours again.

Your breath hitched when his hands moved lower, gripping the back of your thighs. Before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist. You clung to him.

He laid you down on the bed, his body pressing over yours, his weight warm and familiar. His eyes were dark, trailing you as he leaned in, his lips brushing your jaw, your neck.

You shivered, your heart pounding as his mouth moved lower, his hands sliding under your shirt, his touch sending sparks down your spine.

“Still thinkin’ about last night?” he murmured, his voice rough against your skin.

Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, your breath catching as his mouth found yours again. “Yeah… and tonight.”

His laugh was deep, his lips curving against yours before he kissed you harder, his hands exploring, his body pressing closer. “Good.”

"You promised I could touch you tonight."

Oh, so you really meant it, he thought.

"We're gonna talk first, sweet girl." He clicked his tongue.

You nodded, shifting your position in bed to sit on your knees.

“Have you ever touched a man… like that?” You sighed and shook your head. “Before last night, have you ever seen someone’s dick?”

Your cheeks flushed. “I mean, not in person,”

“What?” He frowned, confused.

“Just… just in videos.” It was more embarrassing than you thought, it should be a common thing, right? But it felt embarrassing to admit.

His smile made you feel even worse. “You’re a filthy little thing, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “Forget it,”

“There it is, the stubborn virgin,” he seemed delighted.

“I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“You act like one,” he shrugged. “So if you watched those videos, I’m assuming you touch yourself,”

“No, I actually watch them for fun, Joel,” your tone laced with sarcasm.

“Show me,” his gaze went dark. “I wanna see how you touch yourself.”

You chuckled. “Why?”

His fingers played with the hem of your shirt before taking it off. “Because I wanna see it,” He could feel it, you were wearing nothing under it, your nipples went hard when they felt the cold breeze.

“Am I gonna touch you after?”

He nodded. “You’re gonna get on your knees after you show me how you touch yourself.”

You took a deep breath and he got rid of your shorts, leaving you bare on the bed. Your hands instinctively covering your private parts.

“You get naked too,” you murmured.

That’s fair. He took off his shirt, hair messy once it went over his head and the shirt fall to the floor, followed by his pants and boxers.

Your mouth went dry and your toes curled up on the sheet.

He chuckled and drew your knees apart, making you flush. “Now touch yourself,”

One kiss. It had been one kiss and a little touch from his side and you were already wet. Your pussy was puffy, flushed and slick with juices.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, you’re dying of the embarrassment, you've never done something like this. You spread your legs just a little more, ready to stroke your swollen and aching clit.

Once your fingers brushed it, you can't help to moan at your own touch. You draw circles around it. You let his name escape from your mouth once or twice, it's involuntary, but it has an effect on him.

He was delighted with the view, what a treasure his friend brought to earth. She was perfect. Your little fingers trying their best to get you pleasure.

"Get your fingers inside that pretty little hole." His voice makes you shiver.

You nod as you can and get a finger inside. It makes you whimper, even if it’s not as thick as his, it feels good. Your hips bucking at your own pace.

He was delighted hearing your little moans, seeing how your fingers comes out slick and the sound they make.

You feel his hand in your thigh, you open your eyes to look at him.

"Now let's try my fingers," he says. "Is that okay?" he asks.

"Y-yes," you say. "Please.”

He trail his fingers all over your pussy lips, his thumb stays in your clit and draw circles around it adding a little press every time he touched it. You can't help to whimper.

He tease your cunt with his index finger. "P-please, Joel," you say almost begging.

He slides a finger inside, slowly. Your back arches. You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "How does it feel?" he groans.

"F-fucking good," your voice laced with pleasure.

He doesn't stop rubbing your clit as he moves his index finger. "You’re fucking tight," he mumbles. "You have a pretty little thing in here." he made you spread your legs more to take a better look of your pussy.

"Is it okay of we try two fingers?" you nod.

He goes for the second finger and this time, you start to hear your own juices as he gets his fingers inside and out. "She needs to be touched so bad." he says groaning and you nod.

You lean your head against the headboard, parting your lips, letting moans escape from your mouth.

