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requiemforthepoets · 8 days ago

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you just pulled a verstappen! 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you played a sim racing before, but not really on an actual sim racing setup like lando’s. so when you had the chance, you decided to try it out.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, fluff, and a little bit of cursing

WORD COUNT: 820

AUTHOR’S NOTE: found this on my drafts. i have a lot of lando one shots, but never really posted it bc i think it was poorly written, so i decided to fix this one up and post it. i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

Your and Lando’s apartment was unusually quiet. Lando had been out all day, caught up in a string of meetings, and being alone in a big apartment, the boredom had started to creep in. You sighed, glancing over at Lando’s pristine sim racing setup, which sat there like a tempting invitation calling out for you. It wasn’t like you had not played sim racing before, but using his rig, specifically with Lando’s custom settings and all his tweaks? That was something else entirely.

“Eh, why the hell not?” You muttered to yourself with a mischievous grin.

You quickly booted-up Lando’s setup, and you were off. You found yourself in the middle of a tense Grand Prix, the roaring of the virtual engines filling up the headphones as you become very absorbed with the race. Time flew by, and you were too focused to even notice when Lando came home.

“Hey, baby! I’m back!” Lando’s voice echoed faintly from the hallways as he called back to you, and you never responded. All you could hear and think about was the hairpin turn coming up on the circuit, and nailing the turn. “Babe, where are you?” He called out to you again, but you were still glued to the screen, the intensity of the race drawing all of your attention.

A few seconds later, Lando still got no answer from you. So when he checked every room in the apartment, and saw that you were inside his gaming room all along, he entered immediately, but when he saw you, he stopped dead in his tracks. There you were, fully immersed in sim racing, eyes locked on the screen with his headphones on and hand deftly handling the steering wheel. He blinked, half in disbelief, before grinning like a little kid on christmas morning.

“Are you on my sim setup right now?” He asked, voice full of shock, but you were too busy overtaking another car to reply.

“Okay, that was a decent corner,” Lando said with a playful smirk as he walked over to you, leaning against the back of the chair. “Not bad at all.” He added, folding his arms, and watching in awe as you navigated through the pack of cars.

You heard him, of course, but you were in the zone. The next thing you knew, you pulled off a move that would have made Max proud, sliding past two cars with precision that even caught Lando off guard.

“Whoa, that was a Verstappen move!” Lando exclaimed, wide-eyed. “You just did a Verstappen! Are you sure you don’t want to join F1? Because honestly, what the hell was that?!”

A smirk just tugged at the corner of your lips, definitely proud of yourself, but you remained focused, determined to finish the race without breaking concentration. Lando couldn’t help but laugh at your intense expression.

“Alright, I need to record this one,” Lando chuckled, pulling out his phone. “No one’s gonna believe me if I told everyone on Thread that my girl just pulled a Verstappen move, unless I post it.”

“Look at this! My girl’s out here stealing my setup and driving like she’s been on F1!” Lando began as he started filming, making sure to capture the moment as you powered through the final lap, and zooming in on your face, grinning the whole time. “Guys, I’m telling you, I’m not really making this up. She’s actually faster than me on some of these corners!”

You barely heard him as you crossed the finish line, finishing in P1, and the sound of the crowd roaring through the headphones as you finally relaxed in the chair. You let out a squeal of happiness and looked over at Lando, who was still recording and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Okay, what was that?” He laughed at you, turning off the camera. “I leave for a few hours, and suddenly you’re doing Verstappen-level moves on my rig? Are you secretly practicing whenever I’m not home?”

“Maybe I’m just naturally talented, ever think of that?” You looked at him smugly, and wiggled your eyebrows as you teased him.

“You know what?” Lando grinned at you, gently pulling you out of the seat and wrapping his arms around you. “I believe it. I’m just saying, if McLaren ever needs a backup driver, you should really think about it.”

“Babe, that’s Pato’s job, and I won’t take that away from him,” you joked, causing Lando to laugh, and you leaned into his embrace. “I’m just kidding! But…I might steal your sim setup more often.”

“Deal,” Lando chuckled, kissing your forehead. “Just don’t make me look too bad, alright?”

“No promises.” You said cheekily, then grinning up at him.

“Alright, alright,” he smiled at you. “Now where’s my kiss.” You leaned in, and kissed him softly on the lips.

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marlenesluv · 5 months ago

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lando + his pasta loving girlfriend

note: gonna be honest, i am craving pasta and have no motivation to order some so i’m putting that hunger into this headcannon, lol. (posting this from a few nights ago…alright, i guess i really like pasta. i was a little tipsy too, so mind the misspells if there are any i didn’t catch.)

type: head-cannon, a little smau

headcannon masterlist here -> click here!

