#maybe they’re all the same boy (or maybe they were all a girl and everyone is just crazy)
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In the spy au
Does batman still get robins?
ABSOLUTELY
I feel like it’d be more parent relationship vs a mentor, the boys just being professional meddlers and bruce has to clip leashes onto their baby harnesses
#spy au#not much is known about agent bat except that he seemingly has a flock of strange children tied to his waist#they all have the same name#maybe they’re all the same boy (or maybe they were all a girl and everyone is just crazy)#bat and the robins just gaslighting everyone :)
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In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!reader
word count: a little over 1k
summary: you’ve had your heart broken many times, maybe the Hermes boy will be different
You have only ever wanted to be loved. For whatever reason you haven’t had much luck. Sure, there were many guys.
Callum from Ares. The only thing hotter than him was his temper.
Ryan from Hephaestus. He would forge copper to make you jewelry, little did you know three other girls had the same gift.
Ezra from Athena. Always thought he was so much smarter and better than you. Made you want to shoot your arrow straight at him.
Aiden from Hermes. A liar who couldn’t take anything seriously.
Elliott from Ares. Was dared by Callum to lock you in a dark room. And he actually listened.
Being the child of Apollo had its perks, but it more often had downsides. Your least favorite being your ability to fall in love so easily. After Elliot you swore off falling in love. A pain even you couldn’t heal. You couldn’t understand why nothing seemed to work out for you, you were a dreamboat!
A beautiful daughter of Apollo who glowed like the sun. Not only were you his daughter, you were his favorite, the hundreds of freckles on your face proved it. You were kind and generous, always willing to take in an injured camper from dusk to dawn. Your smile quite literally lit up a room. Perhaps you were too nice? Maybe they thought they could take advantage of your kindness?
Whatever the reason was doesn’t matter. You decided to take a page from your aunt Artemis’ book. No more boys, no more falling in love. Things will be easier this way. You know it.
You should’ve been at the bonfire with everyone else. You chose to skip it tonight because you wished to be alone, at the archery range. Maybe you’d earn another freckle if Apollo saw you practicing your already perfect shot. Luke should’ve been at the bonfire too, singing with your half-siblings and roasting marshmallows.
“Hey! I need some help!” A deep, painful cry said.
Immediately worried, you turned around and saw Luke Castellan holding his abdomen. You immediately run over to him, taking his arm over yours and getting to your cabin as soon as possible. You decided the infirmary was too far and you could use the cot in your cabin.
You slam through the cabin door and lay him on the cot in the middle of the bunk beds. “Lay down.”
You pull up his blood stained orange shirt to reveal a large gash on the side of his toned stomach. You held your hand on his abdomen for a moment to assess what happened. A second degree burn and large slices, as if by a horn, caused this.
“How did this happen?” You ask as you start to transfer some of the pain to a potted plant, causing it to wilt.
“Accident with a hephaestus kid, wrong place, wrong time I guess,” He says slightly wincing.
“I can take most of the pain but it’ll still take a while to heal,” You explain.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at the bonfire, leading a song with the rest of your cabin?” He asks.
“I could ask you the same thing, wandering around the blacksmiths. You know those things they make are pretty hot right?” You scoff at him.
“Yeah I guess I do now,” he rolls his eyes.
You begin to bandage the wound and give him a slice of bread. “Bread? What the hell is this gonna do?” he questions.
“My sister Melody made it, it can heal the burns for the most part,” you say.
“Aren’t you the girl who dated Aiden?” He asks bluntly, taking a bite of the bread.
“That’s none of your business,” You roll your eyes.
“If you ask me-” he begins to say before you cut him off.
“I’m not.”
“He was an idiot. All those guys were. I mean seriously, didn’t anyone teach them how to treat a pretty girl?” He continues, not fazed by you interrupting him.
“All those guys? You know about them?” You question.
“I guess. I mean after word got out about that shithead Elliot I did some asking,” he shrugs. You frown at the mention of Elliot.
“Whatever, they’re all in the past. No more guys for me,” you tell him.
“You shouldn’t give up entirely, these guys are stupid. There’s someone out there who deserves you, trust,” He assures you.
“Oh yeah? Tell me when you meet him,” You laugh.
“I think i know a guy, actually,” He responds, sitting up slightly.
“Oh yeah? Do tell.”
“Well, he’s tall, tan, and goddamn gorgeous. Has these soft brown curls, and I heard he’s the best swordsman at camp. Perfect for the best archer,” He explains to you, smiling.
“You seem to be fond of him, maybe you should go date him,” You joke.
“Nah, I think he likes this girl from Apollo. Kind, generous, beautiful, best healer and archer around,” He locks eyes with yours, darting between your eyes and your lips.
He holds your face in his hand, circling his thumb. His shirt rides up exposing his stomach and bandages.
“You like what you see?” He teases.
“You’re an idiot,” You smile.
“That seems to be your type,” he shrugs and knits his brows.
Before you can say another word he presses a kiss against your lips, moving them softly against yours. One of his hands stays on your neck while the other ventures down to your waist and then the chair you sat in. He pulls the chair closer to him and puts his hand back on your waist. You move one of your hands to his knee and the other to right beside him, leaning in closer.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” He’s whispers into the kiss.
You smile at him before pausing. “The bonfire’s almost over, maybe you should head back,” you say.
“Yeah probably,” he gives you one last hard kiss followed by another few pecks.
He stands up and steadys himself, the injury clearly still pains him. He starts to walk away but before he can leave he turns back to you and presses a few more kisses against you.
“Okay, I’m done. y’know for now,” he smirks.
“You’re welcome anytime,” You laugh and he leaves. He gives you two looks before exiting.
Maybe you’ll give this boy one more chance.
#pjo x you#luke castellan#luke pjo x reader#luke castellan x reader#pjo x reader#luke pjo#percy pjo#pjo series#pjo fandom#pjo#pjo tv show#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson and the olympians#luke castellan x you
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big bad wolf
f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut
#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡
a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3
3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation
“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.
The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.
“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”
“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.
“Really?” He questioned.
“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.
“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.
You raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.
“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.”
It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.
“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”
Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears.
All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.
“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.
“Yeah I get it.”
Silence settled.
“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.
A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.
“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.
“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…
“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.
“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again.
***
Well maybe you couldn’t…
That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds.
“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.
He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.
The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.
“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Um, yeah a little bit I think”
Lie. Big fat lie.
Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.
“Perfect! Let’s get started then”
“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.
“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.
Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.
Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.
He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs.
“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.
He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.
“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud.
“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”
Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.
He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.
“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs.
“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”
You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face.
“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.
“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours.
He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily.
“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”
As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.
“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board.
“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.
He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.
“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.
Thanks to Chris’ prepping, the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho.
Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.
“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.
“Ok” you huffed quietly.
You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared.
“You… can move”
Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in.
“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted.
“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.
He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines.
“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in.
“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”
“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”
“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.
“Fuck I won’t last long baby”
“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there”
Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.
“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg”
“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath.
You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you.
“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew.
“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.
“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.
“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it”
“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”
It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.
“Yeah we should”
“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”
“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.
“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.
“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.
“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.
“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.
“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.
“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.
3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation
a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3
#bangchan smut#bangchan#christopher bang#skz smut#skz#stray kids#stray kids smut#bangchan x reader#bangchan stray kids#bangchan x you#bangchan x y/n#bangchan x female reader#kpop smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#bangchan hard thoughts#bangchan hard hours
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Everything I Wanted I.
LESTAPPEN X READER (Part 1)
Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.
Word count: 7.1k
Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read
Relationships: Lestappen x Reader
Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader
Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader
Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. I know I said it was a oneshot, but the thing got out of hand, and I had to split it in half. Soon there will be a part 2! English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistake!
Find me on Twitter!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
“They’re not friends, you understand? They’re rivals, and that’s all they’ll ever be.”
You stand, hugging your helmet firmly against your chest, your dad’s words louder than the ringing in your ear from the way he slapped the side of your head. You were 9 and it was your first time competing in a karting competition. You tried to befriend the other kids your age, but as soon as your dad called you away, fuming, you knew it was a mistake.
You followed your dad’s orders, and didn’t talk to any of the boys again. Max was already cold towards you, so he pretty much ignored your existence. But Charles was more talkative, and as you stopped answering him, he became taunting, annoying, but you didn’t fall behind, you used to clap back at him with the same intensity.
Sometimes you eavesdropped on their conversations, initially it wasn’t intentional, but they were always complaining about you, calling you names, and you realized your dad was right, they would never see you as a friend or equal, only as a rival.
One day you’re walking by when you hear your name in their conversation.
“Nah, don’t worry about Y/N,” Max shrugged, his accent thick, as he pointed to the side of his temple “she’s a little slow, but maybe she’ll catch up.”
You stood there, his words echoing in your head, she’s a little slow, that was a kind way to call you stupid, which, compared to the way your father called you that many times, it was much sweeter. You shouldn’t have let that get to your head, specially said that way. But then again, you were 11, and you kept hearing those words again and again in your head. You never considered yourself dumb, your grades in school were average, and whenever you had time off of karting to study for your exams, your grades became even better, a little above average.
And despite knowing that, after going back home after the competition, you spent the whole Saturday at the local library, studying everything you could find on motorsports and Formula One. You lent books on strategy, history, and even mechanics. Every spare time you had, you spent reading those books, or lending others. You didn’t want to be slow as they had called you.
After that, you stopped talking to Max completely.
“This is a waste!” Your dad shouted, and you flinched, taking a discreet step back, away from him, trying to avoid him getting physical.
You had argued with him, which made him more furious. You tried to tell him it wasn’t your fault, you were just as good at racing as everyone else, maybe better, but no one was willing to give a girl a chance. It made him even angrier.
“You had one job! You get into F4 on your first try!”
You wanted to tell him it wasn’t your fault. That they weren’t willing to give a girl a chance, even if you were better than half of the boys who made it to F4. But your dad didn’t care about any of it, he wanted you to succeed or nothing. He used to always say that anything below first place is failure.
So he decided you, at 14, weren’t worth the money he spent on karting. And he simply left. Making peace with the fact that your dad never saw you as his kid, but more like an investment, was hard.
“You’re never going to be a Formula 1 champion.” Was the last thing he said to you, before dropping you at your mom’s to never come back.
Living with your mom ever since your dad gave you up was something else. She had lost everything after the divorce, thanks to a prenup she had naively signed without knowing anything about it. So when you moved in with her, you noticed how the house was smaller than your dad’s, you two slept in the single room that was there. Your mom worked two jobs living paycheck to paycheck, and you barely saw her. But she was kind, comforting.
You soon realized that she wouldn’t be able to provide for your karting career. So you lied, you told her your dad was still paying for the karting, and you found two part time jobs to pay for racing. You mom worked so much, she didn’t notice your absence in the afternoons, when you went to work in an auto repair shop. Sometimes, on the rare occasions she was off work in the afternoons, you lied and told her you were out with friends, or studying in the library or even doing extracurriculars. You had the best intentions, you used to tell yourself at night whenever you laid awake, you knew she would blame herself or even work herself to death to provide for you.
The entirety of the next year was a constant struggle, and you worked, and scrapped and lied your way through the entire karting competition. It was one of your last chances to get into F4, and you weren’t sure you could live another year that way, without a sponsor.
When the competition ended, you were second place overall. Your kart had problems during the race and you were sad that it affected your performance in a race you could’ve won.
You walked closer as you saw a few of the other boys gathering around some adults, you eyed them curiously. As soon as you noticed who they were, you swallowed. They were probably scouts, it was very common in finals of these competitions, you were used to it. You also were used to being ignored by all of them scouts. You had tried many times before to make connections and make yourself known, maybe even meeting a potential sponsor, but they always ignored you. They weren’t interested in a girl, they didn’t care about a woman in motorsports. Your only hope was that one day you would meet a female scout and she would see your potential.
But meanwhile, there were only men, and they didn’t give two fucks about you. So you didn’t even get close enough to join, you heard Charles and Max talking with them, and you just turned around, going back to your kart.
You pulled a few tools from your backpack, working to fix the difficulties you felt during the race.
“What are you doing?” A man approached you, crouching close to watch your work. You briefly looked up, the guy was wearing sunglasses and a cap, just a normal guy, looking like someone’s dad.
“I’m fixing my steering wheel, it was a bit stuck during the race so I had to double the force used to be able to make it work,” you explained, and he nodded.
“You finished second, right? Why are you here by yourself?” The man asked.
“The other kids don’t like me very much. And they’re talking to the scouts,” you shrugged, trying not to think about all the opportunities they would get and you wouldn’t.
“You should be there, no? Meeting scouts is important for your career.”
“They’re not very interested in a girl racer. Believe me, I know.” You muttered, finishing with the steering wheel, testing to see if it was working all right. You turned, fixing your left rear tyre. The tyre wasn’t responding very well to the braking, “besides, my kart won’t fix itself, right? Look, you see how this tyre is slower to respond to my braking? It messed up with my balance during the race. I could have won.”
“Shouldn’t you take your kart somewhere to get it fixed?” The man asked, helping you unscrew the tyre.
“Can’t afford it,” you said, “I’m saving to try and get into F4, so I can’t spare any money on this one.”
You weren’t usually this talkative with new people, mostly keeping to yourself. But maybe you were missing a grownup figure in your life since your dad had dipped and your mom was always busy. And that man sounded really interested in your stuff, so it felt natural explaining to him.
“So, no one sponsoring you?” He asked, which made you look at him again, hesitantly.
“No, uh, I had one but he dropped me last year” you said, leaving out that part that it was your dad.
“You know who I am?” The man asked and you looked at him, shaking your head.
“Someone’s dad? I mean, I haven’t been introduced to all the kids and their parents yet, but you’re kinda familiar, so-” As you were babbling and trying to explain, he took off the cap and sunglasses, and you immediately recognized him, “oh my god!”
“Shh, shh” he silenced you, putting the disguise back.
“You’re Kimi Raikkonen!” You whispered, and he nodded.
“I’ll be your new sponsor, eh? What do you say?”
"Just like that?"
"Just like that," he nodded.
"How do you know I'm good enough for a sponsorship?" You asked, genuinely curious.
"Well, are you good enough for a sponsorship?" He asked. He had been keeping an eye out at that very category, and you had caught his attention as seemingly smart and emotionally controlled with the kart.
"I'm the best of the bunch," you smiled at him and you won him over with that answer.
Kimi became your lifeline, in a way. His family was quick to embrace you in an affectionate way you would’ve never expected of them. They invited you for their little New Year’s party, and you eventually told everything about your life to Kimi. His wife Minttu had also taken you as one of her own and their kids liked you a lot.
Under Minttu’s suggestion, Kimi also enrolled you in language classes, so besides English, you spent the next years learning French and Spanish, and you also caught a little Finnish from being so close to them.
You kept pushing your way up from F4 to F3 and so on, but instead of climbing it steadily like the boys, you had to win two or three times more than them to prove you were worth taking the next step.
You were 16 when your paths crossed with the boys from your childhood again. They recognised you, but they never really talked to you, so they didn't this time around either.
Coming out of the bathroom you once again caught a conversation, and you stopped dead as soon as you heard your name.
“No, not really… I don’t see her like that at all- she’s- uh-” Charles was speaking, probably looking for the words in english, “-she’s more like one of the boys.”
You paused, your breath hitched.
“Yeah,” that was Max, “I don’t see her like that either. I guess she doesn’t care about the things girls her age do.”
You felt a lump in your throat, retreating back to the bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror, watching your face as the tears fell down on your cheeks. You were dressed in your regular racing day attire, cargo pants and a sweater. You didn’t wear makeup and your hair was all frizzy because of the helmet.
The next time you went to the Raikkonen residence, you pulled Minttu aside one moment.
“I want to be pretty. Will you help me?”
You two went through a long chat with Minttu reassuring you that you were pretty in your own way and you insisting you wanted to be pretty like other girls, more feminine and girly.
When you entered F2 after the winter break, you felt and looked like some better version of yourself. Minttu had helped you set a skincare routine that was already helping clear your face from teenage acne. She also took you to a hair salon, where you trimmed your hair and made a few highlights. She upgraded your wardrobe, and even if you tried to refuse saying it was too much, she said it was a Christmas gift and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Your path until reaching F1 was slow and steady, and you were a reserve driver for two years before finally getting a seat at McLaren. You knew Kimi probably had a hand in getting you a chance, but he denied every time you asked.
Kimi told you the raw truth before the season started. He and Minttu sat you down and talked about how the world and Formula 1 would expect more of you than of any other rookie. How they would stress your mistakes tenfold. How they would diminish your achievements with the same intensity. You weren’t afraid, really.
“I’ve lived with my greatest hater more than half of my life, I can handle strangers” you had laughed to the couple.
Still, Kimi taught you everything about his Iceman persona, and told you to pick whatever you wanted from it. Minttu also convinced you to start therapy, which you accepted.
The hate started as soon as you were announced. Beyond the regular misogyny, they were calling you too old to be a rookie at 24, they were questioning your abilities even with numerous championships from other categories to back you up, even with the fact that your mentor was Kimi fucking Raikkonen. But you didn’t let any of that get under your skin.
Sebastian Vettel was quickly drawn to you, and he became your first friend in Formula 1. He had been close with Kimi from the time they were teammates, and he kinda adopted you.
The guys your age didn’t want to get too close to you. The very few times they talked or walked with you, it sparked romance rumors, and soon they pretty much ignored or avoided you. You knew their intentions weren't to be mean, they were probably just avoiding problems with the media and their girlfriends or wives, but it didn’t hurt any less every time they walked straight past you.
One of those times you were going to the group press conference and all three of the guys walked past you as you tried to chat with them. Your shoulders slumped, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.
“What was that?” You jumped at the sound of another voice. You looked behind you to see Fernando Alonso walking up to you. Up until that point, he had been polite to you.
“Oh,” you stumbled over your words, “being seen talking to me is bad press, apparently.”
“Una tontería,” he muttered, shaking his head, which made you laugh, surprised. He put a friendly hand over your shoulder and led you to the media session.
Simples as that, Fernando too became your friend.
You asked your PR manager, Amanda, to bend a few rules to make sure you would always be at the press conference with Seb and Nando or at least one of them. Most of the time, you did. But sometimes you were unlucky and had to sit stiffly through rounds of absurdly odd (and downright misogynistic) questions by yourself.
Soon you gave up on befriending the other drivers and being charming to the media. You realized the Iceman persona of Kimi looked like a good way to protect yourself from the clutches of the motorsport world. By the sixth race of the year, you gained the Lioness nickname. An agile hunter in your driving style and just as fierce in your answers.
“You’re always seen more comfortable with either Sebastian or Fernando, who are way older than you” some reporter said, “why is that?”