"Joel—" you cry out.

"Yeah?" he asks as he stops moving his fingers.

"Don't—" you feel like you're about to come. "Don't stop."

"Poor baby," his voice low, teasing. "She needs to come, doesn't she?" You nod.

He starts rubbing your clit again, moving his fingers inside you a little faster than before.

You grasp the pillow and say his mame over and over as your cunt throbs in his fingers. "'s okay," he says. "You're doing good," he sounds so... soft. "You can let it go."

And you do when he gives you the word, his hand is all wet and sticky because of you.

"Joel—" You feel the bed a little wet too. You can't stop heavily breathing. He rubs your head and kiss your forehead.

You were a little embarrassed, never shown yourself like this to anyone. And maybe—just maybe, he could feel your embarrassment because he cupped your cheek.

“You did it amazing, angel.”

You licked your lips and trailed him, searching for something in his eyes, and it wasn’t hard to find. His gaze was all dark, it took you seconds to look down to his crotch, seeing him all bricked up.

“It’s my turn now.”

He chuckled and you stood up, walking to his side of the bed, kneeling in front of him. Just as he said, he would get you on your knees.

He was amused watching the scene, you were between his thighs, eager to touch him and waiting for his orders.

You rested your head on his inner thigh, looking up to him. His hand cupped your cheek.

“You don’t have to.” He said, since you just had an orgasm, maybe you need more time.

You frowned. “You don’t want to?”

“I do, but—“

“I want it too, you promised, Joel.”

His grin grew wider and he held his cock, stroking it a little. You could see a drop of precum leaking from the tip, his thumb swirling around it, it sent tingles to your core.

“Go ahead, touch me.”

You bit your lip and just as last night, your first instinct was to touch his tip, and still had the same effect on him, but this time, he didn’t stop you.

Your finger trailed his length, his cock twitching at your touch. You’ve never seen anything like this, it was… huge, everything about it. His balls even. You fisted him, doing what you’ve seen in the videos, your hand pumping him.

He hissed, you were being too harsh all at once, he was sensitive. Your skin smooth and soft against his, it was too much. You were too much, without even trying.

You leaned your head, eager to taste him. But you raised your gaze first, as if asking him if it was okay, which he responded with his hand guiding you to his dick. Fingers digging on your scalp.

Your lips brushed his tip and you could feel how warm he was before wrapping your lips around him. He grunted, he ain’t lasting, not with you being like this.

You swirled your tongue on his tip, the white fluid tastes… salty, but not bad. You like it. You decided to go further and bury yourself on his cock.

It was too much, it made you gag. “Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”

You nodded and this time you did it slower, trying to figure out how far can you get. Then you started to go in and out on him, with his help. He was guiding your head.

His cock twitches on your mouth, you can feel his pubes beneath your chin.

Your palm lies on his belly and pull his hairs. "Taking this cock so good." he groans. "That's it, you want it all, don't you?"

He has both hands on your head, pushing you deep down, but still, you can't get it all in your mouth.

"You’re too big," you mumble and as soon as you finished the sentence, he flipped you over.

You're on your back again. He's pumping himself, you're not breaking eye contact, you love hearing the slapping sounds he makes, mixed with his whimpers.

He's imagining your pretty face glazed in cum. But not today, he needs to fuck you to cum.

Without any warning, he slams his cock inside you, making you whine. It feels too good to complain about him not wearing a condom, about going raw.

But you have to. “Joel,” you said in a moan. “The condom,”

“Fuck it,” he grunted. “I need you like this.”

And who were you to complain? You were too lost in the sensation. You were craving this again, the way he thrusts, the way his cock fills you every time.

You’re grasping to his arm but he held your wrist to the pillow, intertwining your hands.

Your legs were pushing him down at you. Your bodies melted against each other, becoming one.

“Fucking tight,” he groaned on your ear.

He thrusted harder, making you let go off his hands to dig your nails on his back, dragging them all over it, no matter if you leave scratches, he couldn’t care less.

At some point, he couldn’t help himself, being as tough as he would be normally. You seemed to enjoy it, by the way your moans filled the room, by the way your walls throbs.

“Such a good girl,” he said softly.

Your body stiffened, he knows the orgasm is already in your belly, you're just holding it, but you don't want this to stop. You look adorable being all aroused, being fucked.

You curl your toes. "It's okay, you don't need to hold it," he assures. "I want you to come."

You shake your head and press your lips against his, pulling him down furiously. Tasting him, exploring his mouth as you reach the orgasm.

God knows how much he held it, but your walls were choking him, the way your body was shaking beneath him, he lost it.

He didn’t even have time to pull out, he came inside you. And for a moment he didn’t even care, he would love to be the one to get you all round, carrying his child.

You didn’t seem to care either, not in the moment. It was pure pleasure, you’ve never felt anything like that—being filled, feeling something bubbling inside you.

It made you see the stars.

You sticked together for a couple of seconds, just panting. He pressed his lips against your forehead and then you looked for his lips.

He pressed your foreheads together before pulling out, a loud pop sound, then he left you empty.

"Stay still," he asked holding your knees, spreading them apart.

It was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, your pussy was leaking his cum. He's gonna get hard again to that view. But instead, he dip two fingers in your cunt, making you wince.

"I'm sorry," he said and you nodded.

He got out as much as he could, his fingers all sticky, coating in white. You were watching what he was doing, licking your lips without even noticing.

"Hungry, angel?" he asked, tone teasing.

You breathed. "I... I just—"

Before you could finish, his fingers were over your lips, and you opened your mouth like a fool, letting him make you taste his cum.

You sucked his fingers clean, hollowing your cheeks. You were too naughty for your own good.

"Good girl." His voice laced with amusement.

He wiped down the rest and then collapsed beside you on the bed, his body sinking into the mattress. You turned over, lying on your stomach, your head facing him. Silence settled between you, the only sound coming from the distant crash of the ocean waves outside.

Your mind now was in a war, thinking about the consequences of what just happened. You thought about protection, about the risks... but the thought didn’t last long. It drifted away as easily as it came. You were here, with him, and that was all that mattered.

You closed your eyes for a moment before murmuring, “You’re gonna have to put me on birth control.”

He laughed, low and rough, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh, so you’re already planning on sneakin’ into my room again?”

You bit your lip, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe... if you’re lucky.”

His eyes darkened, his fingers brushing along your spine, teasingly slow. “Angel, luck’s got nothin’ to do with it. You’ll be back.”

You laughed, soft and warm, letting the sound melt between you two. Then, you leaned in to press your lips against his cheek, taking him by surprise. He looked at you, eyes softening as he cupped your face.

"When we get back home?" your eyes lighted up. "How are we gonna do? I was thinking maybe you could—I don't know, maybe teach me how to drive?"

He chuckled. "Is that your plan to keep seeing me?"

You shrugged. "Dad promised he would teach me but he never did, so maybe his friend can take his place."

He laughed, amused, you're adorable sometimes. “What am I gonna do with you?”

You shrugged, a playful grin on your lips. “I don’t know... enjoy me?”

His laugh was deep, sending a flutter through your chest. "Okay, we'll see about that."

"And the birth control."

He grinned, his hand slipping on your stomach, his fingers warm against your skin. “I wouldn’t mind gettin’ you all round for me,” he teased, his voice low as he pressed a light kiss to your cheek.

Your face went hot, a rush of warmth spreading through you. You grabbed his hand, holding it against your belly as you looked up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “Yeah? I bet you’d like that, huh?”

He chuckled, his nose brushing yours. "Maybe."

You closed your eyes, a small, satisfied smile still lingering as you relaxed beside him, of course you were joking, you knew your dad would kill him if that happens, Joel would get you on birth control. The sound of the waves outside lulled you, and before you knew it, sleep pulled you under.

Tangled in his sheets, you looked like an angel, even with your back bare and hair sprawled across the pillow. He watched you for a moment, shaking his head. You looked so innocent, but an hour ago, you were anything but that.

—

The next morning, you sat at breakfast, the sun warming your face. You were sipping your juice when your dad looked at you curiously. “So, did you end up going to the bar last night?”