“I believe we’re closer in maturity age,” you said, face expressionless. You heard snickers around the room and you looked to Fernando who was visibly holding a laugh.
“So you’re saying the other drivers are immature?” The reporter pressed, but you didn’t want to talk anymore.
“No,” it’s all you answered, putting your mic down.
Everyone already thought you were arrogant, selfish, and superficial, and as you embraced your cold persona, you just fed into their assumptions. You couldn't care less, it was a good way to protect yourself, to be distant from the media who were constantly trying to drag you to the dirt.
“You mentioned the other day that you believe you should’ve joined F1 around the time the guys your age did. Why do you think that didn’t happen?”
“Because of what’s between my legs, Brian” you deadpanned.
You had to prove yourself two or three times more than the boys every single step of the way, to get into F4, F3, F2 and now F1. You made it, you were there, between the 20 best of motorsport in the whole world… and still… Still you had to hear questions about how you managed to race with a period, questions about boyfriends, questions about hair care or skin care, or whatever. You wouldn’t mind any of that if those were common questions, if they were asked of every driver, but they were only asked of you.
“I would like to express that, from now on, I will only answer questions that would be asked of the male drivers too, about the sport, about the cars, about strategies and everything that revolves around racing,” you warned one day before the end of a media conference when someone asked if your PMS interfered in your racing.
You started to not give two fucks about the media. Every time someone asked you a misogynistic question you just stared at them and put your mic down. So those types of question died down a little bit.
“Do you think you would’ve already been world champion had you entered Formula 1 earlier, let’s say at age 19/20?”
“Yes.”
Most of the guys ignored or avoided you, but your path always clashed with Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. They always hinted at not liking you in the slightest, and the media and the fans started catching up to it, throughout your rookie year. They would shamelessly shade you, and you never backed down, giving it as hard as you got.
You walked to a reporter, still using a towel to dry your face at the post race interview.
“Did you hear what Leclerc said about your move as you left the pits?” The man asked you.
“No, I didn’t. Do I look like I care about a man’s opinion?” You said, loud and clear.
You got as many fans as you got haters, especially as you messed with Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s loud fanbases. It wasn’t really on purpose, but one of them would usually jab at you in interviews, and when word got back to you, it would anger you to no end, and you would shade them back, and in an insane amount of back-and-forths until your rivalry was in articles, the news, twitter threads, and in the mind of every single reporter in a race week.
“Verstappen talked about your overtake at lap 49, he said it was a dirty move.”
“Like he did to me back in Silverstone?” Your eyes held a mischievous glint as you scoffed, “Funny, you didn’t see me whining about it back then.”
You had the best rookie year ever since Lewis Hamilton debuted. You almost reached the same overall numbers as him, getting six podiums and your first ever Formula 1 victory. You finished the driver’s championship in fifth place, over older drivers that were literal champions of the world.
The first time Lewis Hamilton really engaged in conversation with you was during the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony by the end of the season. You were proudly smiling, holding your Rookie of the Year trophy. He had been polite to you before, but he always looked unattainable, in a way. He was beyond the world of Formula 1.
“Congratulations!” He smiled at you, sitting by your side. Your heart thrumming in your chest, trying not to fangirl too much. Sometimes it was unbelievable sharing casual conversation with legends you grew up admiring from afar.
“Thank you, Lewis. Congratulations on the championship!” You said.
“I’m sorry for not realizing most of the boys were excluding you. I chatted about it with Seb, and he told me your only friends are him and Fernando.” Lewis whispered, looking genuine, “I guess I was so focused on the championship that I didn’t bother to check on you. I’m sorry, really.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you raised your trophy, “I made it, right?”
“Succeeding despite the adversities… I see traits of a champion in you, congratulations” Lewis got up, raising his flute in a toast for you, “see you around, Lioness!”
Soon the next season you realized you had a competitive car. More than the year before. As for the first few races of the season, you had a win and podiums, which put you as a contender for the driver’s championship. Unfortunately the other people competing closely with you were none other than Charles and Max. Your rivalry had died down a bit when they noticed that you only shaded them when they provoked you first. So as their jabs became few and far between, it meant your clap backs did too.
The season was as good as it could get, that is until Monza.
You had felt the problems braking specifically during qualifying and your team tried to fix it but there wasn’t much anyone could do due to parc fermé. So you spent part of the night before the race working with your strategist to find a way around your braking problems and the best way to preserve your tyres.
The data had shown it would take a bit more strength to brake, which would eat up at your tyres quicker than usual, but other than that, everything seemed normal.
You all were wrong.
As the race went on, your brakes got progressively worse, to the point that curves were taking your body strength so much you could feel your muscles sore.
“We are considering retiring the car,” Jace, your engineer said. You inhaled, trying to calm down.
You were barely holding your P5, when you saw a Red Bull approaching you. You weren’t in position to fight, so he overtook you turning in a chicane. But your brakes didn’t work as you tried to slow down behind Max’s car, you tried not going into him but your tyres locked as you tried to avoid his rear. You drove straight into his rear, making the two of you lose control of your car. You braced for impact against the wall but luckily the gravel slowed you enough that you just touched the barrier.
After checking with your engineer, you left the car and saw Max leaving his, both DNFs.
You knew of your fame of being a reckless driver, often known for risky maneuvers and overtakes, but you never dove into someone intentionally because you knew trying to take someone out would mean yourself getting taken out too. As a marshal took you back to the garage on a motorcycle, you were ready to swallow your pride and apologize to Max for accidentally taking him out.
But as soon as you stepped down from the motorcycle, Max was in your space. His face was red and his hair all sweaty and disheveled, when he fronted you, chest to chest. You knew there were dozens of cameras pointed to you, so you tried to diffuse the tension for once.
“Are you insane?! Why did you drive into me?!” He kept advancing and for each of his steps ahead, you took one back to try and explain. But he didn’t give you a second screaming all kinds of curses and blame, “you should’ve never made it to Formula 1!”
His words were like a slap to the face, and you stopped trying to apologize or explain. You put both hands to your back, inflating your chest to face him.
“You don’t get to fucking decide that! You dipshit! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You said to his face, that’s when someone from the RedBull garage ran closer and stood between you.
You watched as he was taken away from you and inside his garage. At the same time your PT found you and walked you back to McLaren.
Changing from your race suit, you tried to cool down before going to the media. You gulped down your water as you watched Charles leading the race, and getting closer to the championship than you.
“There was an altercation between you and Max Verstappen, can you comment on that?”
“He was visibly upset with the racing incident.” It was all you said, after chatting with your PR manager before stepping out to chat with the journalists.
“And what happened at that incident? Can you walk us through it?”
“Yes, uh, we’ve been feeling something wrong with our braking system since yesterday. The data showed us it would require me to be more forceful during braking, which seemed feasible. But the brakes were wearing off during the race and we were about to retire when I completely lost the brakes. I really tried to avoid him but my tyres locked and I ended up hitting Verstappen.”
“Are you sure this accident has nothing to do with the ongoing rivalry between the two of you?” You got offended by the reporter's words.
“Of course! I would never intentionally do something to put myself or other drivers at risk. I have all the data to back me up and anyone can check my onboard.”
The FIA investigated your altercation with Max, and you ended up getting an unsportsmanlike behavior penalty. Two points in your super license.
“What the fuck?! Why the fuck would I be punished for that! There are fourteen different angles from that argument and all of them show how Verstappen aggressively came on to me first!”
It got worse when you heard that only you had gotten a penalty and Max didn’t even get a reprimand.
Everyone close to you noticed how you were on edge next week. During media day your answers were short, dry, and every single journalist seemed to want to talk about the penalty.
“Yes, I do have opinions on my penalty. But no, I won’t talk about it, only the FIA’s opinion is relevant” Your words during the press conference were enough to express a little dissatisfaction and to put an end to those questions. Everyone was surprised at the fact you chose to be quiet about the whole ordeal, they were all expecting your complaints and harsh words.
When you went back to your driver’s room, you went straight to lay your head on your mom’s lap, feeling a bit down. You stayed quiet as she ran her hands through your hair softly untangling it. She knew you were upset and why, so none of you bother to voice anything, bashing in the comforting silence.
The best thing about Formula 1 was being able to retire your mom from working, now you didn’t have to worry about her burning out and she didn’t have to worry about bills or mortgage or debts. Now she had a new, bigger and better house, everything was paid for and you even gave her a credit card for hobbies or whatever she wanted. She sometimes went to the races, but she usually stayed at home, relaxing.
“I know things are hard right now,” you mom started, her voice soft, caring, “but I know you can do it, honey. You’ve faced pushback since the beginning of this dream, but you always came out on top.”
“Thank you for believing in me.”
“You will be a world champion, honey. I know it.” She smiled down at you.
You sat up as your mom removed her watch, handing it to you.
“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I feel like this is the right moment,” she turned the watch, showing you the inscription that read strong woman, and you felt your eyes water, “this was my grandma’s. She gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, and now it’s yours.”
That week you got a victory, raising your P1 trophy for your mom, who was watching you with a hand on her heart, crying happy tears.
As the season progressed the championship became even tighter between the three of you. Mere points set the three of you apart, and with each week result, the P1, P2 and P3 shifted between you. It had become one of the most competitive seasons in the sport.
When the third to last race came in Qatar, you were P3 in the championship, and you needed at least P4 in that race to keep fighting for the championship. You didn’t care about anything other than getting a podium, focused on your racing mindset, no distractions. If you only got that win, it would mean getting back that P1 in the championship and you would go down in history.
You were P3 after your last pitstop of the race, you had a small window of time to take advantage of being with new mediums while everyone else was with old softs. You had to pull ahead and open at least ten seconds, so you could become first when Max went to the pits. You had the perfect opportunity for an undercut.
That was until you overtook Charles’ Ferrari for P2. You passed him easily, he hadn’t gone to the pits yet, so he had old tyres. But you frowned as Jace warned you about Leclerc trying to take the position back. He couldn’t fight against your new tyres, everyone knew that. You accelerated to open a distance, but as you went fast into turn 4, you only felt the hit to your side, making you lose control of the car.
It was barely a few seconds that you couldn’t wrap your head around, so shocked you couldn’t brake, only feeling your stomach churn as you braced for impact. The second hit came against the barriers even harder than the first, it shook your whole body, leaving you dizzy and out of breath.
You talked with Jace, telling him in a shaky voice that you were okay but out of breath, and you unlocked your seatbelts with trembling hands. After removing your steering wheel, you tried to get up but you were dizzy and your legs felt like jelly. A marshal helped you out of the car, but as soon as your feet were on the ground, you stumbled to your knees. The nausea got the best of you and you puked against your balaclava and inside the helmet. The marshals made a small shield around you, as one of them helped you remove the helmet and balaclava, still dry heaving. The marshal gave you a towel, and you cleaned the best you could as the ambulance was coming.
You looked behind you to your destroyed car.
And just like that, you had lost any chance at the championship.
You held your tears as you went through the medical procedures and examinations. The world had been muted in the background and you could only hear the noise of the crash, visualizing your ruined car, and your dreams being crushed once again.
But as you came back to the hospitality, you found your mom, and sobbed quietly against her chest.
“It’s ok, honey. It’s okay,” her voice was so soothing and the pain meds were working, so you cried yourself to sleep while she held you.
Later that day, you watched the replay of your crash. Leclerc had gone way too close to you, but in turn 4 he hit the curbs and lost control, hitting your car right in the middle, full force. Your car had spun out a lot then hit the barriers. It was lucky that you had come out of the crash relatively unharmed, it was ugly and could’ve been a lot worse, from the way you spun and the G force your car hit the barrier with.
“You’re still watching that?” Your mom’s voice sounded in the middle of the night.
“He shouldn’t have tried to fight for the position back, he didn’t even have enough tyres for that! And he was way too close, look!”
Your mom closed your laptop, putting it on the coffee table. She took your hands in hers and smiled gently.
“I’m sorry about the championship. But I’m glad you’re okay, that was one of the scariest couple of seconds of my entire life,” she whispered, teary eyed.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, ashamed that it didn’t cross your mind how worried she might have been.
“It’s okay, honey. There’s always next year, I’m sure you will be world champion. And will be there cheering for you.”
The next week in Jeddah, you felt like the world was out to get you when they put you in the press conference with both Max and Charles, as well as Lewis and Sebastian.
“Y/N, how are you feeling after last week’s crash? It looked pretty bad.” Someone asked.
“I am doing ok, thank you,” that’s all you said into the mic.
“Unfortunately, the crash ultimately took you out of the championship, what do you say about that?”
You were so tired of that question, so tired of your PR manager talking in your head about not blaming Charles publicly, despiste your desire to scream to whoever may hear that the monegasque just wanted to take you out of the competition, so he could fight only Verstappen for the championship. You just wanted the season to be over, in all honesty.
“There’s always next year, right?” You echoed your mom's words, that were also your rehearsed answer. You looked to the side, feeling Sebastian’s hand softly on your forearm, a silent show of support.
You left as soon as it was over. You knew Charles had been trying to talk to you. You supposed it was to apologize, but you weren’t having it. You were still so angry at him that you worried you’d punch him as soon as he was in your face. So you just avoided him like the plague. You didn’t want to see him, and you couldn’t afford another punishment if you acted on your anger.
“Charles has been looking for you,” Sebastian said, walking up to you as you were finishing braiding your hair for the race.
“I have been avoiding him,” you said, not looking at Seb, still focusing on your braids.
“He just wants to apologize.”
“And I want to punch him in the face, so what? We can’t always get what we want” You clenched your jaw, using an elastic band to finish.
“Y/N…” Sebastian sounded tired.
“Don’t Y/N me. I just want this season to be over, ok? The championship was in my reach, and now it’s not. And it wasn’t even my own fault. So no, I won’t see him.”
Sebastian didn’t say anything as he walked to you and pulled you in an affectionate hug that made you want to cry again.
During the driver’s parade, Fernando acted almost as a guard dog, not letting anyone close to you. You talked with him and Lewis about the crash, explaining how it felt to you.
When the season ended, you got a third place trophy during the Prize Giving Ceremony. You remembered your dad’s words throughout the entire night. Coming down from the stage, and you met with Minttu and Kimi, they congratulated you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. You looked at Charles on the stage with his P2 trophy.
“Anything other than the first is failure, right?” You sighed, eyes glued to the stage, where Max got the trophy of Champion of the World.
“What crap is that?” Kimi said, suddenly.
“My dad used to say that when I was a kid.”
“Well he was an asshole,” Kimi said matter-of-factly, “and he never made it to F1. He didn’t even make it to F4, he has no reason or power to get in your head. You were just a kid. You understand?”
“Yes, Kimi," you swallowed, feeling some kind of wheight being lifted from your shoulders. Kimi had done many great things for your life with very few words, and his succint way of being was great to pull you back to the present whenever you anxiety got the best of you.
You ended up getting the Personality of the Year award too, which was such a surprise that it worked wonders to lift your spirits and to end the season with a sweet note.
Even being in a better mood, you didn’t stay at the party too late, saying your farewell to your friends as you dropped Kimi and his wife at the hotel. You were removing your makeup after a shower when there was a knock on your hotel room door. Thinking it was an emergency, you rushed only to be faced with Charles Leclerc.
“What are you doing here?” You looked around the hall, confused.
“Can I talk to you?” Charles was still dressed in his formal attire, black tie. He fiddled with his fingers as you let him in, afraid someone might see him at your door.
“What?” You crossed your arms as you closed the door.
“I’m really sorry about the crash in Qatar,” he waited for your answer with bated breath.
“Can we have this conversation when next season starts?” You proposed. You knew you weren’t ready for that talk yet, too much anger was still clouding your judgment for a level-headed talk.
“It wasn’t my intention to take you out-” He started but you cut him off.
“Look, you’ve never liked me, I’m aware, and you cost me an entire championship, so I don’t know if I believe you.”
“It really wasn’t intentional, the accident cost me the championship as well,” you could see in his eyes that his patience was wearing thin. But so did yours.
“No it didn’t. You still had a chance even after that DNF, you just didn’t win anyway,” your anger simmered again, making you raise your voice.
“Fuck you! You treat me like this because you always felt like you were better than everyone-”
“I treat you like this?! Be fucking for real, Charles! You hate me so much you took my chance at the championship away!”
“If you had more wins during the season maybe this wouldn’t be a problem right now!”
“Unbelievable! Because you are so much better than me, all you got was second place!”
“Shut up.”
“You’ve always hated me for absolutely no reason-”
“Shut up.”
“And now you think you can barge into my room and tell me you think I’m a shitty driver? I’m not standing for-”
“Shut up!” He shouted, which was so surprising you actually stopped talking.
The both of you were breathing heavily, in one second you were sure you could strangle him, in the next, his lips were against yours and his hand gripping your hair. The kiss was nasty, all teeth and lips and tongue, his hands going down your body, pressing you into him, and your fingers tugging at his suit, ripping the buttons. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Charles’ lips found your neck and he bit into your pulse point.
“Fuck you, Charles” you said, breathless, opening his trousers and he ripped your little sleep top with his bare hands.
It was so hot as you stumbled backwards and he followed you, tossing your top behind him, you took off his shirt and undershirt and he helped you kick out your shorts.
Charles pressed you against the wall, kissing you aggressively again, and you moaned as he placed his thigh between your legs, and you ground against him, turned on, dampening his trousers with the wet of your panties. You pressed your hand against his bulge, and he groaned, pressing into you even harder, humping like horny teenagers.
You didn’t even bother to get him naked, with his trousers half undone, you just pulled his cock out, heavy in your hands. You watched his pained expression as you spit on your hand so you could masturbate him.
“Fuck it,” you moaned, knowing grinding on him was not nearly enough.
You pulled your panties to the side, and lined his cock up into you. It was so tight as he slid into you, that your eyes rolled in pleasure, and he raised one of your legs against his waist to make room for his hips. He pulled back and snapped his hips into you again, his cock stretching you so good you were shaking. You put one arm around his shoulders holding on him and the other hand you held his ass under his loose trousers, your nails biting into his flesh as you pushed him even deeper.
“Fuck, ah-” he moaned in your ear, “so hot- putain-”
The loud, wet sounds of his hips pistoning into you were obscene. You angrily bit him, his shoulders, his chest, his jaw and he went even harder, your back hitting the wall behind you, and you pulled his hair, sweat starting to form all over your body.
“Fuck, Charles!” Your moans got even louder, and Charles stuck two fingers into your mouth, muffling your sounds as he fucked you.
He was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and it was enough for you to know you would come that way. You slapped his cheek, taking out some of your anger and he groaned, going harder. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and held your neck, pressing your torso against the wall and choking you a little bit.
“I can’t hold much longer” he warned you between gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking you.
You pinched your own nipples and it didn’t take long for you to come, your cunt clenching so hard around him, it was enough to send him over the edge too.