You kept your expression neutral, shrugging casually. “Nope, didn’t go.”

He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “You know, you need to loosen up a little. Quit bein’ so shy all the time.”

You nearly choked on your juice. You glanced at Joel, who was fighting back a grin, his eyes filled with amusement. If only your dad knew you still have a part of his friend bubbling inside you. If only your dad knew his daughter was fucking the man sitting right next to him.

Your face went hot, and you pulled your knees up onto the chair, hugging them to hide your smile. You managed to mumble, “I’ll, uh... work on that,” trying not to burst into laughter.

Your dad’s eyes dropped to your legs, his brows knitting together. “Jesus, kid, look at your knees. That ocean’s been rough on you, huh? Must’ve taken quite a beating.” He shook his head, his tone teasing. “You gotta be more careful.”

You bit your lip, your eyes sliding to Joel, who was pretending to be very focused on his coffee. Careful... right. You swallowed a laugh, heat pooling low as you remembered just how you got those bruises. If only your dad knew how much you’d enjoyed getting them.

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coff33andb00ks · 7 months ago

Note

vivvvv how about…

11 + 24 with lando 😊

"It's impossible to get rid of me."/"Are you awake or asleep?"

driver + number = drabble <3

maddie babe ily

warnings: disgusting perverted amount of fluff

Lando Norris is, in his own words, a little bitch.

Granted, he said those words when he was drunk and a moth flew too close to his face, but you'll never let him forget that he uttered them.

Nor will you let him forget you have video of him screaming in terror and running straight into the glass door of the balcony to get away from the moth.

It's what your friendship is based on: embarrassing moments that the other finds hilarious but no one else would understand. Like the time you spent three minutes telling a store mannequin what you were looking for, or the time Lando locked himself out of his apartment at four in the morning. He has a tendency of doing that, so much so that when it happens he shows up at your place.

Like he is now, in his joggers and slides, without his wallet or phone, smiling sheepishly at you like it isn't three a.m.

"Don't you have other friends," you grumble, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.

"None that'll answer the door this late," he sighs.

You sigh and step back to let him in, pretending to be unaffected by the scent of him freshly showered. "How'd it happen?"

"Took out the trash and thought I had my key in my pocket." He looks entirely too comfortable in your tiny apartment, shirtless and his hair still damp.

Nodding, you shuffle to your bedroom to collect the spare key to his place. That he'd given to you so casually, like it was a normal thing for him to hand out an extra key, when you knew it wasn't because even Fewtrell didn't have a spare key back when Lando lived in England still.

"C'mon, you know I'll need it. Besides, you're the only one I trust to have it." He dropped the key - attached to a Snoopy keychain that you remember him buying in Vegas - into your purse. "There. Now it's impossible to get rid of me."

As if you'd ever want to.

He follows you into the bedroom and you're painfully aware of your unmade bed and the clothes you'd left on the floor. Which is ridiculous, because it's Lando, he's been in your bedroom before, he's seen your dirty underwear–

Just not at three in the morning...

"Fuck," you mutter, turning your purse upside down to empty it onto the dresser. The essentials of your life spill out, lip gloss and gum and wallet and keys - but not Lando's because that one stays on its Snoopy keychain it's special - and hand sanitizer and notepad and six pens and tissues and the ticket stub from the movie he took you to see two weeks ago and a friendship bracelet and two pads. Everything but his key.

"Don't tell me you've lost it," he says.

You scoff at the idea. You may have lost your mind, your sanity, and sometimes your wallet, but you'd never lose his key. Your sleepy mind scrambles. Two weeks ago you pulled it to give to him and–

"Oh shit it's at my place," he mumbles, clapping a hand over his face.

"Lando!" you groan, sweeping everything back into your purse.

He's sorry, you're annoyed, and after bickering uselessly you tell him to just go to bed, he can get his superintendent to let him in in the morning.

It's not unusual to share a bed with him. Lando's a clingy, touchy feely person, half the time you travel with him he ends up taking you into staying in his room. Ostensibly because he likes to talk but really because he wants to cuddle.