Shaking, the two of you slid to the floor, breathlessly lying down, half naked and sweaty.
None of you said a word.
When he was ready to go again, he put you on your knees, your torso against the mattress, and he pounded into your cunt mercilessly from behind.
The third and last time was lazy, slow missionary and he held your wrists above your head with one hand, pressed your clit with the other, sucked a few hickeys around your tits and his cock pressed over and over your g-spot.
When you woke up the next morning, Charles was still asleep by your side. You went into the bathroom and showered, hoping he would catch the hint and leave. But as you came out showered and dressed, he was still out cold. So you quietly packed your bag and left for the airport.
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#lestappen x reader#lestappen#Spotify
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CRUSH (ushijima wakatoshi x reader)
summary: wakatoshi has a crush.
word count: 720
warnings: fem!reader, its all just fluff
tags: @keiva1000
Ushijima knows he has fans. He might be simple-minded and a little oblivious, but he’s not stupid.
He knows girls stare at him from the balcony during practice. And he can hear their giggling when he passes them in the halls. Tendou often calls him Shiratorizawa’s Golden Boy, which Ushijima wholeheartedly disagrees with, but never voices out loud. Tendou often says strange things. He doesn’t mind.
Ushijima doesn’t understand his popularity. Sure, he is a good player. The best ace in the prefecture. But most of these girls have no understanding of volleyball. So why are they spending hours upon hours in the stands, watching him play?
“They’re not watching the match, Wakatoshi-kun. They are watching you.”
Hm. Strange. His play is very consistent. Watching him do the same thing over and over has to get boring, especially when they aren’t watching for the sake of the game.
But then he sees you for the first time.
You are in his third year English class. In his three years of high school, Ushijima is sure he has never seen you before. Because if he had, there was no way he would forget you.
He is curious. And a little enamored by you.
You are, by all means, a regular girl. You sit on the same chair every day, bring your own bento instead of eating from the cafeteria. It is always wrapped in a pretty multicolored patterned cloth, done up in a knot on top. You have a small stuffed cat chain on the zipper of your backpack. And you wear your hair differently every day. Some days it is tied up, some days it is let down. And some days it is half-up and half-down. You have one pink bunny hairclip that you wear maybe once every two or three days that Ushijima thinks is very cute. Your uniform is always immaculate.
There are so many tiny details about you that Ushijima has learned, and he finally understands why girls would stay hanging over the gym balcony to watch him for hours, because he could watch you for hours too.
You are very smart, he could tell. You always answer correctly when the teacher would call on you, and he has glimpsed at your notes. Simple, but neat and easy to understand, just the way he likes it. There are no crazy colors and highlighters, and your handwriting is neat and beautiful, just like the rest of you.
You are also quiet. You have a select group of friends that you talk to, and while you are nice to anyone who interacts with you, you don't go out of your way to stand out. Again, Ushijima loves that. It seems he loved everything about you. All the minor details that make you a little bit more unique to everyone else.
When you show up at his game, he nearly loses his focus.
It in’t an important game by any means, just a practice match with another local university team. So why are you here? Have your friends dragged you along? Or are you here by your own volition? Ushijima feels how sweaty his palms are when he clenches his fists, and it surprises him.
Is he….. nervous?
Why? Because you are watching? How ridiculous. Ushijima has never once doubted his own strength, or his ability to win. How could your presence alter that? The thought annoys him, and he is determined to prove that you being here would not be a hindrance to his play.
Turns out, he needn't have worried. It seems your presence had sharpened his senses more than ever. Shiratorizawa won in straight sets, and of the 50 points they scored, 39 had been from Ushijima’s hand.
“You were on fire today, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou comments as the final whistle rings. Ushijima unintentionally glances at you in the stands, cheering for the team. Cheering for him.
His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he doesn’t think it is because of the game he had just played. He hears Tendou let out a dreamy sigh.
“Ah, the miracles of having a crush.”
He feels his lips tick up in a tiny smile as he throws a towel over his shoulders. Tendou is wrong. Ushijima doesn’t think he has a crush.
He thinks he is in love.
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rules 𐙚 sungchan ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
warnings. best friend!sungchan, protected sex, unprotected sex, some mentions of oral (m receiving), mentions of masturbation, porn with plot.
wc. 7.7k
summary. you and your best friend sungchan end up having sex, but not without setting some rules first.
you felt your head spin as you looked down at sungchan beneath you, his chest raising rapidly against your hands as you sank down on his cock again, repeating the pace you had set a few moments prior. there was already a sheet of sweat covering his toned body, strands of his fringe sticking to his forehead as the rest of his hair stuck up messily from the way you were pulling on it earlier on.
despite how physically pleasuring the situation was, both on your body and your eyes, you still found yourself in disbelief of the position the two of you were in. sungchan was your best friend, he had been for over a decade. you grew up together, did everything together. pretty much every friend you both had was because of the other one, everyone knew you two as a pair.
you shared intimacy, spent nights together where you laughed and fell asleep leaning against one another, sungchan comforted you with his big arms and a slightly oversized tub of ice cream after your first break up and you done the same back after he failed his driving test - three times over. yet, your shared intimacy never went past anything platonic, it had simply never occurred between the two of you. until a few weeks ago that is.
it was normal for your friends to eventually meet sungchan, and it wasn’t that uncommon for them to find him attractive. you were used to the hushed whispers into your ear about how tall and handsome he was, whispers that you always replied to with an eye roll and a playful suck of your teeth. you knew sungchan was handsome, but it wasn’t something you ever paid too much attention to. you had no reason to. but your friends always did.
sungchan always gave the same response when you told him about your friends lusting over him, he laughed and brushed it off, not wishing to entertain your friends or feed into their desires.
“are you sure you’re not celibate?”
“fuck no” sungchan was absolutely not celibate, your friends just didn’t do it for him. you couldn’t have guessed who did even if you tried, and you did try.
“what about giselle?”
“no”
“mimi?”
“no”
“wonbin?”
“maybe” you hummed tilting your head to the side and looking towards the boy you mentioned who was sat across at the room at the bar.
“i don’t blame you”
“what?” sungchan’s voice took you out of your trance, you looked over at him and smiled.
“he’s cute but you couldn’t pay me to get with one of your friends” he began to argue but stopped himself, he didn’t want you to get with one of them either.
“why do you question me so much about me not wanting to get with your friends?”
“they’re all pretty girls and well, you’re a man” sungchan shook his head and laughed.
“yeah a man who doesn’t want to sleep around and end up with an std, plus my sexual interest is elsewhere” you cocked your head to the head and narrowed your eyes, about to question him once again but being stopped by your name being called from a few metres away.
sungchan would not admit to you that his sexual interest lay with you, sungchan thought you were insanely beautiful. irresistible. he would sell a piece of his soul just to be able to explore your body from head to toe, he’d worship every inch of you and make sure he makes you cum harder than anyone else ever has or ever will. sungchan adored you and had far too much respect for you to ever use you for sex or hurt you in anyway, so he kept his desires to himself, always finding it hilarious when you told him about your friends wishes to get close to him because he knew none of you were aware that whilst they were after him, he was laying in bed at night with his hand wrapped around his cock and you filling his brain. sungchan was certain he knows exactly how you’d moan, he’s pretty much perfected the fantasy in his head.
each time you told him about one of your friends, sungchan entertained the thought in his head but it always faded quickly, he was too awestruck over you. sungchan felt pussy drunk without ever even fucking you. he was sure things would get better if he just had you once, but he never felt like it was something he should bring upm not wanting to cause any discomfort or awkwardness in your friendship. the last time one of your friends showed interest in sungchan and he shot them down he promised himself he’d at least try with the next one, just to see if he could get his mind to focus on something that wasn’t you, he didn’t think it would work but he was sure it wouldn’t hurt to try.
that’s when sungchan met yujin, that very night that you were questioning him about being celibate. sungchan wasn’t blind, yujin was gorgeous but she was suffering the same fate that the rest of your friends did, she wasn’t you. sungchan could have hit himself for thinking it right away without even attempting to get to know her, so he gave it a chance. later that night
when you messaged sungchan saying yujin thought he was cute, he entertained it, told you it was okay for you to pass along his number to her and he actually spoke to her. he still found you creeping into his thoughts when he wrapped his hand around his cock that night, but that was just a work in progress, he was sure he would get past it once he spoke to her more.
he didn’t.
despite speaking to yujin none stop, her always being the second contact in his messaging app; you being the first due to your chat being pinned, sungchan still spent every single night thinking about you. he’d end phone calls with yujin and lay in bed to fall asleep and begin to think about you, how pretty you must look laying in your own bed right now and how soaked you’d be if you were touching yourself too. sungchan would give anything to have even the smallest taste of you on his tongue. he was beginning to think he really was a perv.
it took sungchan around two weeks to ask yujin to go out with him, he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t concerned about going out with her and being completely uninterested in her due to his thoughts being preoccupied with you. yet he still went along with it, at least he knew not to be surprised if he was right about his concerns. unsurprisingly to sungchan, he had every right to be concerned.
when he walked into the bar, the same bar he first met yujin at, he spotted her right away. it almost pained him that she was sat in the booth the two of you were in a few weeks before. yujin looked beautiful, and sungchan made sure to tell her the moment he greeted her with a hand barely touching her waist and a small kiss against her cheek.
sungchan listened to yujin attentively, allowing her to talk about what she wished whilst he nodded and added on his own comments every so often. he showed interest in her and made her feel as if he wanted to be there, the only thing was that whilst he physically was there, his mind was miles away. she mentioned your name a few times, smiling as she did, sungchan could tell she was fond of you. it made him feel guilty that he spent their entire date thinking of the way your shirt rode up your stomach earlier on during that day.
when yujin’s fingers touched his arm, sungchan thought about the way your skin felt against his, when she leaned against him he thought about how you unintentionally bury your head in his neck and whine when you’re napping next to him. sungchan was truly mind fucked. maybe the only way he could get out of this rut was to confront it head on, and doing that would mean confessing to you that he’s spent the last year and a half fantasising about fucking you every night and how he can’t even look at another girl without imagining you beneath him instead. so he acted oblivious to the hints yujin was dropping about him returning to her house with her for the night bidded her goodbye, not leaving until she was safe inside of her uber home. once she was, sungchan made his way to yours.
sungchan could freely admit that he wasn’t the smartest person in the world, he had his slightly more dense moments and showing up at your home unannounced at 11pm on a friday night was definitely one of them. he hadn’t planned how what he was going to say to you, telling you he couldn’t date anyone because he was too obsessed with the idea of having sex with you seemed too forward, and completely inappropriate.
he had no plan in his head when he knocked on your front door and even if he did, it would have slipped from his mind the moment you opened your door.
“sungchan?”
“is that my shirt?” you looked down at the oversized shirt that adorned your body.
“yes” that factor made everything seem one hundred times worse for sungchan. you stepped aside to allow him to enter your house, shutting the door behind him once he stepped inside “what are you doing here so late? didn’t you have a date with yujin?”
“that’s why i’m here” you cocked your head to the side, locking your front door before walking into your living room, sungchan sat down beside you before turning to you.
“are you okay?” you could feel the stress radiating off of him, he wasn’t as good at masking his emotions as he thought he was.
“i just wanted to talk to you abut something” sungchan felt his hands dampen, sweat forming as he clasped them together. you watched him intently, wondering what could be so important that hed show up at your house so late at night completely unannounced. sungchan shifted himself a few times, having already felt his cock pressing against his thigh due to the clothing you were wearing “i wanted to talk to you about me going on a date with your friend, and why i kept rejecting your other friends. you nodded, leaning back against the sofa. sungchan’s eyes darted to the way his shirt rode up your thigh, exposing more of your skin to him.
“finally”
“yujin is really sweet, i had a nice time with her tonight and i’ve enjoyed getting to know her and i do think maybe something could happen between the two of us but not right now”
“why not?” because i desperately want to have sex with you?
“because i feel like my, sexual intentions, are with someone else and i can’t seem to get them away from. that person” you hummed at him, leg crossing over the other as you looked at him. sungchan seemed to be in genuinely agony over this.
“have you had sex with them?”
“no”
“do they know you want to have sex with them?”
“no?”
“the only thing i can suggest is bringing it up to them, maybe if you talk to them and the two of you agree to it, you can just fuck it out of your system” you paused for a second, sungchan had spent a little too long staring down at his hands “who is it?” he looked at you, within seconds you could feel read the guilt on his face. you felt your eyes widen and sungchan panicked, quickly realising that you had caught on “you’re serious?”
“yeah” he breathed out, worried about how you would react.
“how the hell did that happen?”
“i don’t know it just, happened” sungchan felt his life flash before his eyes, he could have just ruined his entire friendship with you because he couldn’t stop himself from thinking with his dick “please don’t hate me i know it’s stupid and i know i shouldn’t think those things about you but it just happened and i promise i didn’t mean for it to”
“i don’t hate you” you laughed at the worry in his voice, narrowing your eyes at him “it just took me by surprise i never expected you to want to fuck me sungchan, we’ve known eachother for so long it never crossed my mind” he parted his lips to speak but stopped himself when you continued “i’m not against the idea of having sex with you sungchan, but i don’t think we should do it tonight” sungchan felt his cock throb beneath his briefs, he gulped again “i need time to prepare at least, let me sit on it for a few days and i’ll get back to you, okay?”
“take as long as you need” he breathed out.
“do you want to stay over? it’s getting late and i don’t mind”
“i should head home, i think i’ll sleep better there tonight” there was an uncomfortable look on his face as he stood up, you held back a laugh as you realised why he was acting so awkward. you opted against saying anything, to him, not wanting him to feel worse than he already did. sungchan left your home already knowing what he was going to do the moment he reached his house and he was grateful that it wasn’t too far away, the way his cock was throbbing in his pants was becoming almost painful to deal with. sungchan unapologetically jerked off before bed that night, he took a shower the moment he got home and found his hand wrapped around leaking cock immediately. he tugged at himself his other hand resting flat against the wall as the hot water ran over his body, he groaned as he brought himself closer to the edge. his eyes shut as images of you filled his mind, he would’ve given anything to take you in his shirt, to bend you over your kitchen counter and fuck you whilst you desperately cried out his name and told him how good he felt inside of you. he wanted to be the reason you’d be shaking and crying as you came and he was determined to be.
the following few days were a daze for sungchan, he knew you technically hadn’t said yes yet and he would respect you if you decided that you didn’t want to do it. but he was in agony waiting for your response, he didn’t bring it up to you, he waited for you to bring it up to him and he almost wet himself the moment you messaged him about it.
you can come over if you want tonight, we can talk about it and set some ground rules. i also brought something pretty to wear ehe.
sungchan was incredibly quick to respond, all shame left his body the moment he saw your message. you audibly laughed to yourself at how quickly you received his response, your fingers locking your phone as you dropped it beside your body.
you had found the past few days to be enlightening for you, your feelings toward sungchan shifted slightly the more you thought about him. prior to the conversation you had with sungchan, you hadn’t thought much about him physically. he was incredibly handsome, you’d experienced first hand watching him grow into his features and develop his physical maturity, you’d spent countless days watching him work out and even more days watching him do stupid shit that he always gets embarrassed over. your relationship with sungchan was something you cherished and you couldn’t deny your worries that came with the possibility of ruining that.
yet, you continued to entertain the thought of falling into bed with him. the more you thought about it, the more you craved to experience it, even if it did only happen once. sungchan seemed desperate to have you, the fact he couldn’t look at another girl in that way without thinking about you instead left a taste in your mouth. you found yourself unfathomably horny over the fact he was so set on you, you could barely imagine the amount of times he must’ve gotten off to you and that made it worse for you. it wasn’t kind of you to leave him sitting on it for a few days, considering you made your decision rather quickly, but you wanted to wait until you were completely sure and at this point you were sure that you were.
the wait for sungchan to turn up to your home later into the night felt longer that needed, once he messaged you saying he was on his way you were sat on your sofa, feet tapping against the floor and your fingers fiddling with one another. you weren’t sure why you had become so nervous to see him, but your heart seemingly fell to your stomach the moment he knocked on your front door.
you smiled at him as you opened the door, sungchan instantly took in the fact you were wearing his shirt again. he wondered how the last few days were for you, if you’d laid down and touched yourself whilst wearing it. sungchan was embarrassingly worked up without even stepping foot into your house. you led him to your bedroom rather than your living room, it was a place sungchan had been in countless times before, he’d fallen asleep in your bed just as many times as he’d fallen asleep in hs own, but something about it was more nerve inducing this time around. he watched as you sat on the edge of your bed, inviting him to sit beside you. he closed your bedroom door behind him and ran his hand through his hair before taking a seat next to you.
“i thought about it really hard over the past few days because i really don’t want this to cause anything bad in our friendship and i’d hate for things to be weird between us” sungchan took in the fact you seemed just as nervous as he was, your eyes trained solely on your fingers that sat in your lap “but ultimately i decided i think it would be okay for the two of us to, well, have sex. but i want to set down some rules just so theres no awkwardness or anything” sungchan nodded as you spoke, smiling gently to you when you finally looked up at him.
“i had a few things too, but you can go first”
“honestly my main rule is that there has to be protection involved but i kind of forgot to tell you that so i brought some condoms earlier today”
“i brought some with me”
“the other ones i had was that we shouldn’t kiss, we shouldn’t use each others names and i don’t think we should make eye contact” sungchan had to agree, especially with the latter. he’d spent far too long imagining how you’d look whilst taking his cock and he feared actually seeing your face when you do would destroy him as a person, inside and out “is there anything you’d like to add?”
“there is something, but it’s not really a rule?” you looked at him, curiosity in your eyes.
“what is it?” sungchan tried to ignore how gentle your tone was as you spoke to him. the softness of your voice seemed almost sick in the context the two of you were in.
“the only concern i really have is that” he paused, unsure on how to even begin to phrase his worries “i’m on the bigger side and i don’t want to accidentally hurt you because it doesn’t, fit” your eyes widened as he spoke, your blood running cold as you took in his words. you gulped before you spoke, shifting a little due to the sudden throb that came from your clit.
“show me”
“right now?” you nodded at him, genuinely wanting to see. you held his arm and pushed him gently so he could stand up, you pulled him to stand in front of you before looking up at him.
“can i?” asking softly if you could see it for yourself, sungchan let out a shaky breath as he nodded and watched you. you focused on what was in front of you, your fingers pushing under the waistband of his pants. you were slow to push them down his legs, his briefs dragging down with them. he watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his cock springing out, your lips parting as his tip leaked. your hands let his pants fall to his ankles, fingers lifting up his shirt so you could see him properly. he replaced your hand, holding his shirt up as you focused on his cock.
sungchan had never felt as vulnerable as he did in that moment, your face so close to his cock, your eyes laced with interest whilst your thighs pressed against each other. he wished he could know what was going on in your head, he wanted nothing more than to know exactly what you were thinking.