"You awake?" he whispers in the darkness. "Or asleep?"

You don't answer, because you know he's about to say something profoundly sweet or incredibly stupid.

He presses his face into your hair and sighs, much like an exhausted dog finally settling down for a good sleep. "I do it on purpose sometimes," he whispers. "Cuz I sleep better with you than when I'm alone."

As confessions go it's probably your favorite. But you have to pretend you don't hear it. You're smiling though, and you let out a sleepy little hum. And you feel him smile.

#inbox #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #drabbles

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szqnxi · 9 months ago

Text

|| Make...Love?

Shoto Todoroki x reader

Tsuyu hosted a sleep over at her room and all of Class 3-A girls are invited. Obviously, a sleep over won't be complete without fluffy cushions, games, gossips and a special mention of Yaoyorozu's tea.

You guys have been playing truth or dare for a while, it's just you and Uraraka that hasn't got their turns which makes you uneasy. You honestly don't know what Mina would ask you to do and you've already seen the things the girls did. One thing's for sure, this woman is scary.

"So...... Izuku right?" Mina asked as she turned to Uraraka who's face is now turning bright red.

"I don't like where this is going" Uraraka replied, trying to hide her flushed face in the palm of her hands, which activated her quirk, causing her to float around the room.

Mina giggled a little maniacally at Ochaco's words. In her head, she's thinking of all the things she would have her do, but you know she won't torment the poor girl that much. The pink haired removed "truth" as a choice because according to her, that's no fun at all. The girls agreed, including you, which you kind of regret now.

"So the dare is--" she paused, thinking for a second. "You need to send Midoriya a selfie. You can't tell him it's for a dare tho" this made Uraraka groan as she sat back beside Jirou.

"Oh! You need to ask his opinion about your new necklace as well" Hagakure added and Yaoyorozu agreed. The girls gave each other a high five while Uraraka let out a defeated sigh.

She opened her front camera and positioned the phone above her head, tugging on the chain slightly. She showed us the picture before sending it to Izuku. The picture was rather suggestive in your opinion; the angle made her necklace pop up, but the top part of her bossom is visible in the background, it didn't help that her face is a little red in the photo as well.

Uraraka: *Sent a photo*

Deku-kun, what do you think of new my necklace?

message delivered

"Now we wait" Mina cheerfully said and turned to you "You've been awfully quiet y/n" you can't help but to notice that grin plastered on her face and you know damn well she's up to no good.

"Let's get this over with" you told her with a sigh. You just wanted to quickly finish whatever suffering she's going to put you through.

Jirou pulled out her phone, searched for something before handing it to Mina. While they were busy discussing something, you nervously turned to Momo who's currently adjusting the eyeglasses he took from Iida "Can I back out?" but she just gave you a cheeky smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Goodluck"

Momo was the first one to be dared; her dare was to walk up to Iida, grab his glasses, wear it in front of him and walk away without saying anything. Tsuyu was dared to sit on Shoji's lap for 20 minutes. Hagakure had to confess on her long time crush, Ojiro, and lastly, Jirou was dared to shower Denki with praises for 10 minutes straight. Mina, on the other hand, was dared to kiss Bakugo on the cheeks, and you can already guess what happened next.

A phone was shoved into your line of sight. "You need to do this" Mina said while she pointed at the phone with a video playing. You look at her horrified but she just laughed at your face.

"But with who?" Tsuyu asked.

"Todoroki" Uraraka grinned.

"Yep. Definitely Todoroki." Jirou crossed her arms and nodded while her eyes are closed.

You looked at them confused. Although you do have a crush on Shoto, you have never told anyone about it nor show even a slight interest at him. You can feel your face heat up at the sudden realization that your friends knows about your little crush on him all along.

You sighed in defeat and just accepted the dare. What can possibly go wrong, right?

"We'll be watching" Mina winked at you as you guys marched towards the common area where the boys are hanging out. The girls stopped by the stairs, peeking a little. You made your way towards the couch where Kirishima and Shoto are sitting.

"Yo, y/n" Kiri greeted you and you just replied with a nod.