“can i touch you sungchan?” the last thing in this world that sungchan trusted was his voice, he had to hold back an almost pathetic whimper at your question, instead he breathed out a yes. he didn’t take his eyes off of what you were doing, when your hand reached out to wrap around his cock sungchan felt his knees buckle from under him. you slowly dragged your hand from the base up to the head of his cock, your thumb brushing over his tip where his precum seeped out of before you pushed your hand back down his cock. his precum caused him to become slicker, your hand moving more freely over his cock because of it.
“you’re right you’re so big” sungchan groaned, he physically couldn’t hold himself back from doing so. hearing you say something so crude to him, something he had basically dreamt of at that point broke down a piece of self control inside of him. you squeezed your hand tighter around his cock, without thinking too much about it in the moment you leant forward and let your tongue brush across his tip. sungchan’s knuckles had already began to turn white at that point, his hands balled into fists as his body betrayed him. more precum seeped from him the more you touched him, he felt useless when he realised just how much he was struggling to stand up.
things weren’t going as smooth for you either, hearing him express concerns over having a big cock only caused your panties to dampen and seeing it for yourself, how it weighed itself down because of its weight made the throb of your cunt worse. your mouthed watered when you took him into your hand and felt how heavy he was, you craved to taste him on your tongue just once and he didn’t disappoint. he melted against your tongue and the way he groaned almost caused you to whimper in return.
“i’ll cum so fucking fast if you suck me off” sungchan’s confession caused you to look up at him, that was a mistake on sungchan’s part. your wide eyes and parted lips only caused him pain, the hand you had around his cock didn’t help that at all either. there was still part of you that wanted to tease him for how he was acting but you held yourself back, an overwhelming part of you being too dumbfound to even attempt to anyway. you released his cock from your grip, doing so by slowly dragging it back to the top and letting it slip off of him, sungchan took in a shaky deep breath when you done so.
you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, your eyes trained on his muscles as he done so. sungchan’s body was something he took pride in and you were incredibly proud of him for it, but this was the first time you had looked at him and wanted to feel him pressed against you. it was almost too easy to imagine the way his abs would flex against your back as he took you from behind or how his arms would flex as he fucked you against the wall. it pained you to think just how good he would feel inside of you. sungchan being completely bare in front of you felt like a fever dream, you almost felt bad for the fact you had planned to not be completely naked. yet your guilt turned to embarrassment when you stood up. somehow the two of you had swapped positions, sungchan had sat on the edge of your bed once you stood up, his bare body on show to you as you shyly stood in front of him. “i’m not completely naked under this, i think i mentioned it in the text”
“you said you brought something pretty to wear” sungchan remembered, how could he forget? he couldn’t wait to see what you had worn underneath his shirt but he also couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers fiddled with the hem of the shirt and your breathing became shaky “are you okay?”
“yeah it just feels a little embarrassing now” you laughed to yourself, lifting your head to look at sungchan. despite the fact his cock was out, literally, there was no awkwardness in the room and that was something you were both grateful for. there was a small smile on sungchan’s face, one you could spot from a mile away “don’t you dare tease me right now i just had your cock in my mouth” sungchan breathed out a laugh, finding comfort in the fact you were still yourself.
“if it helps you feel better, i can’t wait to see what you brought to wear, i already know it’ll make me want to fuck you ever more” you gulped at his words, finally letting yourself bring his shirt over your head. you avoided his eyes for multiple reasons once his shirt hit the floor. sungchan felt his cock throb just at the sight of you “you always looked so pretty in baby blue”
“i remember you saying” you stepped toward him, your eyes finally falling to his face as you watched him take you in.
“i get to fuck you in this?” sungchan groaned without meaning to, his eyes not leaving the thin, see through fabric of the lingerie that stuck to your body. his eyes settled on your cleavage, the material keeping nothing covered as your nipples poked through it. he reached his hands out to grab your hips, wanting to feel your skin under his touch “you look so good” he groaned again, sungchan had never experienced cumming untouched before but if anyone was to do it to him he knew it would be you.
he let his hand fall to your thigh, his fingers tracing your bare skin as he brought them closer to your core. he could feel how hot you were, the lightest touches against your lace clad core let him feel how drenched you already were. your hands fell to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into his muscles.
“i uh, prepped myself before you came over” sungchan swallowed hard hearing you say that, you did touch yourself whilst wearing his shirt. he couldn’t help but wonder if you used your fingers or if you used a toy, maybe a vibrator to work yourself up. he couldn’t bring himself to think of you fucking yourself with a dildo to the thought of him.
“because of the no eye contact thing” sungchan started, his fingers still softly dancing over your core. his eyes met yours and it almost felt as if he was defying the rule already “do you want it from behind” you nodded, breathing out a shaky please as he touched you. “you’ll tell me if it’s too much or if it hurts, right?”
“of course” his concern warmed your heart, sungchan desperately wanted to feel your walls trap his cock inside of you but he care more about your wellbeing to want to bring pain to you just to get that. he could never hurt you.
after a brief moment you stood back, watching as he stood up before you crawled onto the bed. you didn’t have it in you to look at him, instead your settled yourself with your head resting against your pillow and your arms hooked under neath it, holding it in your arms as you laid on your stomach. sungchan dug into his backpack for his pack of condoms, throwing them onto your bedside table after taking one out. he tried not to think too much as he moved back toward your bed, he settled himself on his knees before he touched your skin. he helped you lift your ass into the air, your knees bent and pressed into your mattress as your arched your back. he knelt up and pressed against your back lightly, causing you to arch it a little more before he moved back to the condom in his hand.
the wrapped found itself discarded onto your bedroom floor as he held the condom, he was careful to roll it onto him, breathing heavily as his hand brushed over his cock. he ran his hand over himself a few times before he let go, moving to focus on you. sungchan was careful to push aside the thin fabric of your lingerie, your cunt being exposed to him made his mouth water. he had to restrain himself from pressing his face against you and having you fill every corner of his mouth. he knew there were more pressing matters too attend to, it didn’t help that he could see how wet you were, your slick cunt was so inviting to him. he sighed when he wrapped his hand around his cock, he had to close his eyes when he pressed his tip against your clit. your body jumped and you let out a quiet whimper into the pillow.
“are you ready?” he spoke softly to you, not moving until he heard an audible answer.
“im ready” sungchan squeezed your thigh with his free hand as he guided himself down your slit, the already slick condom seeming to be impossibly soaked by now.
sungchan had to suck in a deep breath when he felt your hole with the head of his cock, he swallowed and stared down at where you two were about to meet as he slowly eased himself into you. he heard you gasp and he paused once the tip of his cock was inside of you, he had to dig his fingers into your hips just to ground himself for a few moments. when he pushed himself deeper into you he felt as if he was going to explode, he stilled his hips and moaned without meaning to. he had to bite back more sounds before he could speak to you.
“does it feel okay?” his voice was shaky, your walls seemed to tighten around him as he spoke to you. it took a few moments for you to respond.
“you feel so fucking good sungchan”
not saying each other’s names? you broke that rule a lot faster than you had expected.
your voice was nothing but a broken moan, your cunt pulling him further into you “i wanna feel all of you, i can take it” sungchan hadn’t expected you to become so desperate, he never expected to hear you begging to take all of him. he knew the idea of him lasting long was far gone out of the window by now.
he gave you what you wanted, easing the rest of himself into you before stilling again, wanting to be sure you could handle it before he pulled out and thrusted slowly back into you. as he built up his pace, he dropped his fingers underneath your body and attached them to your clit. his thrusts becoming a little harder and more frequently as he heard you whine into your pillow.
sungchan hated the fact you were trying to keep yourself quiet, he craved to hear each and ever depraved moan that was threatening to leave you as he fucked you. you drove him insane and he was determined to have you crying out for him. so he sped his fingers up on your clit, he leaned closer to your body and angled his hips so he could reach deeper inside of you. the first cry from your lips had sungchan biting back a whine, the way you sounded shot through his body and went straight to his cock. he held your hips tighter as he pulled your ass back against him, needing to hear it again and again.
but sungchan needed more. he needed to see you, he needed to watch your pretty face contort as you took him deep inside of you and let him explore depths of you that no one ever had before. so despite his better judgement he leaned over your body, his chest pressing against your back as he took your hair in his hand and pressed the side of your head against your pillow, you whimpered at the sudden roughness of his action,s how his demeanour seemed to shift from his previous gentle one.
“let me see you” he spoke deeply into your ear, his hips still bucking against yours “need to see your pretty face when you cum” your only response was your eyes shutting and your lips letting out a desperate please. begging was something sungchan realised you done a lot of, whether you meant to or not. he wasn’t going to complain, but he knew it was something he needed to hear more of.
pulling out of you had you both whimpering for a moment, both of you feeling empty and bare as he turned you over so you were laying on your back. your eyes were dazed as you looked at him, your chest rising heavily as you looked up at him.
no eye contact? sungchan almost laughed as he broke your rule, he needed to see you and he couldn’t stop himself from letting that happen.
sungchan was desperate to get back inside of you, he hooked his hand around the crotch of your panties and tore them off of you before he held your thighs apart. he found your gasp to be amusing as he broke them, not giving you time to say anything about it before he was sinking back into your heat. he let his head fall back as you sucked him back in, your mouth dried up as you watched his abs tense. you clenched a little tighter around him whilst looking at him, unable to fathom just how attractive he was.
when sungchan looked down at you again he was a wreck, his hips setting a pace that had both of your minds free of any thought at all. he couldn’t help but fuck you the way that he did, rough, deep thrusts that had your eyes rolling back and your voice breaking. eventually he leaned down, his forearms resting either side of your head as he fucked into you. he watched your face as you took him deeper into your cunt, he watched the way you struggled to keep your eyes open and how your lips couldn’t shut from how much you were crying out for him. he felt as if he was blessed being able to see you like this, you looked and sounded far better than he had ever imagined and he knew those things would be etched into his mind forever.
his orgasm chased him rapidly, he ended up burying his head in your neck, moaning into your skin when he felt your nails dig into his back. you breathed out his name followed by more and more pleads, all of it together left sungchan bucking his hips against yours in a rushed and uncontrolled way. both of you chasing your orgasms because of the way that it felt. he had never had sex in such a desperate way before and he loved it, he became obsessed with how pathetically needy you were for him too and he knew that his orgasm would hit even harder because of it.
sungchan barely lifted his body off of yours, his hand pushing between the two of you so his fingers could find your clit. him finishing was great but he had to make you cum, he needed to do it. so he did, his fingers rubbed your clit in a sloppy manner but it done everything for you when it was combined with his thrusts into you, your body withered under him as you babbled about being close and needing to cum, the moment he felt you still under him and cry out his name again he knew he had brought you to where you needed to be. he followed suit barely moments after. your name falling from his lips in a pathetic whine as he came inside of the condom.
it took both of you a few moments to even attempt to regain your breaths, your bodies stuck to one another until he finally pulled out of you and laid beside you, he instinctively pulled you against him.
“you can stay the night” you spoke, your head resting against his chest, a sleepy tone in your voice as you listened to his heart beat. your fingers laced through his as they sat against his stomach, your voice breaking the silence again as you spoke before he could say anything “please stay the night” sungchan couldn’t ignore how weak you sounded, he simply wrapped his arm tighter around your waist and kept you close to him, lips pressing against your head.
“i’m not going anywhere”.
the following few days with sungchan seemed as normal as ever, despite the fact you were both silently suffering over one another, you both kept it to yourselves. you spoke normally, neither of you bringing up what had occurred that night. sungchan had already accepted the fact having sex with you didn’t fix his problem, it only made it worse. he thought the no eye contact rule was the most important one you laid out but it seemed to be the easiest to break, he shouldn’t have broken it. all he was stuck with was the image of you laying under him, taking his cock with your eyes squeezed shut and your lips parted as the sweetest sounds sungchan had ever heard fell from them, he swore he could still feel your nails digging into his skin as you cried about being close.
yet, he knew he had to try. maybe seeing yujin again would help him, he knew he was being a little more than just delusional by assuming it but he didn’t see the harm in trying. he never told you about the fact he was going over to her home that night, in fact he wasn’t even aware that yujin told you. he wasn’t sure why he had kept it from you, he had no real reason to but something inside of him felt guilty over it.
yujin had told you as soon as sungchan messaged her, an almost overexcited text from her about him asking to come over later that night appeared on your phone screen and you responded to her with just as much excitement only to close your phone as your felt your heart sink. having sex with sungchan was probably the worst idea you could have ever had, but you didn’t regret it. you craved for it to happen again, to fall into bed with him and feel him rock into you over and over again whilst telling you how perfect you were. it was selfish to think of him in that light, to want him all for yourself after sending him to your friend. the best thing you could do was preoccupy yourself for the night to try to ignore the fact it was likely that he’d have her the way he had you only a few nights prior, shaking the thought out of your head was agony but you tried your best.
it only came rushing back to you when you heard a rushed knock at your door, it was a little past 10pm and you knew there was only one person who would randomly show up at your door so late at night. you knew the chances of sungchan standing there was low but you couldn’t help but hope it was him. looking through the small peephole in your door felt like the best thing to do, not wanting to open the door to just anyone. once you caught sight of sungchan you felt your body freeze, it took a few seconds for you to let him in, your fingers fiddling with the lock to try and get it to open.
neither of you said a word as you opened the door, it only took a second for sungchan to step inside of your house, close the door and have you pressed against the wall. he kissed you for the first time.
no kissing? rule broken.
his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you between himself and the wall. your arms instantly wrapped around his neck as you accepted him, fingers pushing into his hair.
“i need you so fucking bad” he only broke the kiss for a moment, speaking quickly as he held you impossibly tighter against him.
“please” your plea was nothing but a broken whimper. you let him lead you to your bedroom and lay you down, letting him strip you off and do what he had been dreaming of all day. it almost overwhelmed you to think that’s how you ended up in the position you two were in, his bare cock stretching out your walls as you struggle to rock against him.
protection? the final rule had broken far too quickly and neither of you were apologetic about it.
“sungchan please i’m so close” you whimpered, his fingers digging harder into your hips as
you leaned down, your chest pressed against his as your eyes shut. you felt his knees lift beneath you as he bucked his hips up against yours, you cried out as his arms wrapped around your waist. your hands landed either side of his head on your bed, eyes struggling to open and focus on him. sungchan didn’t give you time to before he leant up to kiss you, his head falling back against the bed, pulling you down with him whilst catching your lips with his. you moaned into the kiss, your walls squeezing his cock tightly as you took him over and over again.
there was a faint buzzing sound coming from sungchan’s phone on your nightstand, the lit screen not being close to enough to pull the two of you away from each other.
you laid against sungchan’s chest, your eyes closing once again as you felt his fingers slowly run up and down your back. you found yourself cuddling closer into him, eyes opening to see his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. his cock was still nestled inside of you as you both laid there, nothing but deep breaths could be heard in the room until you heard your phone ding, a text message coming through. sungchan’s arms tightened around you as you tried to lift yourself up, he kept you pressed against his chest as he lifted himself to sit up instead, the two of your bodies still connected.
he picked up your phone and handed it to you, your head resting against his shoulder as he took your phone from him and unlocked it to read the messages on your lock screen. your eyes scanned the messages from yujin, sungchan’s fingers still rubbing your skin as you took in the words. her messages began as curiosity, asking if you knew where sungchan was because he’d left her house abruptly, they changed to concern as she worried if something had happened to cause him to rush off but they seemed to end in anger, her tone changing as she realised he may just not wanted to be with her.
he didn’t stand me up, he left half way through and i think that’s worse lol, i know he’s your best friend but he can go fuck himself, stupid prick. you winced as you read it, sungchan only sighed out an apology into your hair.
“how do i tell her i’m not interested?” he peaked over at his phone to see the missed call notification on his screen. you placed your phone back down and lifted yourself up to look at him, fingers digging into his shoulders as you whimpered when his cock moved inside of you. you could only smile lightly at sungchan, his gentle eyes focused on your face as he seemed genuinely apologetic for causing such an awkward situation between you and your friend.
“you’re not?” sungchan breathed out a laugh, fingers creeping a little higher up your skin. he shook his head “i don’t want her to be upset”
“do you want me to date her?” you narrowed your eyes at him for a moment.
“of course not” he leaned forward, his lips pressing softly against your skin, only touching the corner of yours. he dropped his hands down to your ass, pulling you closer against him as he squeezed it. a moan slipped from you as you moved on his cock again, nails pressing into his skin. his voice was deep as he spoke to you, a shaky undertone taking ahold of it.
“then focus on me instead, we can sort her out later”.
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Poly!Jegulus x Slytherin reader idea
So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort
it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶
poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team
It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.
“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.
“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”
“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”
But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.
Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.
“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”
Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.
You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”
Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”
You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.
Perhaps more importantly, neither had James
“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin’s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.
“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.
“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.
“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.
“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.
“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.
“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”
“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.
“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”
You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”
With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.
The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.
As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.
Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.
Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.
In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.
“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.
With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.
You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.
Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.
You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.
Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.
Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.
There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.
There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.
The pressure became too much.
You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.
“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”
You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.
“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.
Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.
“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”
“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.
“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.
“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”
“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”
“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”
You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.
“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.
“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.
“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.
“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.
“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.
“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.
“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.
“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron.
“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”
But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.
“Mr. Black.”
“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney.
“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle.
“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.”
You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate.
“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.
“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”
“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.
“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.
“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.
“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.
“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.
“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.
Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.
“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side.
“I know.” He whispered back.
“So are you.”
Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.
“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy.
“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”
“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle.
Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead.
“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.
You nodded and offered him a small smile.
Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.
“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”
He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.
“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.
James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.”
You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Just sore.” You offered with a nod.
“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.
You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching.
“I need a healer!”
James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking.
“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”
James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”
“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”
#ask elle#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#self insert#reader insert#james potter#regulus black#james x regulus#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus deserved better#james loves regulus#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x regulus black#jegulus#poly!jegulus#poly!jegulus x reader#poly!jegulus x you#ellecdc fics
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more than friends ; lando norris + part nine
In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight
You don’t even know what you’re doing here and why you’re spending your time like this. Lando and you flew back to Monaco only yesterday, just to flight back to the last race of the triple header tomorrow. He insisted that he wanted to go back home for a bit, so you naturally followed him. Today he told you he needed to fix some Quadrant things with Max, meaning you’d be left on your one. A bit weird since you normally join them when they’re doing stuff for Quadrant. Not wanting to do nothing for the whole afternoon, you asked some friends to lunch together. Which is why you’re sitting in a small lunchroom in the centre of Monaco.
You shouldn’t have asked them for lunch. The last time you saw your friends, they kept going on about their sex life and the non-existing one of you. This time it’s almost the same, expect that they don’t stop about yours.
“You really should just get drunk, find some guy and let him fuck you,” one of your friends state. It’s too bad that it’s too early in the afternoon to start drinking, because being drunk sounds as a solution to make this lunch ‘date’ better. Another friend of yours laughs, “You’d feel better with a bit of experience,” she says. You don’t know what to reply to them, you simply roll your eyes.
You remember what Lando told you when you were drunk and he picked you up. According to him boys would like it, maybe even preferred it if you’re a virgin. You wonder why he said that, was it to make you feel better or is there a truth hiding under it?
“Guys stop,” another friend says. You didn’t even pay attention to the rest of their remarks. Not that you have to hear them to know what they’re saying. “Why don’t you ask Lando to do it?” Your friend asks, “He seems like he’s pretty vanilla during sex, so he probably won’t hurt you,” she adds. It causes you to let out a soft chuckle. They should know.
“Why is everyone so concerned about my virginity?” You ask annoyed when they still continue to make jokes about it, “It’s not even that I’m this concerned about it.”
“It’s just that probably no boy wants someone who’s as inexperienced as you,” is one of the answers you get within seconds. Your friend gets slapped on her arm by someone else for being this direct. “Maybe some guys like it,” you sigh as a response.
“Girl, no boy likes it.”
“When you finally find some guy and act al prudish with him, he will probably cheat on you in no time,” another friend adds.
“Prudes get cheated on.”
Reality crashes down on you. Annoyed but mostly sad you get up from your chair, you walk up to the register and pay for you own lunch before turning back to your friends. You can barely stop yourself from crying. Fuck, why are you even friends with them? Lando told you multiple times that they don’t deserve your kindness. “I’m leaving,” you state before turning away from them and walking out of the cafe. No one stands up to follow you, not that you’re surprised of that.
When you walk further away from the place, you realize that you have no idea what to do now. All of your stuff is still at Lando his place, since you’re sleeping at his. But Lando isn’t home, right? You sigh. A couple tears run down over your cheeks. Should you just call him? Maybe he can pick you up as well. Without further thinking about it, you search for Lando his number and call him.
“Hey babygirl,” Lando greets you within seconds of you calling him. You don’t know why, but when you hear Lando his voice more tears start to roll down on your cheeks. Before giving Lando a proper greeting, you can only let out a sob. “What’s going on?” Lando is quick to ask you, “Did your friends say something mean?” He doesn’t even need to ask, he already knows. You let out another soft sob.
“Can you come get me?” You ask Lando.
“Yes, yes of course,” he replies, “Send me your location, I’m already walking towards the car.”
Lando doesn’t know what to say, or maybe how to express his feelings and thoughts into actual logical sentences. You’re sitting next to him in his car while he’s driving back to his apartment. Since he picked you up, you haven’t said anything about what happened. He can only guess, but his best guess is that your ‘friends’ said something completely unhinged and mean what caused you to get like this.
When Lando parks his car and opens your door for you, he doesn’t know what to do. He wants to take you into his arms and cuddle you until you feel better, but he has no idea if that’s what you want as well. Today was suppose to be ‘the’ day. Fuck, now that he thinks about it - his apartment is a mess. He lied to you about his meeting with Max, there was none. He just needed you gone for a bit, so he could surprise you. Before you called he was busy with lighting candles, throwing around rose petals and creating a nice, cozy atmosphere so you would feel at home. He was almost done when you’re called, but left in a hurry to come and get you. Most of it is in his bedroom, but he’s pretty sure that you can find some hints in the living room as well.
Together you walk inside of the apartment. “Want to talk about it?” Lando asks you.
“Not yet,” you answer honestly, “I’m taking a shower first.”
Lando shows you a simple nod, giving you your time while cursing your friends in his head. He presses a small kiss against the top of your head, before he lets you walk off to the bathroom. Lando wachtes when you walk away from him. He wonders what your friends said that causes you to be sad like this. He can remember multiple times that this happened, last time it was about your sexual inexperience but before that it could be about anything. That you weren’t making time for your friends, that you didn’t treated them nicely enough and he can go on like that.
When you walk into Lando his bedroom to grab some clothes for after your shower, you don’t know what you’re seeing. There are lit candles around his bed, rose petals on the floor and on the sheet and a slow song is playing. The atmosphere seems cozy. You wonder what this is about. Before you can say something, Lando is already showing up behind you.
After watching you walk away, Lando decided to walk to his bedroom and do the last finishing touches. Hoping he could still show you it, without expecting anything back from it. That you’re not in the mood right now is pretty clear and he understands it. When he walks to his bedroom, he almost bumps into you. You’re standing in silence and watching the room.
“Fuck,” Lando mutters when he sees you, “This wasn’t how I planned it.”
“What’s this Lando?” You ask, “Did I interrupt something when I called?”
Lando takes a few seconds to think about your words. Are you suggesting that he was here with another girl? That this was for another girl? Fuck. He doesn’t know if he should become mad or sad with you.
You don’t dare to watch at Lando. You can only wonder about what this meant. Was there another girl here before you came? Did Lando do this for someone else? You can only think about the words from your friends about being prude and what will happen. Were they right? Lando and you aren’t dating, but there was a understanding between you two about not doing anything with others. Tears are rolling down on your cheeks again. You let out a loud sob.
“Fuck babygirl,” Lando mutters, “Of course not.” He hears your sobs and decides to leave the remark for what it was. “I wanted to surprise you,” Lando explains, “I thought that I could surprise you with dinner tonight when I picked you up from your friends at the time we discussed and then when we would get back, I could surprise you with this. And if you were ready, I uh I thought tonight could be the night.”
“You wanted to surprise me?” You ask Lando confused. “Why?”
“I wanted to make your first time special,” Lando confesses.
“Is that why we’re in Monaco?” You continue to ask. A blush is spreading on your cheeks and tears are still rolling down. This time not because of your so called friends and their comments, but because of Lando. Your best friend. God, you don’t even know how the universe ever thought you deserved someone as Lando but you’re thankful for it everyday.
“Yeah,” Lando admits, “I didn’t want your first time to be in a hotel.”
“But you have the most luxurious hotel rooms,” you laugh.
Lando shrugs. “Go shower baby girl, we’ll talk after.”
You grab the clothes that you came for and turn back to get to the bathroom. Lando is still staring at you. You show him a small smile. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” you tell Lando. Before walking off you press a small kiss against Lando his cheek. Lando doesn’t take that as enough, he takes you into his arms and presses his lips against yours.
All flustered you walk to the shower.
+++
“Did you lie to me?” You ask Lando without any sort of context. Lando shows you a confused look, waiting for you to continue your question. “You told me that some guys would even like it that I’m a virgin, did you mean that?” You continue to ask.
“Yes!” Lando is quick to exclaim, “I meant that.”
“Would you like it?” You question further. When Lando doesn’t answer quick enough, you continue to talk. “Suppose I’m your girlfriend and you find out that I’m a virgin, would you like that or think it’s weird?”
“Baby,” Lando sighs, is he really going to confess this to you? “If you were my girlfriend and I would find out that you’re a virgin, I would be fucking happy.”
“You would be happy?” You ask Lando.
“Which guy wouldn’t be happy if his girl wasn’t touched by any other guy?” Lando asks you, he knows he sounds possessive right now - but he really can’t help himself. “It’s okay if she’s not a virgin, but I always liked the thought of having a virgin girlfriend more. There’s something about exploring everything together. Being the only guy who she’s going to do those things with.”
“Promise?” You ask. “Promise,” Lando answers directly, “but now you’re going to tell me what your friends told you because I think that this has something to do with it.”
It doesn’t take you long to get everything out in the open. All the remarks your friends made about you’re still being a virgin. Lando knows how to react perfectly, he lets out a couple annoyed huffs and mutters some remarks about how pathetic they are. When you tell him what they said about prudes, he feels himself fill with rage. “That’s bullshit,” he states, “not that you’re a prude and even if you were a prude, I’d never cheat on you.”
For one moment he forgets that he isn’t your boyfriend and that your friends have no idea about what’s happening between the two of you. He feels personally attacked, not because your friends thought he was vanilla at sex, but because they are filling your mind with their awful opinions. If you were his girlfriend, he wouldn’t even know what cheating meant. Who would cheat when they have you?
“Maybe we can watch something in bed?” You eventually ask Lando. You’re done with talking about it and want to relax for a bit, tomorrow you’ll have to leave early for the flight. Lando shows you a nod and takes you with him to his bedroom.
The both of you forgot for a moment how the bedroom is looking. You still can’t believe that Lando did this for you. Lando lets out an awkward chuckle, he also forgot about this. This day went a whole other direction then he thought it would, but he’s fine with it. Al though, having sex with you still would be the best outcome of today.
“I’m sorry for fucking up today,” you tell Lando softly, “It’s so sweet that you planned this and I really fucked it up.”
“You didn’t,” Lando quickly replies, “If anything, you can’t do anything about what happened.”
“I could stop being friends with those girls,” you sigh.
“That sounds like a good plan.”
You let out a soft laugh. It’s no secret that Lando doesn’t like them and now you can state that he’s more then right about it. The both of you are laying in Lando his bed, casually clothed and ready to watch some dumb YouTube videos. But you change your mind about that, you move yourself closer to Lando so you can feel his body against yours. Why would you let your morning stop how the rest of the day is going?
Lando is silently watching you. He knows nothing is going to happen for the rest of the night, but he can’t stop thinking about the way today was supposed to go. He shouldn’t have brought you to your friends, maybe then it would have gone better. Lando lets out a soft sigh. Since he came up with this idea he has been horny. He can’t stop thinking about how it would be to have sex with you. How tight would you feel around his cock? Fuck, he needs to stop thinking about this.
“Lan?” You ask suddenly.
“Yes babygirl?”
“I’m still ready,” you confess.
“What do you mean?” Lando asks confused. Do you mean what he thinks? Are you talking about having sex? Now?
“Maybe we can still continue with your plan?” You suggest, “We might have missed the dinner part, but it would be a shame if you put on all those candles for nothing.”
“Are you sure?” Lando asks surprised. “Yes,” you answer him, “I want you to take my virginity.”
In no time Lando is hovering above your body. He looks you in your eyes while asking the same question again, this time you still answer him with yes. “I don’t want you to regret this,” Lando continues, “Are you really sure?”
“Lan, I’m sure and I swear to God that if you ask me that again I’ll call Pierre Gasly to come here and do something about it.”
Lando firmly grabs one of your tits underneath your clothes, squeezing it until you let out a soft yelp. “Don’t say that ever again,” he states. He releases your breast. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him down onto yourself, getting close enough to properly kiss him. Lando smiles through the kiss. Is this actually happening? He feels himself getting more excited then ever before. Crazy isn’t it? He had sex with the hottest models, the most famous influencers, but he has never been so excited to fuck with someone as he is right now.
“Lan?”
“Yes?”
“You’re going to be careful right?” You ask a bit unsure.
“Of course baby girl,” Lando replies honestly, “We can stop anytime you like, just say the word.”
“You’re the best,” you say with a relieved sigh.
It’s a sign for Lando to continue. He pulls your shirt - or better said his own shirt which you’re wearing, up and removes it from your body. He presses multiple kisses on your neck, shoulders and keeps moving lower until your nipple is in his mouth. He feels it stiffen in his mouth. In the mean time he lets his hands wander around your body. He toys with the waistband of your sweatpants. This time you’re the one who pulls them down, causing you to lay in only your string for now.
“Eager babygirl?” He asks you.
“Maybe,” you confess.
Lando slides his fingers over your string. Making sure to tease you a bit. He moves himself lower on your body, slowly he presses some kisses on your stomach before lowering himself even more and kissing your more private parts. It doesn’t take long before you let out the first couple of moans. When Lando hears the moan falling from your lips, he can’t stop smiling.
“Don’t tease,” you mutter when Lando is still toying with your underwear.
“Want you as wet as possible,” Lando replies. You grab his hand, move away your string and let his hand feel the pool of wetness between your legs. “I don’t think you have to do much for that,” you tell Lando. You move your own hand towards Lando his private parts, slowly tracing the outlines of his boner through his sweatpants. He grunts lowly and finally pulls of your string. Lando lowers himself again, causing you to lose the feeling of his boner on your hands.
He takes a minute to look at your vagina before pressing his lips on it. Multiple soft kisses are pressed around your pussy before Lando gives his attention to your clit. Slowly he laps onto it. His goal is to make you as horny as possible, so you might even cum when he fucks you. It doesn’t take him long before you’re close to your orgasm. It’s his cue to stop. You let out a soft whine when Lando removes his mouth from your pussy and looks at you.
“Still sure?” He asks you while pulling down his sweatpants and underwear. His boner springs free, you notice how it softly slaps against Lando his stomach. You wonder if you have ever seen him this hard. Lando on the other hand knows for sure he has never been this hard. The things you’re doing to him, without actually doing something, are insane.
“Yes,” you state. You look at Lando trying to grab something out of his nightstand. When you see him with a condom wrapper, you slowly shake your head at him. “Are you clean?” You ask Lando. He is fast to tell you a yes, “I’ve never done anything without a condom,” he adds. “Then this will be a first for the both of us,” you reply. Lando asks you a couple more times if you’re sure about it, which you keep answering with yes and green.
Then he throws away the condom and moves closely to you. Gently he spreads your legs. “You can tell me to stop anytime,” he softly says. “Please just fuck me already,” you whine. It causes Lando to let out a deep chuckle.
He positions himself in front of your entrance. In a weird way he’s nervous about this as well. He wants to ask you if you’re ready (again), but you’re already nodding at him. It’s the sign for Lando to start with slowly pushing himself inside of you. When he you clenching around his dick, he almost loses it. As soft as he can manage he pushes his dick inside of you. You don’t say anything. Lando closely watches your face, but doesn’t spot many signs of discomfort. When he’s fully inside of you, you let out a soft moan. Lando does the same, but only a lot harder.
“Fuck babygirl,” he mutters, “You feel so fucking good.”
You show Lando a small smile.
“Can I move?” He asks you.
“Of course Lan.”
Lando slowly starts to move inside of you. You feel him pulling back a bit before going all the way in again. He does so a couple times. His movements are slow but steady. It doesn’t hurt, but that can also be because of Lando who’s distracting you. His lips has found their way back to your tits. He sucks on them, leaving all kind of marks. When he moves his lips higher and starts to make a mark on your neck as well, you wonder how you’ll ever hide that during the race week in another hot country.
“You can go a bit faster,” you eventually tell Lando. He is quick to act out your instructions. When he increases his pace, things are starting to feel better and better.
“Fuck, it’s insane how good you feel around my dick,” Lando mutters. He isn’t surprised that he already feels his orgasm coming close to him. This has been on top of his mind for the last weeks and now he finally gets to feel you like this. Your pussy clenches on his dick. It causes him to let out a hard moan. “Such a good girl,” he tells you, “taking me so well.” He increases his pace a bit more, asking you for your color after doing so. When he hears you almost moan out the word green, he increases even more.
You feel your stomach tighten. Everyone always said that the first time wouldn’t be a nice experience. You’ve always been afraid for it, maybe that’s why you waited this long. But Lando, fuck, Lando takes away all the pain. Maybe it’s pure because he is the one that it doesn’t hurt. Nobody knows your body as well as Lando does, he can surprise you with what he does. When he increases his pace, you let out a soft moan. You’re close. For the first time you don’t ask Lando for permission, you don’t tell him that you’re close. It just happens. Your orgasm crashes over you, leaving you in a state of pure bliss.
Lando is quick to follow. “Can I cum inside you?” He asks. You tell him a yes, you’re on the pill so it’s fine. That’s all it takes for him, you feel him empty himself in your vagina. When Lando slowly pulls back, you let out a soft whine.
“Was it okay?” Lando asks you. You turn yourself a bit more towards him, laying your head on top of his chest. “Yes,” you confess, “more then okay.”
You start to doubt about what will happen now. Will this be the end of your lessons with Lando? You certainly don’t hope so, but what if he thinks it is? You start to get a bit nervous. How will things ever go back to normal? Is that still possible? You’re head over heals for your best friend, but you have no idea how he feels. Maybe this was just sex for him and the chance of it being done now is kinda big. You want to ask Lando how things will continue for now, but you can’t find the right words.
“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “I can’t wait to feel you around me again.”
That makes your worries go away for a bit.
part ten
a/n; it finally happened!!
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#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#formula one#ln4#f1#lando norris imagines#lando norris smut
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Other side
pairing: james potter x fem reader
cw: literally just smut
summary: james has a particular way on releasing his anger
‘so it goes…
i’m yours to keep
and i’m yours to lose
you know i’m not a bad girl, but i
do bad things with you.’
════════════════
James Potter, beloved head boy most renounced for his kind and helpful nature, everyone adorned him, everyone wanted to be his friend. Yet you, his girlfriend of two months saw a different side to him, a darker one. James was in no way the perfect angel he was painted to be- yet you’d argue that it he was pretty close to that- he had a temper to him. Most boys punched something, cursed someone out or started a fight when built up, but James was different. He fucked.
The match in front of your eyes between Slytherin and Gryffindor was quite aggressive, both teams had a fiery passion built on their egos. It was a known fact the two houses were each others greatest rivals and so you knew how hard James trained for this match- waking up at the crack of dawn and training for hours, you knew how much he needed the win. The damp and gloomy weather caused for an increase in tensions the enjoyment of the game was frankly stripped with a very non-enthusiastic crowd, the rain had fully soaked through your clothes sending a deep shiver down your spine, droplets of water impaired your sight making the players look like blobs flying around and the cold of Scotlands famed weather made you want to be inside curled up next to the fire.
The rest of the match was nothing short of a blur, nearing the end Gryffindor had the upper hand it seemed as if they had prospect of winning but of course the Slytherins ruined that. The beater send a bludger in the direction of the Gryffindor beater, this hit him right in the stomach sending him off his broom. The crowd averted their attention to the falling boy, but you watched as James got distracted, wondering if his teammate was alright. Whilst distracted, Regulus Black dove in and caught the snitch. The Slytherin stand jumped to a cheer as the Gryffindor stand protested.
“That’s not fair they cheated!” Shouted a fourth year, who was boiling with rage, the rest of the stand alike.
“I hate Slytherins.” Grumbled Mary beside you, her arms were crossed and she wore a deep scowl on her face.
“That was a dirty win,” agreed Lily who stood huddled in next to you, you wanted to save as much heat.
“Sirius is going to be so pissy about this for the rest of the week, he’s not going to let Regulus get off easy with that.” Remus complained watching as Sirius got off his broom and angrily stomped over to the direction of James.
“Not Sirius I would be worried about,” Mary sighed, “look at James, he must be raging. He really wanted this win.”