You sat beside Shoto who was munching on a chocolate chip cookie. He offered you a piece which you happily took and ate beside him.

"Oh this is good! Who made this?" you asked.

"I made it" Shoto turned to you. "I asked Kirishima and Bakugo to teach me" you nodded and quickly look away. You quietly scanned the whole room; Kiri and Shoto are minding their own business eating the cookies Shoto made, the Baku-squad are playing a video game while Izuku and the others are playing a monopoly game, though Izuku isn't really playing, he's just staring at the screen of his phone, looking very red.

You can't help but to chuckle to yourself. You quickly glanced towards the girls and Mina mouthed "now". Unbeknownst to you, Kiri was also looking at the girls direction, when your eyes landed on him, he gave you a confused look and you just replied with an apologetic look. His mouth turned into a circle when realization hits him.

'A game huh' he mouthed and you answered with a nod.

"Shoto" you turned to him.

"Yes?"

"Can we--" here goes nothing "make...love?" You can see Kirishima choke on his cookie in your peripheral vision.

"Make love?" he asked, confused.

You nodded. You can feel your face heat up. You looked away, not wanting to see the look on Shoto's face, you mentally wished that the couch would swallow you up because of the embarassment you feel.

You don't know what Shoto's response will be, but knowing him, you're sure he'll be nice at least. You mentally braced yourself for a rejection you're about to face. Or so you thought.

"Sure, but do we even have the ingredients for that?"

"What?" You and Kirishima said in unison.

Shoto looked at you two, confusion visible on his face.

"This is the first time I've heard about that dish" he stated. Kirishima snorted and finally let out the laugh he's been holding for so long, while you bit your inner cheek to hold back yours. Shoto on the other hand, ignored the red head and called Bakugo instead.

"Bakugo, can you send me the ingredients for love?" he asked as he pulled out his phone and started searching for the dish called love.

"What the fuck, Icy-Hot?!" Bakugo yelled, his eyes landed on Shoto, his face looking like he just heard the stupidest thing in the world. This took the attention of your other classmates as well.

His gaze left his phone, he quickly looked at you then at Bakugo "Y/n said they wanted to make lov-" you hurriedly jumped from your seat to cover Shoto's mouth.

"Ah! Oh my gosh don't mind him! It's a dare!" You half shouted. Your classmates just laughed at you, you can feel your face heat up due to embarrassment.

'Screw you Mina' you thought to yourself.

"Didn't know you're freaky like that y/n" Denki teased you. The others gave you a teasing look as well.

"It's a dare!" You shouted in horror.

"Sure, if you say so" he and the others laughed and get back to playing again. Kirishima, who's laughing with the others, stood up and bid farewell to the both of you. "I'll leave you guys to your own business" he said with a wink.

You just sighed. You're pretty sure all of your classmates will be teasing you for the next few days.

"Y/n" Shoto mumbled under your hand.

You quickly removed your hand from his mouth and apologized. "Sorry" you said awkwardly as you sat back on your spot again.

He just hummed. Silence took over the both of you. You quietly glanced towards the stairs and the girls are nowhere to be seen. They must've gone back to Tsuyu's room. You contemplated whether to go back to her room or not.

You let your eyes wander and it stopped at his phone, a search tab was open and it was an article about "make love". You turned to face Shoto, you opened your mouth to explain about the dare, but before you can say something, he pulled you by the collar of your shirt and gave you a peck on the lips.

You stared at him, wide eyed.

"I can't exactly give you what you want right now but I'm pretty sure a kiss will suffice?" he said.

"Wha-" he kissed you again. This time it was longer, until it was interrupted when a throw pillow hit the back of his head.

"Get a room you fucking dumbasses!!" it was Bakugo.

Great.

You gave him a middle finger and was about to talk back when Shoto pulled you away from the scene and lead you towards the second floor.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"Getting a room" he opened the door to his room and shoved you inside.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to give you what you want after all" he smiled at you and locked the door.

|| Masterlist

Note:Request box is open, pls pls pls drop someeeeee. I'd also appreciate anon comments/interactions so don't hesitate to reach out!!

#shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #mha shoto #shoto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki #mha shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #mha todoroki #shoto x y/n #todoroki x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha

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fawnindawn · 23 days ago

Text

Here We Go Again (Voices In His Head) - jason todd x reader

- you knew dating jason meant you would face trials, but an argument takes things too far. (angst to happy ending, i swear!/jason says mean things but he'll make it up to you <3)

When you first started dating Jason, he warned you many times that he had issues. There were some he told in short, quick breaths. The origins of scars he can't uncover to you, blood under his nails he can't quite be rid of, anger that never truly goes away. There were some you discovered yourself. He can't sleep with a blanket because it makes him feel suffocated, he flinches when there's construction in the neighbourhood, he shuts down and goes silent suddenly because of a patrol gone wrong.

"Don't shut me out, Jay."

He's been avoiding your gaze ever since he returned. You don't know what went wrong since his return from patrol, but there's that haunted look in his gaze, that clench in his jaw that shows its something he can't easily wash away.

"You won't understand." His voice is a cutting knife, with the carrying assumption heavy in the air. You never will. His eyes convey what hurts you most, the utter belief when he spits those words to your face.

Then why was it that you could read him like a book?

"How will you know if you won't let me try?" Your voice breaks, and you wish he could just let you in to prove him wrong.

There is a resigned expression on his face, filled with pity and self-hatred. You want to stop those thoughts that corrupt his will to find happiness, to see faults in every action he commits. To think the burden to save Gotham is on his shoulders because he's the only one that dares to do what others can't.

"You think I can't handle it." You know it's wrong to assume but when silence and vague words are the only companions you have in this conversation, you can't help but think it. "I was born and raised here too, Jason. I know what happens on our streets, I know that everyday, you try your best, but what ever happened today-"

"-Is nothing you have ever seen." He snaps, cutting you off as he finally looks at you, fire in his eyes. "You hear these things, from the news- from me, but you've never seen it for yourself. The children who died for nothing, those who deserve to die that rot in their mansions like pigs. Everything that's hidden from the public eye that continues to worsen every single day that I fail. That is why you'll never understand."

Flashes of everything the two of you have been through together, feels like it's being pushed further and further away. "What's the point then? Approaching me, letting me love you, and pushing it all away? Breaking what we built?"

He stares, watching you like you're out of reach. HIs fingers twitch, and his mouth nearly speaks the words needed to stop this fight. To bring you back into his arms. I love you. That's why.

"I don't know."

A beat. Then another. The silence stretches throughout your home, and of all the answers in the world, he chose the one dagger to stab you in the heart.

"You are afraid." You mutter, numb and empty. If he wants to treat you as an outsider to his life, you can't stop him. "You don't think I understand that you're pushing me away because you think it will protect me from your pain, but I do. I know you, Jason, and that doesn't stop me from loving you."

You see the flinch in his gaze, and the regret ready to pour out of his mouth.

"But you win." Your mouth tastes bitter with the admission. "I give in. I surrender. If you are determined it will end this way, I can't help you. Not till you see it for yourself, that the only reason I'm leaving is because you gave me no other choice."

Your feet move out the door, out of the home you share, and he doesn't stop you.

Six months pass like time is a fragmented concept, leaves curling and falling down the pavements, colouring the city a murky brown. It's a funny thing, how someone so deeply ingrained into your mind, fades from the city as if he never existed. As if he was a conjuring of your own imagination, you start to wonder if the phantom sting in your heart is the only evidence left of your time with him.

You do your best to ignore the betrayal that creeps up your throat on days when you swear you spot his shadow lingering near bus stops, or on your walks home, only to be reminded that he doesn't care enough to even show up to your door. You swallow back the sobs that threaten to escape you at night, you bury him in the back of your mind and you try to sleep, knowing that he used to lay his head beside yours at night.

It's late, and you're still tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep when you hear a knock at your window. You pause in your fretting, frozen to what couldn't be- Yes, it's that familiar, steady knock, three times on the glass which you both agreed to. It's been months. He can't possibly be here. Still, your body is a traitor to your mind, rushing at the familiarity, with a sickening hope towards your window. The familiar red helmet greets you, as well as the crimson blood staining his jacket.