“I think you’re right,” Lily agreed, “Y/N you should go down to him.”
“I was thinking about letting him cool off first maybe.”
You looked down to the pitch, James had his arms crossed. His jaw was firmly cleaned and his eyes glared across the pitch at the Slytherins, who were celebrating their victory. You stood with your friends for a moment longer, all talking about how tonight would look before deciding to go inside. You chose not to and instead made your way onto the pitch, you approached James and Sirius who were engaged in a very intense conversation.
“Hey,” you said, breaking them from the conversation. You shot them both sympathetic looks, especially James who you’ve never seen so riled up before.
“Go inside and change, you’re soaked.” James replied, despite the sentiment of his words his voice lacked the same warmth, instead his attention focused on the Slytherins again.
“Im fine-” you began but was quickly cut off by the shouts of the Slytherin team.
“Why the long face Potter?” One of them teased, the whole group broke out into laughter in response.
James clenched his fists, as did Sirius. You were scared that this was about to turn into a whole fight.
“Come on you two, let’s go inside. Ignore them they’re just winding you up.”
“Yeah Potter listen to your mummy.” Another from the team remarked, before you knew it James was shoving him to the ground. It all happened so quickly that you could barely process the whole thing.
“Sirius get him off!” You shouted, Sirius quickly ran over attempting to pull James back but when one of the boys punched Sirius in the face he joined in to fight.
It was a good few minutes before the Gryffindor team managed to break up the fight, Marlene dragged a very beaten up looking Sirius inside, presumably to Madame Pomfrey. James shrugged himself out of the grip of John Bell and walked over to you, before you could comment on his bloody lip he grabbed you hand and pulled you inside. The two of you silently walked up to the Gryffindor dormitories, past the common room and straight up to his room. You knew what was coming, you’d be lying if you said the grip his hand had on yours and the pace of his legs didn’t have your arousal building up. You knew instead you should clean up his lip and help cool him down, but there was something deep inside you excited for this, excited to have him dominate you and use you as his toy. You were so lost in thought you gasped as he pushed you up against the wall.
You gripped his arm steadying your balance as his lips went immediately to your neck, his sucked and bit the area, marking you as his with the darkest of marks. He detached from your neck and smashed his lips onto yours, your hand went into his damp hair as your lips connected you could taste the blood from his swollen lip. His tongue slipped into your mouth, engulfing you into an intense make out. Whilst doing so James gripped your ass, pulling you closer to you and causing a moan to escape your lips as your front grind against his, you felt his bulging cock, begging to be freed. James pulled back and smirked at you, his eyes darkening with lust.
“Get down on your knees.” He ran a finger across your lip as you nodded, gazing at him starry eyed through your fluttering lashes.
You slowly dropped to your knees, patiently watching as James undone his trousers pulling them and his boxers down to his ankles. You mouth practically watered as his cock sprung free, it was red and bulging, aching from need and so painfully stiff. You swore you’d never seen him so hard before. You leaned forward your lips shyly coming in contact with his tip, you moved closer allowing your tongue to lick a long stripe from his base to his tip. James gathered your hair in his hands, his grip making you wince ever so slightly. You took him in your mouth- well as much as could fit, you felt him in the back of your throat as you started to move your head. Sucking on him and hollowing your cheeks as you done so, the deep grunts coming from James had you squeezing your thighs together. Abruptly he tightened his grip on your hair and started to control your head, he quickened your speed and pushed himself further down your throat making a gag escape your lips and your eyes prickle with tears.
“Good girl,” James praised, bringing a blush to your cheeks. You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face as you kept going, he nodded in approval. “Touch yourself darling.” You furrowed your brows and he reiterated his statement.
You lowered your hand to the waistband of your legging, you slid your hand into your underwear and started to rub circular motions on your clit. A deep moan came from you as you picked up the pace, James moved your head faster your moans sending a deeper pleasure to him. The room filled with the erratic sounds of your moans and sucking along with James’ deep grunts and groans. You felt the coil tightening in your stomach, building up getting close to snapping. You looked up at James, he nodded encouraging your actions. You felt him getting sloppier with his movements as he moved a hand to the wall for support. He had his head back and his Adam apple was prominent, his jaw was slightly parted in pleasure and his hair messily sat atop his hair occasionally dripping from the rain droplets. The sight of his itself brought you closure to your release, as you deep you moaned with such volume you could have sworn those in the common room would have heard you, but you couldn’t care.
As soon as you came undone James pulled back, he grasped your arms pulling you up. Your legs shook as he walked you over to his bed, he wasted no time pushing you onto it and stripping himself down. You watched biting your lip at him, his abs glistened with sweat and his arms bulged with veins, not to mention the fact he was still hard. He towered over you, kissing you roughly as his hands pulled off your legging. He pulled back as he removed your underwear, a smirk forming as he saw the result of your orgasm.
“Fuck you are so hot.” He whispered into your ear, your whole body flushed as your arousal practically leaked from you. You so desperately needed him, you grabbed his jaw pulling his mouth to yours and kissing him roughly. Your tongue forcing its way into his mouth, slowly James pulled back biting your lip as he done so, you whined in return.
“Please,” you groaned as you wrapped a leg around his waist, hoping some friction.
“Not yet baby.” He said, as he kissed down your jaw. He pulled back, removing your jumper and bra and continued kissing down your body. He left marks on your collarbone before moving to your chest. He took your left nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting on it as your desperation grew, you had a deep ache for him and his every move only grew that.
Swiftly he moved from your body, grabbed your waist and flipped you onto your stomach. He gripped your ass and firmly smacked it before speaking, “get onto your hands and knees.” Right away you done that, biting your lip in anticipation. James from behind grabbed your hips, he rubbed his tip against your soaked folds making you whimper in pleasure, and leaving you clenching around nothing. “Beg.”
You whined in protest, making stop the action altogether. A huff escaped your lips, “please James. Please.. fuck me.” You pleaded.
Without warning he shoved into you making you cry out at the stretch. Soon you adjusted and the harder he went the louder you got, you couldn’t control the sounds escaping your lips as the pleasure overrode your body, you could instantly feel the coil build up in your stomach once again. James gripped the head board reaching over you and going even deeper, allowing him better access of that sweet spot, this had your eyes rolling in pleasure. His other hand firmly wrapped around your throat, not enough to harm you but enough to get you going even more. Chasing that release you rolled your hips, sending courses of overbearing pleasure to you both.
James moaned in response, a sound that had your arms weakening and mind fogging, you clenched around him practically screaming as you came undone. Your arms collapsed as you fell onto the bed. James let go of your throat and the headboard and instead held your hips as he mercilessly pounded into you, by now you were in a state of pure euphoria, completely and utterly cock drunk. A continuation of soft moans formed from you, too gone to stop it. James gripped your hips tighter, moving them with each thrust he done again doubling the pleasure coursing through you. It wasn’t long until you felt that coil again, each thrust made you weaker and weaker, your mind only focused on the utter bliss you felt- the complete exhilaration he caused you.
“Fuck baby- you feel so good.” James groaned as he pounded into you.
His speed was sending the bed rocking with him and slamming into the wall, the noise you both were making frankly ensured no one would walk in although even that wouldn’t faze you considering how immobilised you’d become, in the best way possible. You didn’t want it to end.
“James,” you cried out. “Feels so good, fuck.”
“You look so pathetic,” he grunted. “Like an absolute slut for me.” The degradation made you clench around him in absolute bliss. He smacked your ass again, resulting in a squeal from you as you raised it further for him.
“Don’t stop.” You moaned, your hands gripped his pillow, your knuckles turning white at the intensity.
You came hard around him, causing nothing short of a mess. You were dripping and clenching around him, tears of pleasure streamed down your face and your throat was numb from the volume of your moans. James very quickly came too, completely filling you up, the warm sensation flew through you and leaked out of you. Slowly he pulled out creating an even bigger mess around you both. You moved to sit at the top of the bed, blushing furiously at the result of you both.
“Sorry.” You said shyly.”
“Don’t apologise, it was hot.” James winked as he stripped the bed. “No big deal.”
He helped clean you up and supplied you with a hoodie of his and a pair of shorts, you both got into his bed squeezing in together. You lay on his chest as he stroked your hair.
“Feeling okay?” He smiled, you couldn’t help but smile at the complete change in him. Although you loved when he got worked up this was your favourite version of James, the sweet one that cared for you and held you in his arms.
“Yes.” You smiled. “I must say though, you really should lose more often.”
James shook his head. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe.” You blushed and settled contently next to him.
You must’ve fell asleep but was abruptly woken up by the clapping of someone. You opened your eyes to see Peter, Sirius and Remus all at the foot of James’ bed. Sirius was the one clapping, a boyish grin on his face, Remus shook his head at Sirius and Peter awkwardly looked to the ground.
“Congratulations you two animals the entirety of Gryffindor heard your little session. We were almost scared to come upstairs and by the silence we thought you were dead Y/N.” Sirius teased.
“Stop lying Sirius. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” You rolled your eyes as you sat up.
“Oh really?” Sirius laughed as he done an impression of you, you covered your face in sheer embarrassment as James threw a pillow at him rightfully shutting him up.
“Shut up Sirius.” Remus and James said in union.
#fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#smut light plot#marauders smut#marauders fandom#marauders fanfiction#marauders#james potter x reader#james potter#james potter smut#james potter scenario#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter fic#boyfriend! james potter
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Maybe billy hargrove x sunshine!cheerleader!reader ? where they‘re dating and the rest of the cheer squad (except chrissy <3) is jealous so they act like they are her friends and they keep asking her questions about billy to have a chance with him, but she doesn’t realize because she thinks they’re just interested in her relationship since they’re ‘re apparently her friends. But billy is super loyal (kinda unrealistic with his character but anyway lol) and every time they they try to hit on him he rejects them pretty harshly ? And maybe in the end she finally stands up for herself and billy is just like „that‘s my girl.“
I‘m so sorry if this was hard to understand it‘s my first time requesting and I was so nervous🥲, especially since I basically read all of your ST fics😭
Love love love a good boyfriend Billy fic 🫶🏻
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3
Cheerleader game
When the word got out that Billy Hargrove locked down on one girl, hell broke loose. The boys were excited that there wouldn't be any more competition, but the girls were having a hard time accepting it. Billy was the heartthrob of the school and every girl wanted their turn with him. But his eyes landed on Y/N, and they never left.
Y/N was sweet, bubbly, and all-around a ball of sunshine. Her being with Billy was a shock to everyone. Sure, she was a cheerleader and Billy only focused on the popular crowd. But the squad couldn't believe out of all of them, he picked her.
Their jealousy made them bitter and snakes. They swarmed Y/N countlessly with questions about Billy. They craved every detail they could get, details to make him interested in them. Poor Y/N didn't know their intentions, she thought they were just interested in her new relationship. She thought they were being friends.
~~~
"So Y/N, tell us! What does he like about you?" Bethany smiled, patting her manicured nails against the table.
"Um, I don't know. I feel like you'd have to ask him that." Y/N laughed awkwardly. To be honest, she wondered why he liked her too. But she didn't think too long about it. He liked her and asked her out. That's what mattered.
"Wrap your brain around it! You beat out the whole school, there must be something special about you." Bethany said, her eyes glared for a tiny second then a bright smile took over her face.
Y/N tried to rank her brain for compliments Billy gave. She smiled as a few came to mind.
"Oh, I know! He loves my pink lip gloss. He said he loves how shiny and irresistible it makes my lips!"
~~~
Billy was walking towards his car when he saw a girl leaning on it. He eyed her quickly but didn't recognize much about her.
"Can I help you?" Billy asked, and not politely. His voice was thick and sharp. His eyes raised in a bothered way and his body language read annoyed.
Bethany giggled and popped her gum. The gum brought attention to her shiny pink lips. Billy noticed the familiarity of the gloss but didn't say anything about it.
"See something you like? The gloss maybe?" She teased, she slowly applied the lipgloss over her already-coated lips. Billy saw the bottle and confirmed it was the same kind Y/N wore.
"Not on you," Billy said, chuckling at the shocked look on Bethany's face. He got in the car and started the engine. The loud rumble made Bethany move out of the car with a growl.
~~~
"What do you guys enjoy doing on dates? Does he like to go to the movies or something?" Sarah asked, throwing her bright blonde hair over her shoulder.
"We go to the movies a lot! He's really into action movies. He wants to go see that new Batman movie."
~~~
Billy was finishing practice, his sweat dripping from his curls down his chest. The small shorts he wore caught every cheerleader's attention. Practicing in the same gym was the best thing the school came up with.
While Y/N and Chrissy were having a small talk on the couch, Sarah took the opportunity to race off to talk to Billy. After her talk with Y/N yesterday, she raced to the movie theater to buy two tickets for the new Batman film for opening night.
She snatched the tickets and confidently walked up to Billy. His back to her as he switched out his shirts. Sarah felt drool on her chin as she watched his tan back move. She tapped on his shoulder, a smile on her face as he turned.
"Hi, Billy! You looked great during practice today." She batted her eyelashes and trailed her hand up his arm. She tried not to pout when he pushed her hand off and made a grunt sound in response.
"Anyway!" She brushed it off, "I got two tickets for that new Batman movie, would you maybe want to go?"
"Sweet! Thanks!" He smiled. There was a glint in his eye that made her stomach flip. "Can I see them?" He asked, his hand reaching out. She tried to catch her breath as his fingertips touched her skin. Her body was on fire from the simple touch.
"Opening night! That kicks ass. Thanks." He said he slipped the tickets into his pocket. "See ya."
Sarah was confused as she watched him walk off. She turned around and growled when she saw him walk up to Y/N. The tickets were in his hands as he showed them to Y/N, who excitedly nodded. They walked out hand in hand with Sarah's tickets.
~~~
Y/N screamed as Billy scored the winning shot. The gymnasium was electric as the boys celebrated their win. Y/N waited for all the boys to finish congratulating Billy, waiting for her turn to race in his arms and kiss his face.
By the time the boys finished, the cheer squad raced to Billy next. Y/N stood shocked as all these girls swarmed her boyfriend. Their hands on his skin, and lips on his cheek. That's supposed to be her!
"Get your man, girl." Chrissy encouraged, her arms crossed as she looked in shame at her team.
Y/N huffed and marched over to her boyfriend. She felt a sense of pride that he didn't look pleased either. He looked annoyed with all these girls.
Once his blue eyes caught hers, a smile lit up his whole face. Y/N wanted to laugh at the way he pushed through the girls, his feet walking towards her.
"There's my girl." He cheered, his arms open as she raced into them. She ignored everyone around them as Billy spun her in the air. Her praise was the only one he cared about hearing it from.
"Amazing, baby." Her words pressed against his lips as she kissed him. And she kissed him hard. Her hands were in his hair as he set her back on the floor. Her back arched as he dipped her.
When they separated from their hot kiss, Y/N offered him a smile before she looked to her team. Her face was hard as the smile was swiped off her face. A glare and snarl sent their way as she stepped closer to them.
"I'm done with all you girls flirting and touching him. He's taken and he's not interested. If you continue to disrespect my relationship, your ass is off the team." The girls quickly ran off, A sense of fear filled the atmosphere as they refused to look at her or Billy.
Y/N stood proudly as she watched them scatter.
"Atta girl." Billy praised, his arms wrapping around her from behind. His face snuggled in her neck as she giggled at the feeling.
"Gotta sink my claws in you a tad bit more, I think," Y/N said, quietly moaning as Billy nipped at her neck.
"Gladly let you."
#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove stranger things#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove x cheerleader! reader#ashwhowrites
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them kissing at the top of the ferris wheel i BEG. and maybe throw in some angst if u feel like it, adding flashbacks to them doing this every year even when they were just “friends” or the line between friends and something else…?
state of us
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
a/n: i wrote this in one setting omfg so this is very unedited but i hope you guys love this just as much as i do!!! enjoy :)
word count: 2.6k
masterlist
August 2017
Azzi has always looked forward to the state fair; it’s one of the few times a year she gets to see her extended family in Minnesota and gorge herself on cookies and corn dogs and all the likes. But something about this year is special, and Azzi would be lying if she said it wasn’t due to the blonde girl whose hand she’s currently holding.
“I still can’t believe I’ve lived in Minnesota my entire life and I’ve never been here,” Paige marvels, jaw slightly dropped in awe as she takes in her surroundings. Azzi is usually like Paige, letting herself get lost in the exhilarating combination of the smell of greasy, buttery foods and the cheery sound of lively music and the smiles on everyone’s faces, but for some reason this year she’s fully and entirely captivated by Paige.
“It’s like the one time of year my parents let us eat whatever we want,” Azzi informs her friend, nodding towards her little brothers who are stuffing themselves with cotton candy. Her and Paige both look at each other and share a giggle before quickly averting their eyes. It’s a novel feeling, the butterflies in Azzi’s belly that erupt every time she holds Paige’s gaze for a little too long. It’s the same feeling she gets when their knuckles brush, or when Paige is being annoying and insists on putting her head in Azzi’s lap whenever they’re lying on the couch. And it’s a scary feeling, so far from what she feels towards all of her other friends, but it’s one that makes her lightheaded and dizzy in the best way possible, a feeling she desperately chases after.
Even now, Azzi tightens her fingers around Paige’s. Her palm is starting to collect sweat, but she prays to the gods that Paige won’t notice. She’s not ready to let go just yet.
Azzi clears her throat. They’ve been silent for a little too long, and the air between them is tense. “I buy a huge bucket of cookies every year,” she continues. “Maybe if you’re nice to me today I’ll let you have some.”
Paige scrunchs her eyebrow in feigned indignation. “I’m always nice to you.”
“Well I guess you gotta be especially nice today.” Then Azzi lets go of her hand, throwing Paige a wink over her shoulder before running to catch up with the rest of their family. Paige doesn’t have enough time to figure out what Azzi’s words mean before Katie starts calling for her too.
They’re in line for the ring toss when Jose pokes Paige hard in the back. The blonde whips around, ready to jokingly give the 11 year old a piece of her mind. But before she can even get a word out, Jose says, “That guy in the very back of the line wants me to tell you that he thinks you’re cute,” then skips away to find Jon.
Paige is confused. She glances towards the huddle of teenage boys 50 feet away and sees one of them, a lanky boy with a mop of unruly brown hair, give her a smirk. Cheeks hot, she turns back to Azzi. “Um,” she stutters, seemingly unable to find her bearings. The topic of boys has certainly come up in her and Azzi’s conversations before, but only when gossiping about their teammates or their friends. In the year she’s known Azzi, Paige hasn’t brought up a single of her own crushes, and neither has Azzi. It’s like an unspoken rule floating between them, a rule now irreparably broken by a boy too bold for his own good.
Azzi’s staring at the laces of her shoes. “You should go talk to him,” she says. She tries to keep her voice casual, calm, but she knows by the shift in Paige’s body language that it was too strained, too forced.
“Why?” Paige’s eyes are burning a hole into Azzi’s forehead. “I don’t even know him.”
Azzi shrugs, toes the dirt with the tip of her shoe. Her heart is beating erratically, and she doesn’t know why. “He thinks you’re cute.”
Paige takes another look at the boy. He is handsome, with striking blue eyes and dimples in his cheeks. But when she looks back at Azzi’s frowning face, she wishes it was her dimples that she could see and not his. “I don’t want to,” Paige says decisively, narrowing her eyes at the boy to show that she’s not interested.
Azzi’s head snaps up. “Why not?”
It’s Paige’s turn to look away. “I dunno. What if we hang out and he tries to steal my first kiss or something?“
Azzi’s body grows hot at the idea of imagining Paige’s first kiss. “Would that be so bad?”
“I want my first kiss to be special,” Paige responds. She takes in Azzi, who’s wearing a neon blue tank top and workout shorts. Her cheeks are a little flushed from the late summer heat. There’s a little curl of hair that escaped from her bun, damp from the humidity of the day. Paige wants to brush it behind Azzi’s ear. So she does. She leans forward and lets her thumb trail across Azzi’s cheek before swiping at the curl, moving it away from Azzi’s eyes. “I don’t wanna do the ring toss anymore,” she says.
Azzi swallows. “We could go on the ferris wheel?” she suggests timidly.
“Okay.”
And before she knows it, Paige’s hand is in Azzi’s again, the older girl letting the younger girl guide them through the maze of bodies. And although Azzi’s hand is a little bit damp and Paige has always hated sweaty hands, not for a single second does the thought of pulling away cross her mind.
Paige drops into the bench across Azzi’s, and the operator shuts the door behind them. The car rocks unsteadily, and Paige glances around nervously.
“It’s okay,” Azzi reassures. “These things are stronger than they look.”
“I hope so.”
Azzi cocks her head curiously. “Come sit with me.”
“Are you sure?” Paige asks tentatively. “What if it makes the car go off balance?”
With a roll of her eyes, Azzi gets up and plants herself next to the blonde. She rubs her hand across Paige’s back, noting the tenseness of her shoulders. “Are you scared right now?” Azzi snickers.
“No!” Paige says defensively. “I’ve just heard stories about fair rides.”
“I didn’t know you were a pussy.”
“Shut up,” Paige demands, but she finds herself leaning into Azzi’s touch. She blames it on her slight fear of heights, but deep down she knows it’s because she’ll never be able to get enough of Azzi.
“I didn’t like it,” Azzi confesses after a brief moment of silence. “Knowing you could’ve left me to hang out with some guy.”
“I would never leave you.” Paige’s eyes are bright in the falling light of the evening, and they hold a promise that Azzi doesn’t yet know will stay true for the rest of their lives. But for now, the soft way Paige is looking at her gives her the boldness to say, “I haven’t had my first kiss either.” She drops her hand from Paige’s back. “I’m too scared.”
“What’re you scared of?” Paige’s voice is barely a whisper.
“That I won’t like it. That they’ll be too rough. Or they’ll say I’m a bad kisser.”
“They?”
Azzi looks down.
“I like girls too.” The words take a second to register in Azzi’s brain, but when they do, she feels defensiveness rise in her chest. “I never said I liked girls,” Azzi said, her voice holding slight traces of panic.
Paige’s lips twist in a frown. “It’s not wrong to like girls.”
“I know, I just….”
“It’s my first time saying it out loud.” Paige cracks a smile. “If that makes you feel better.”
Azzi lets out a breathy laugh. “It’s just hard to tell, sometimes, ya know?”
“I know.” Paige worries her lower lip nervously. “But maybe I could help?”
Azzi’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Like…I could help you confirm whether or not you like girls?” Paige sounds uncertain. “And then…and then your first time wouldn’t have to be with some random asshole.”
Azzi stares at her best friend. She flips Paige’s words over in her brain, trying to make sense of it all. “You want me to kiss you?”
Paige looks flustered. “I don’t want you to. I mean, I don’t not want you to, I just-,” she closes her eyes briefly, taking her time to collect her thoughts. “I’m just offering to. You know? I wouldn’t mind. That way my first kiss can be with someone I trust too.”
Paige waits patiently for Azzi’s response. Her knee’s been jiggling against the hot metal of the bench, but the weight of Azzi’s hand from where she’s now placed it on her thigh quickly stops her movements.
Before her doubts can stop her, Azzi leans in, placing a hand firmly at the back of Paige’s neck. She presses her mouth to Paige’s, letting it linger there for a few seconds before pulling away. “There,” she says shakily. “Our first kiss.”
Paige stares at Azzi, dazed, both of them silent and still as the car slows to a stop, back at the bottom. Azzi realizes that she’s forgotten to take a picture of the sunset at the top like she’s done every year. She wonders what she’s gonna say when her mom asks about it later. Fear creeps into her heart as she realizes the gravity of what they’ve just done. It’s hard to make sense of the rapid beating of her heart, the fresh memory of Paige’s lips molded so perfectly against her own, with the growing panic in her chest that nothing will be the same ever again.
The operator opens the door. “You girls enjoy the ride?” he asks, a smile on his face.
Azzi climbs out in a rush, brushing past the operator without saying a word. Paige takes her time, picking up the water bottle that Azzi forgot and clutching it to her body. “Thanks,” she says tightly to the operator as she exits.
“No problem. Hope your friend feels better. The ferris wheel’s feeling a bit rockier than usually a lot today.”
It takes every bit of strength in Paige to not start crying right then and there.
August 2018
Paige has spent every day of the last year thinking about that kiss on the ferris wheel. And now that, almost exactly a year later, she’s in the car again, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of Azzi’s perfume, she can’t help but think about what Azzi’s hands would feel like tangled in her hair.
When Azzi looks up from her phone and meets Paige’s eyes, she knows there’s no use to try and wrangle any self control out of her body. Forcing herself to sit across from Paige instead of next to her this time doesn’t work. Within moments, she’s across the car, her hands on Paige’s waist. Her lips brush ever so gently against Paige, and she pauses, waiting for the blonde to stop her. When she doesn’t, Azzi swipes her tongue gently across Paige’s bottom lip, and this year their kiss lasts just a little bit longer.
August 2019
“I’m not gonna kiss you.”
Azzi has a date waiting for her at home, a handsome football player who she’s been texting all summer.
Paige looks at her coolly. “Okay.”
They’ve been tense all day. Their parents think it’s the heat wave combined with the stress of school starting. Paige wonders what her dad would say if he knew it was because she’s been thinking about the ferris wheel all day, a mix of dread and anticipation pooling in her stomach.
They’ve spent the entire ride sitting across from each other, their knees just barely touching. And kudos to them, they are better this year - they almost make it the entire ride.
But just 15 feet up from the ground, Azzi is on Paige’s lap, and she doesn’t know how she got there, but she’s not complaining, not when Paige is whimpering against her mouth like this.
They break apart when the operator opens the door, both of their chests heaving, neither of them daring to look at each other.
“This is the last time,” Azzi swears.
“The last time,” Paige repeats.
August 2020
Paige almost didn’t make it this year.
She should be at UConn right now, prepping for her first day of college in a few days. But one text from Azzi, one word saying Please, and she’d bought a plane ticket to Minnesota.
This time, Paige is the one to cross the boundary. This time, Paige fists Azzi’s shirt in her hand and pulls her into a searing kiss. Paige hasn’t said goodbye yet, but she hopes that the way she cups Azzi’s face in her hands and presses their lips together is enough.
Paige pulls away. She doesn’t know she’s crying until Azzi’s wiping at her tears with her thumb.
“I’m gonna miss you,” Azzi whispers.
They’ve spent almost half a year together, starting from when Paige moved in with the Fudds to train during lockdown. She’d stayed for most of the summer too, basically living in Azzi’s skin until her dad had forced her to return home.
“Come to UConn,” Paige urges.
“Paige.”
“Azzi.”
Azzi leans her forehead against Paige’s. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
August 2021
“We’re gonna look so good on the court together.”
Azzi laughs, poking Paige’s cheek affectionately. “You’re insufferable. I’m gonna get so tired of you.”
“Oh yeah?” Paige presses a kiss to Azzi’s cheek, then begins working down her jawline, her lips burning into Azzi’s skin. “You’re gonna get tired of this?”
Azzi arches into Paige’s touch. “Paige,” she pants.
“Does this count as following our tradition?”
“You gotta kiss me on the mouth,” Azzi, always a stickler for rules, insists, but when Paige’s lips move downward to suck that sweet spot on her neck, she quickly shuts up.
August 2021
“I’m not letting you forget this time.” Paige nudges Azzi with her camera.
“Kiss me.”
Paige obeys.
They spend the rest of the ride arguing over who gets to keep the polaroid.
August 2022
Azzi kisses Paige. It’s short and sweet and all too reminiscent of 5 years ago, when they were young and dumb but still in love.
“Marry me?”
Azzi shoves Paige. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“I mean it. Don’t say it unless you have a ring.”
Paige’s eyes are hopeful. “So you’d marry me?”
“I’ve been willing to marry you since we met, you idiot.” Azzi kisses Paige again, and this time they’re smiling against each others lips.
August 2023
“I’m starting to think your NIL money is good for nothing.”
“Didn’t I just buy you a corn dog?”
“I still don’t see a ring.”
Paige rolls her eyes and shuts Azzi up with a kiss.
August 2024
“One more year, baby.”
“Stop reminding me.” Azzi turns away from Paige, her face pulled into a pout.
“It’s gonna be our year.” Paige nestles her chin onto Azzi’s shoulder. “Best backcourt duo in the nation.”
“Don’t jinx us.”
Paige wiggles her fingers into the younger girl’s ribs. “Stop being so negative.”
Azzi laughs, a beautiful sound Paige has memorized for years now. “Kiss me and maybe I’ll stop.”
Paige’s lips are familiar to Azzi. But Azzi wants more. She wants Paige, all of her. Paige needs to hurry up and buy that damn ring.
August 2025
Azzi: Missing you
Azzi: Attachment: 1 Image
Paige: screw this game
Paige: i swear i’m buying a plane ticket rn
Azzi: Stop, your team needs you
Azzi: Save me that kiss for later
Paige: i love u more than anything else in this world
Paige: so much more than basketball
Paige: i will literally leave this locker room rn all u gotta do is say the word baby
Azzi: Don’t worry, I’ll eat enough cookies for the two of us
Azzi tucks her phone into her pocket, stares out the window. Recently the homesick ache in her heart has become more familiar than the feeling of Paige’s lips, and she hates it. This next year of getting used to long distance will be the hardest year of their relationship so far, but she knows it’ll be worth it.
August 2026
She knows it’ll be worth it because Paige finally bought the goddamn ring.
“Will you marry me?”
Azzi sinks into Paige’s arms. 10 years.
“Fuck yeah.”
They kiss.
#paige bueckers#azzi fudd#pazzi#uconnwbb#uconn wbb#wcbb#blurb#fic#fluff#angst#paige x azzi#paige bueckers x azzi fudd
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The Dark Side of ‘Boys Will Be Boys’
I still remember sitting in the principal’s office, knees scraped and uniform dirty, trying not to cry while explaining why I pushed Tommy back on the playground. For weeks, he’d been pulling my hair, chasing me during recess, and ruining my art projects. That day, he’d grabbed my favorite hair ribbon and thrown it in a puddle.
The principal’s response? A warm smile and those words I’ll never forget: “Oh sweetie, he’s only mean because he likes you! Boys don’t know how to show their feelings at this age.”
I was six. That was my first lesson that my discomfort was less important than a boy’s feelings.
And before anyone jumps in with “boys will be boys” or “it’s not that serious” — let me tell you how that lesson played out over the years.
By fourth grade, I stopped telling teachers when boys would snap my bra strap because I was tired of hearing “that means they think you’re pretty!” I learned to be flattered by harassment before I even knew what harassment was.
In middle school, when Jake wouldn’t stop following me between classes and grabbing my backpack, my own mom said, “He probably just doesn’t know how to tell you he has a crush!” So I stopped mentioning it, even when it escalated to him “accidentally” running into me at my locker every day.
“But they’re just boys!” people say. “Stop making everything so serious!”
Okay, let’s talk about how “just boys” grow up.
That same Jake who learned his harassment was “just showing affection”? By high school, he was the guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer at parties. But hey, he “just liked me,” right?
Tommy from first grade? Last I heard, he had multiple harassment complaints at his college. But I bet someone’s still saying “boys will be boys!”
And me? I spent years unlearning the idea that love is supposed to hurt. Years figuring out that someone making me uncomfortable isn’t a compliment. Years understanding that my instincts were right all along — I wasn’t being “too sensitive,” he wasn’t being “sweet,” it wasn’t “just a crush.”
To everyone saying “it’s not that deep” or “stop overthinking” — you’re part of the problem. Because while you’re dismissing these “little” incidents, girls are learning lessons that follow them into adulthood:
When my first boyfriend threw my phone because he was “passionate?” I heard: “He’s only mean because he likes you!”
When my college classmate wouldn’t stop asking me out after ten nos? I remembered: “He just doesn’t know how to show his feelings!”
These aren’t separate issues. They’re the same lesson playing out over years.
We’re teaching girls that love looks like discomfort.
That harassment means attraction.
That their boundaries matter less than boys’ feelings.
That being hurt means being loved.
And to those saying “not all boys are like that” — you’re missing the point. It’s not about all boys. It’s about what we teach ALL girls about what they should accept.
Because that six-year-old girl with scraped knees grew up to be a woman who had to relearn what love actually looks like. Who had to realize that real love doesn’t pull your hair, push you down, or make you cry.
So no, it’s not “just boys being boys.”
It’s not “making a big deal out of nothing.”
It’s not “too serious.”
It’s the first chapter in a book too many girls have to unwrite later.
And maybe if we stopped telling little girls that harassment means love, we’d have fewer women trying to convince themselves that abuse means passion.
#toxic lessons#childhood trauma#women's experience#and that's on period#unlearning trauma#girlhood trauma#its not just kids#boys will be boys#stop normalizing#speaking my truth#girl blogger#blog#girl blog aesthetic#women supporting women#childhood memories#childhood#toxic standards#toxic masculinity#healing together#reality check#solidarity#toxic relationship#toxic relationships#validating#sisterhood#truth bombs#truth bomb
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R.C / HEADCANNONS
pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
summary: what it would be like to date THE Rafe Cameron.
a/n: first ever written work so sorry if it isn’t great! please give me feedback of what i could do better in the future. also sarah and rafe are actually quite close in this.
warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, sorry if there’s errors. a bit of nsfw at the end. mentions of fighting and implied towards death but only for a little bit and not at all descriptive. let me know if there should be any others!
SFW:
- he would spoil you so much.
- he sees your shein wishlist? he’s buying it all.
- you grab a shirt to look at it when shopping with him? he’s grabbing it in your size and even checking for it in other colours.
- you could even so much as be glancing around a shop and your eyes linger a little too long on one item and he’s getting it for you.
- even when you tell him you feel bad having him spend this much money on you he’ll just laugh and say “my sweet girl deserves everything.”
- he’d drop everything for you if you needed him.
- you call him crying? he could be in the middle of an important deal and he’s leaving to come get you.
- he’d fight, and probably kill, for you.
- if a guys getting a little too close at a party and making you uncomfortable Rafe is there immediately.
- he’d pull the guy away from you and just start laying punches after punches into his face until someone just drags the other guy out of the party so it doesn’t get too out of hands.
- then he’d hug you and leave kisses on your forehead while asking if you wanna leave.
- you’d always be at his house.
- which means you’d see Wheezie a lot and she loves you and is always asking you to do things with her.
- it kind of annoys Rafe because he wants to spend every second with you and Wheezie’s ruining that.
- but he also finds it really sweet.
- you’d also be best friends with Sarah.
- as soon as her brother announced he actually is with someone and not just having flings with anyone and everyone she was so excited.
- Sarah knew you had to be amazing to make her brother settle down.
- and you and her got along instantly.
- he’d actually be very affectionate.
- always having his hands on you in one way or another.
- also because he’s very jealous he’d need everyone to know you’re his and his only.
- but he’d always reassure you, especially when overthinking.
- you’d catch him staring at you and you’d ask why, thinking maybe you have something on your face or you look bad but he’d just say, “can’t i look at my gorgeous girlfriend?”
- someone would make a comment about you two saying they’re surprised someone like you could pull someone like Rafe and he’d be furious.
- he’d deal with them and then immediately pick you up and you guys would be leaving.
- as soon as you two were alone he’d reassure you by saying something like “you’re perfect baby, they’re just jealous they don’t have what we have.”

NSFW:
- as mentioned earlier, he gets very jealous.
- and he gets jealous easily.
- so if he sees a guy checking you out while you’re in public he grabs you and puts his hands on your ass while making out with you so the boy knows your Rafe’s.
- he’d then take you home to remind you you’re his.
- or even just in the car if he really couldn’t wait.
- “you’re mine. you know that right?”
- “say it baby, say you’re only mine.”
- knowing damn well you couldn’t talk when he was thrusting into you like that.
- but you had to try anyway for him.
- he’d be big on hickeys.
- he’d like marking you so everyone knows, you are his, and he’d love when you do the same.
- if you still had your v card he’d make sure to be really nice and gentle the first few times and slowly start getting tougher and introducing you to new things.
- always down for a quickie, it doesn’t matter where you are.
- he’d seriously just love you unconditionally and everyone knows he’s whipped for you.
#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe smut#rafe fluff#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron outerbanks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron obx#drew starkey#outer banks#obx#obx fic#obx smut#obx fluff
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IN DEFENSE OF TRAVIS MARTINEZ:
Because I’m sick and tired of seeing travis hate everywhere I go.
“Travis was sexist.”
Did he spout some sexist rhetoric in the beginning of the show? Sure. But it’s important to recognize that: A) he changed, and by season 2 he completely stopped, B) he was a teenage boy in the 1990s, and that kind of rhetoric was normal at the time, C) most of his sexist macho tough guy attitude was a complete act that he likely put on to compensate for his insecurity about his own masculinity, and internalized homophobia. (More on that later.)
(Also let’s be real, Travis is basically one of the girls anyway and I’m tired of pretending he’s not.)
2. “Travis didn’t care about Javi.”