When he slips in, you hate how your mind works in clockwork routine, grabbing the emergency kit as he slides down the wall, gripping his wound. The quiet has never rung so loud, deafeningly thick with questions raised in the air.

"It isn't fair." You spoke through the thick of the silence. "Coming to me because you know I'll open the door. After being quiet for months, after everything-"

"Six months, eight days, twenty hours." He cuts you off. His helmet is laying beside him, and you have a clear sight to a smile so wounded, and eyes so resigned as he looks at you. "If we're to be exact."

Your steps falter, and you starting to lean towards the possibility that you're hallucinating him, too tired from work, too tired to push away your vulnerability when it comes to him. Yet, even with a tired blink and a tightened grip on the metal box in your hand, he's still there in your view, and you've already kneeled down in front of him, taking in the blood on his hands.

You don't respond, because what is there to say to the revelation that he's kept track of the very day you turned your back on him. Instead, you lift his shirt to assess the wound. It's not one worth coming all the way to your apartment in the freezing cold, merely a deep scratch that gashed his skin, but nothing he couldn't take care of himself. An excuse, a lure, or maybe you're just thinking too much whenever it's about him.

Your eyes snap to his, questioning with your gaze. He knows he's caught, but he doesn't seem to care.

"I've been an idiot. A major dickhead." He breathes out, eyes lingering over your features, frantically taking all of you in. It's a hungry, desperate look that contrasts everything you've believed in the past months of torture. That he's forgotten you. "That day, I chose every possible wrong decision to hurt you, when you were the one I wanted to see most."

He clenches his jaw before he speaks again. "A child died in my arms that day."

Your eyes widen, and you feel guilt consume you for leaving him alone that day. "Jason-"

"No, I know what you're thinking, but don't think for a second about apologising when I didn't communicate to you properly." His gaze is serious as he continues. "My behaviour was awful, when you had only wanted to make sure I was okay, I pushed you away."

He looks at you, gaze softening. "You do understand me, and I was so afraid of feeling seen by you the same way I see myself, that I pushed you away. I lost you, and you were damn right to leave for the way I treated you."

You're silent, his confession too much, too sudden, too him. You had thought with time, your memories of him, the anguish in your heart would fade. Having him in front of you, carrying that same weight in his gaze that tells you more than words can speak, you can't deny just how much you've missed him. Tears leak out from your eyes, and you're sure you look a horrible mess, but he only wipes your tears gently.

"My biggest regret is that I should've ran after you. No, I shouldn't have even let you go without telling you that I love you." His fingers are shaking as he caresses your face. "I may be right about being broken, but that shouldn't have excused me from making myself the right man for you."

"I don't deserve your forgiveness, or your love. You can treat me like absolute shit, and I will take it all. But I will work every single day, till my last breath, to make sure you never doubt that you are loved, because you deserve to know that if anything I know about love, it is you."

"I love you. And no apology will ever be enough to change the fact that you didn't feel it from me." His voice is so raw, so choked with anguish, and this might be the closest semblance to tearing his heart out for you. "Will you still have me, if I promise you that if you ever feel like I screwed something up, you can shoot me in the head?"

You choke back a laugh through your sobs, hitting him in the chest, and he grabs hold of your hand, a warm, steady grip as he brings it to his lips and presses the softest kiss onto your skin. You steady your breath, before you finally speak again. "If you ever screw up, I promise you that you'll face much worse that a headshot."

He smiles, practically aglow as he leans in, nose brushing yours. "Make that a promise, sweetheart."

"And we're going to have a proper talk when you're all patched up, got it?"

He nods diligently, and your heart delights at the sight of him so obedient. "Anything you want." He drawls.

You see his eyes flicker to your lips, but he's holding back. Waiting for you.

"Are you going to kiss me?"

Your teasing words barely leave your mouth before he kisses you. It feels just like the first time, sweet and desperate, and you swear you can feel his promise sealed upon your lips. That this time, he won't let go.

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