Did we watch the same show??? Granted Travis may have had trouble expressing his feelings (also related to his insecurities about masculinity, likely learned from his father, as well as growing up in a patriarchal and homophobic society), but he cared deeply about Javi. In S1E4, Travis literally DUG UP HIS DAD’S GRAVE, through horror, tears, and vomit, in order to retrieve his ring to give to Javi. When Javi disappeared, Travis kept looking for him every day for months, and never gave up, even when logically it would have seemed impossible for him to still be alive. He comforted and reassured Javi when neither of them drew the card. He cradled Javi’s dead body and ate a bite of his raw heart (which was a metaphor for how much he loved him, and a parallel to Shauna eating Jackie’s raw ear.) Maybe Travis wasn’t always there for Javi in the way he needed, but he absolutely loved him, and it’s important to remember that Travis was also a traumatized, grieving, kid who just lost his dad.
3. “Travis slut-shamed Nat.”
As we are literally shown in the show, Travis was not trying to slut shame her, he asked how many times she had done it because he was embarrassed about the fact that he was a virgin, and worried that she would judge him, or that he wouldn’t measure up because he was more inexperienced than her. When she told him she hooked up with Bobby Farleigh, he did not get mad at her because she slept with another guy (he already knew about that, and was fine with it), he got mad because she hooked up with his bully, and then lied to him about it. I don’t blame Nat for this, she didn’t know about it at the time, and didn’t want him to get mad once she found out, but I also don’t blame Travis for being hurt and embarrassed and upset with her for lying about it.
4. “Travis was just kind of a dick.”
Sure, but so were all of them. He acted like kind of a jerk in the first season. So what? Shauna had an affair with her best friend’s boyfriend, lied to her about it for months, and refused to apologize. Misty tried to drug Coach Ben. Nat faked his brother’s death to him (yeah, she was trying to help him move on, but still not cool). All of them called him “Flex” (y’know, the nickname that was used to bully him for years). None of them are perfect or nice or likable all the time, and that’s ok; that’s the whole point. They’re realistic, complex, flawed, morally gray and sometimes unlikable people. They’ve all done bad things, but nothing Travis did is worse than what anyone else on that show has done. He was a traumatized teen whose dad literally just died. Also, me personally, if everyone around me was constantly calling me the mean nickname that was used to bully me since middle school, I would also probably act like a little bit of a dick.
5. “Travis is a straight man.”
Wrong. (Also not really a valid reason to hate someone… But most importantly, just wrong.)
Travis Martinez is clearly a bisexual.
So many of his issues: the insecurity, the bullying, the macho tough guy act, the whole weird complex about his masculinity, all of it stems (at least partly) from the fact that he’s bisexual and has internalized homophobia. The whole “Flex” thing is just thinly veiled homophobia. The main reason why he got bullied is because Bobby Farleigh spread a rumor about him getting back surgery to better suck his own dick. The unsaid implication there is that he’s a man who sucks dick, which is inherently queer, even if it is his own. If you look even slightly past the most surface level interpretation, it’s pretty obvious that Travis was bullied because of homophobia. His performance of stereotypical toxic masculinity was clearly over compensation for the fact that he doesn’t fit into the box of traditional straight masculinity, and was a reaction to the bullying from his peers, abuse from his dad, and internalized homophobia from growing up in a homophobic and patriarchal society. As the show progresses he starts to unlearn that toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia, and he allows himself to be more vulnerable, emotional, and feminine, and as a result, he becomes stronger, more confident, and more respectful of the people around him.
As for Travis being a man… Is he though???
In season 1, Travis is a man (narratively speaking); there is a clear distinction between Travis/Coach Ben and the girls. However, in season 2, we see a stark shift in how Travis is depicted. The separation between Travis and the girls pretty much ceases to exist. Narratively speaking, there is no distinction made between Travis and the other girls; they are one entity—one hive mind. Instead, the emphasis is now placed on the distinction between Coach Ben and the girls/Travis. When Coach Ben watches the Yellowjackets eat Jackie in horror and disbelief, Travis is right there with them, dressed in ancient greek robes along with the rest of them. In season 2, Coach Ben is the only real Man of the group (Travis has narratively become one of the girls, and Javi is just a boy, not a man) and he is shown staying separate from the rest of the group, and growing more and more uncomfortable with the cultish dynamics, while Travis, on the other hand, becomes more and more integrated with the group, as he falls deeper and deeper into cult beliefs, until he is a full-blown devout Lottie worshipper. Of the three males on the show, he is the only one who actually participates in cannibalism with the other Yellowjackets. Also he lost his virginity to a lesbian.
Whether or not you choose to believe that Travis is transfem (I do) you cannot deny that, at least narratively speaking, Travis is literally just a girl.
6. Travis is a victim.
I don’t know why nobody in this fandom seems to acknowledge this, but Travis is a sexual assault victim and I’m tired of people constantly overlooking and ignoring that fact. In Doomcoming, the girls (excluding Jackie, Nat, Tai, and Van) chased him down, sexually assaulted him, and then tried to kill him. That’s not something that’s up for debate or denial, that is literally canon. Stop pretending it didn’t happen. Stop pretending it wasn’t assault. Stop shaming him and making fun of him for struggling with sex, or not always being able to get it up. That’s a normal trauma response after being assaulted/raped. You guys are literally proving the point. This kind of treatment from society towards masculinity and male victims is just playing into the patriarchy and toxic masculinity, and is exactly what made him act the way he did in season 1 in the first place!
#yellowjackets#travis martinez#travis yellowjackets#travnat#natalie scatorccio#natalie x travis#jackie taylor#shauna shipman#misty quigley#yellowjackets s2#yellowjackets season 2#natalie yellowjackets#javi martinez#javi yellowjackets#doomcoming#transfem travis martinez#bi4bi travnat#yj
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✶ ┄ FIX IT !
summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3
Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.
But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.
So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.
You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.
It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.
Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours.
So it really shouldn’t bother you.
And it didn’t. Not for a while.
Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.
He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.
Maybe both.
What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.
She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).
“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”
You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.
She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.
But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve.
And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.
But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.
A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.
You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.
Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.
Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.
Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.
You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.
Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.
Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—
You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.
You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.
When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.
Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.
Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.
Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.
“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.
The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”
“…What?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”
“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.
It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.
“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.
His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.
Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress.
He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.
You don’t.
“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”
You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.
“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”
“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.
He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.
“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”
“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.
“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”
He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.
Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”
He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.
“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”
You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.
You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him.
“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”
“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.
“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”
You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.
Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely.
He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.
Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.
It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.
But he can’t even do that.
He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.
It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.
You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice.
“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”
“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”
“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.
“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.
The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.
“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.
“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”
“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.
When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.
“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”
Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.
“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”
He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”
“What is?”
“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.
“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”
Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.
It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.
It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.
“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”
He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.
When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.
It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.
And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.
Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.
But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.
You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.
Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.
But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.
“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”
“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.
He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.
“No.”
“…No?”
“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”
“Baby—”
“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”
Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.
“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”
You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.
“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”
“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”
“Steve—”
“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.
He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.
“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”
Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.
It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.
“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.
He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”
He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.
It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break.
You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.
You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it.
Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.
“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.
He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”
#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington angst#stranger things imagine#steve harrington#stranger things#stevie oneshot#published by bug#st oneshots
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Wellllllll…… I just read one Rec from someone and holy. Stepdad Rick isn’t my thing but still hot. I was thinking what if it was Shane instead. Or Daryl. Sneaking around behind Rick’s back. But ugh, Rick is so hot tho. Decisions decisions. More like Dad’s best friend maybe?
now that’s hot as hell. Idk who Dad would be but best friend trope could work for any combination possible I would think… (all of them!? 🙈 short of a orgy, I can’t see either Dixon putting up with Shane even for something like that but hey)
been thinking about this every hour since it appeared in my inbox… (Shane is my guilty pleasure fr. would let him do disgusting things to me)
I think I’m seeing your vision… lemme know what you think💗
PICK YOUR POISON
(Rick & Shane & Daryl x fem!reader)
warnings- 18+, smut, alcohol consumption, smoking, references of sex, multiple partners, the boys are kinda pervs but it’s ok cause ur legal and this is fiction <3 2.1k word count
You open the door to the garage and make your way down the stairs. Not even bothering to slip any shoes on. Your mom keeps the epoxy floors absolutely pristine, so there’s really no reason. Plus, your toenail polish is still a little tacky. Bright, bubble gum pink polish and a silver toe ring adorning your foot. The smell of liquor and smoke has filled the garage. Accompanied by the deep, rugged voices and dry laughs coming from your fathers closest friends.
“You know mom hates it when you smoke in the house.” You say all matter of fact, leaning up against the bar-tops, marble counter. You can feel your tank top strap slipping down your shoulder. But the animalistic looks coming from your dads three closest friends, force you to let it drop. To let them see.
Your father puts his cigarette out in the ash tray on the bar. Rolling his eyes at you. “Well good thing we’re in the garage then.”
You ignore his attitude.
“Mom needs you.”
“For what?”
“To drop her off at Cindy’s.”
He seems irritated. But all five of you can hear the rain. There’s no way any half decent husband should let his wife walk to her monthly book club meeting in this weather.
“Just- keep your mouth shut about the smokes. And grab everyone another drink. Make sure they don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.” You father jokes, ruffling up Daryl’s hair on his way to the door, grabbing his jacket and keys.
You wave an innocent goodbye as you watch him through the garage door windows, backing out of the driveway. Your mother in the passenger seat, smiling sweetly at you.
“Well… whatcha drinkin’?” You ask Rick, who’s sat in the middle. Glass empty, with a lone, melting ice cube clinking around in the bottom.
“Rum and coke.” He answers, licking his lips.
“Spiced?” You ask. A flirty smile playing on your face as you bite your bottom lip.
They’re all staring. Jaws clenched and breathing slowly.
You know what you’re doing. You can tell by the way they’re all looking at you. You can practically see the wheels turning in their brains.
They shouldn’t be thinking this way about their friends daughter. About their best friends little girl. Well… not so little anymore. You’d just turned 21. Hell, they were at the party. Giving you the exact same looks they’re giving you right now.
The ones they definitely shouldn’t be.
But they are.
They’re thinking about your thin, frilly, pyjama shorts, and how they can see the purple g string pulled up over your hips. How they can see your belly ring through the fabric of your tank top, and imagining what it would feel like against their lips as they kiss their way down your stomach. And you know they’re thinking about bending you over the bar counter and taking turns at fucking you until they hear the sound of your dads diesel pulling into the driveway. How you’d have to play pretend for your father, ignoring the fact that your panties are soaking through with three different men’s cum, and maybe even a mix of your own. The salty liquids threatening to drip down your inner thigh as you politely excuse yourself from the garage. Coming up with any bullshit excuse to go lay on your bed and rub your clit until you’re seeing stars. Imagining each of their faces in between your legs, spreading you open and eating you up.
You know they’re thinking it, because you are too. It’s the only thing you can think about in this moment, while pouring Rick a double spiced rum and coke. Taking a sip and then handing it him. Making sure your fingers touch.
When you turn to ask Shane what he wants, he gets up. Insisting that you won’t know how to make an old fashioned. You only just turned 21 after all. You probably haven’t even had one before.
But he’s wrong. They’re your dads favourite and you’d been making them for him since you were 16. But you didn’t tell Shane that. Instead you let him walk around the bar, come up behind you and press himself against your back. Letting a tiny gasp escape at the feeling of his, very hard, cock pressing into your bum. Pushing you even further against the counter. His chest is warm against you. And his hands are big and calloused as he guides your own, pouring the perfect amount of bitters, simple syrup and bourbon over a huge, king sized ice cube that he’d retrieved from the freezer.
Finally, taking a slice of orange, meticulously cut up and organized in little containers on the bar top. It was something your mother was always very fond of; organizing the liquors and the garnishes, ensuring that your father could host a proper poker night or barbecue. Or whatever the fuck they stayed up all night doing in their little man cave. Not knowing that you were upstairs, awake and playing with your favourite vibrator, listening to their rock music through your bedroom floor.
“And then you twist it, like this…” Shane’s lips are actually brushing your ear. And you don’t mean to, but your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. His free hand moves to your waist as he tosses the orange peel in the drink, lifting it up and bringing the cold glass to your lips.
“Try it.” He says. And though you can’t see him because he’s still behind you, you can hear the smirk in his voice.
You take a sip. A small one. Immediately scrunching your face at the two men still sitting across you. Their lips curl into an amused smile as they watch you swallow the amber liquid.
“Not my favourite.” You whisper as Shane leans back. Only for a second before he’s turned you around and trapped you once more, back to the bar this time.
“Well we did forget one thing,” He says, reaching over to a jar on the counter. Maraschino cherries. Your favourite.
“And I know how much you like these.” He teases, referring to all the cherries he caught you adding to your piña coladas at a neighbors pool party only a couple weeks ago.
He dips a single cherry in the drink. Taking it by the stem and lifting it to your mouth. You don’t hesitate in wrapping your lips around it. The bitter taste of the bourbon on the fruit doesn’t last long. A sweet, sugary syrup bleeds over your tastebuds as you bite into the cherry. And a moan manages to escape your throat. It’s quiet. You think maybe it was subtle enough to go unnoticed. But the smile on Shane’s lips and the dry laugh coming from behind you, tell you that it didn’t.
Shane is still pushed up against you, cock strained in his jeans and pressed right against your stomach. His hand gripping your hip and forcing you to stay against the counter. And the way he’s looking down at you. Fuck, the way they’re all looking at you. Watching you start to squirm under their gaze.
“It’s good.” You swallow. Trying to maintain a confident, big girl attitude. But truthfully, you just want them to peel your clothes off, and let you melt into their arms as you cum all over their cocks.
“Daryl’s drink is still empty, sweetheart.” Rick’s gravelly voice pulls you back.
“Right.”
Shane gives your hip one last squeeze before he walks back to his barstool. Next to Rick. They cheers quietly and sip on their drinks. Watching intently as you try to compose yourself.
“What’s your poison?” You turn to the last man, lighting what was probably his second or third cigarette of the night. Glancing up at you and taking a draw. Slowly inhaling and exhaling. And though your mother was not a fan, you fucking loved it. You wanted to crawl onto his lap and have him blow the smoke right between your lips as you rode his cock, letting the other two men watch and touch themselves to the sight of you getting off on another guy.
But you didn’t.
“Just a beer, sunshine.” He pushes his empty glass forward for you. You grab it and put it in the dishwasher. Grabbing a brand new, frosted mug from the freezer.
“Which one?”
“Bud’s fine.”
You grab a bottle and skillfully pour it into the mug, coming around the bar this time to hand it to him. Intentionally placing yourself between him and Rick, reaching over and setting the glass in front of him.
To no one’s surprise, you feel a warm hand on the small of your back. Rick’s fingers tracing dangerously close to the thin band of your panties.
“Those are really bad for you, y’know.”
You get bold again. Stepping onto the foot rest of Rick’s barstool, and taking a seat right on his lap. The hand on your back only helping guide you on to him. Quickly finding its way around your waist as you make yourself comfortable.
Daryl only grunts. Hiding a smile at your silly comment. He’d seen you smoke. Hell, he’d snuck out of multiple dinner parties to have one with you.
“You gonna share?” You ask.
Hesitantly he hands it over, and you take it with two fingers. Taking a long drag in and then turning to face Rick again, before you slowly exhale. Trying to focus the smoke onto his lips more than anything.
“What the hell would your father think if he could see you right now?” Shane asks, leaning back in his chair and palming the hard on, still evident in his jeans.
“Think he’d probably try and beat you’re asses.” You say. And while you’re answering Shane, your focus is solely on Rick. The scruff on his face. His bright blue eyes, taunting you and begging you to lean in. Just an inch closer so that he can catch your lips.
“Think he’d win?” Rick asks, glancing down at your own lips.
“Not a chance.” You smile.
He closes the space between you, and you taste rum on the tongue that traces yours. Rick’s hand going to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you blindly try to put the cigarette out on the ashtray. You start to move. Trying to maneuver your position so that you’d have a leg on either side of him, straddling his very apparent bulge. But right as you start to moan against his mouth, you hear the truck pull up and park. Practically jumping off of Rick and standing in between him and Daryl’s barstools. Fixing your hair as the heat rises to your cheeks. The men chuckle at your flustered appearance. Waiting for their friend to enter through the side door of the garage.
“Hi dad.” You say, smiling politely and pulling your tank top down to cover the strip of skin visible where it had previously rode up.
“Hey, hun. Glad to see they weren’t too much trouble for ya.” You father aproaches and slaps a hand on Shane’s back. Sitting down next to him and grabbing the pack of smokes from his jacket pocket.
“Y’wannanother drink, daddy?” You ask. Daryl clears his throat. And you see Ricks eyes go wide as Shane tries to hide his smile.
“Please. Old fashioned, darling. Y’want some of that pink stuff we found last week? Bubbly… something or other. It’s in the fridge.”
You watch Shane the whole time that you make the old fashioned. Clearly showing him that you knew exactly how your dad liked it. Carefully placing the cocktail on the counter in front of them.
“Thanks doll.” Your dad says, continuing to smoke his cigarette. Reaching over the counter and handing one to Rick who lights it. Watching you the whole time. Tendrils of smoke, floating up to the ceiling of the garage. You turn around. Bending over and being sure to stay searching for the bottle of rosé about thirty seconds longer than you really needed to. You pour a glass as the men discuss what the next move was. What they should do for the night. Considering it’s still a work night, and they all have a supply run pretty early in the morning.
“You wanna play some cards, sweetie?” Your dad asks. You scrunch your nose at him, taking a nice long sip of your sparkling wine.
“What? You got somewhere better to be?” Shane teases.
You huff a semi-annoyed breath, looking around for a spare stool. Even though you already knew there were only 4. Ricks eyes glimmer as he pats his left thigh, inviting you back on.
To your surprise, your dad pays you no mind, already starting to shuffle the deck of cards as you hesitantly take your seat back on top of Rick. Loving the way his hand curls around your thighs and tugs you even further on top of him. And the the way that Shane looks a little jealous that he hadn’t offered first. And you’re especially loving the way Daryl shifts on his stool just the tiniest bit closer, so that his leg grazes yours every now and then.
“All right, here’s the rules…” You hear your dad starts to explain, already dealing you each some cards. But you don’t hear him. You don’t even look in his direction. You’re way too focused on the taste of Rick that lingers on your lips, and the way your clit is actually fucking pulsing. Begging for attention. And truthfully, your mind can’t help but wander, thinking about what might have happened if your dad had taken any longer to get back home.
part 2
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(I’m picturing readers dad as Tobin in Alexandria. Someone like that at least. With a Carol-esque mother. But picture whoever you’d like! Just thought I’d share what I was kinda thinking…)
taglist - @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker
#rick grimes#rick grimes smut#rick grimes fanfiction#rick grimes x y/n#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x y/n#shane walsh x you#shane walsh x reader#shane walsh smut#shane walsh fanfiction#smut#rickyl smut#rickyl x reader#dbf!rick#dbf!daryl#dbf!shane#dads best friend trope#pick your poison
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