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

۵ lando knew that when you two started dating that you loved pasta. you ordered it on the first date, second date, third date. you would have ordered it on the fourth date, but that date was the one where you made dinner. and you made…pasta.

۵ some of his friends, mainly max, thought this was a tiny bit odd, but who was he to judge?

۵ lando was one of the pickiest eaters on this planet.

۵ and it seems that his girlfriend, no, soulmate was too.

۵ lando was infamous for being a picky eater.

۵ sushi? no. vegetables? only because he had to. if he had it his way, it’d be pizza, pasta, and ice cream 24/7.

۵ you were the same way. some healthy food here and there of course, but pasta was truly the best.

۵ after you had been going to the mclaren paddock for around six months, the kitchen staff knew your preference.

۵ they knew you loved pasta. you always ate whatever they made though and never complained.

۵ but lando was loud. very loud.

۵ so if you came over to the table he, oscar, and lily were at eating, he would ask what you got. you told him and he would loudly say “no pasta today!? where is my girlfriend??”

۵ lily would laugh and oscar would roll his eyes and laugh a little.

۵ at this point, a few of the workers would notice your wide eyes and red face from lando embarrassing you.

۵ lando meant no harm, really.

۵ he just didn’t realize how loud he was.

۵ from that moment on, one of the kind older ladies working at mclaren would make you pasta.

۵ everytime you came in, she had a different type of pasta waiting for you.

۵ which really just warmed your heart.

۵ even for your birthday that lando hosted for you, there was pasta. lots of pasta.

۵ he invited his f1 friends, and of course carlos homemade some pasta (so did yuki).

۵ charles bought you a pasta plushie that alexandra had found and knew you had to have.

۵ overall…lots of pasta.

۵ your fans that literally loved your pasta posts as well.

۵ almost every photo dump you had, there was pasta.

۵ and lando was very supportive of this.

۵ hell, he was jealous of how much pasta you got to eat.

۵ his trainer had to restrict his pasta intake, only allowed for special occasions.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 327,148 others

y/n.user: the love of my life and lando🍝❤️

view comments…

landonorris: wow. i am extremely offended but not really surprised

y/n.user: i’m sorry, i’m kidding. i love you more than pasta

landonorris: how much more????

y/n.user: …..like, 2% more

landonorris: i’ll take it

f1wags: yeah, she’s our iconic pasta mom🫶

user2: my favorite couple 🥹🥹🥹

mclarenfans48: the picture of lando and y/n hugging 🫠 they’re the cutest

pastarecipes: goddess of pasta

y/n.user: i’m not sure if i’m more honored to be called a goddess, or that you think i’m the goddess of PASTA

pastarecipes: omggg i didnt expect you to respond AH ily

user7: that pasta looks DELICIOUS

oscarpiastri: you got your pasta fix of the day then?

y/n.user: ya😎

danielricciardo: so she won’t be cranky when we see them tonight ✊

y/n.user: that comment is gonna cost you a bowl of pasta 💅

danielricciardo: DAMNIT

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

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always-just-red · 4 months ago

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I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. “Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything.

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

#🖋rach is actually writing #zayne x reader #zayne #love and deepspace #lads zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #lads #lnds #l&ds #li shen #lads x reader #zayne x mc

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tales-from-elysivm · 8 months ago

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★。／can i be a hero too?＼。★

ask: "I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though"

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 1,196

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo but that comes with the territory

notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)

! this is a repost from my other blog !

‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’

Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.

It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway

‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’

‘The place smells like shit too.’

‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.

‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’

Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.

‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’

[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?

‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’

Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk.

‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.

She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’

No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!

However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”.

‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’

Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:

‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’

Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really.

Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!

Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].

‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’

Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.

‘But why?’

‘’Cause it’s annoying.’

[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins.

The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon.

(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)

(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)

For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.

For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school.

But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow.

‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’

And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.

He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be?

Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.

He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras.

‘Yeah, whatever.’

i really enjoyed writing this!

let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.

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monzabee · 2 years ago

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how you get the girl – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and your boyfriend Charles attend a gala for a friend and run into Harry Styles – who happens to be your ex.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of a past break-up, jealousy, possessive charles, angst? (only if you squint, or maybe not I don’t know), charles being charles, google translate French, anger?

Request: “Can I request a Charles fanfic with angst? Maybe famous singer reader used to date someone really famous like Harry styles and they run into Harry and Charles is really jealous and acting up/mad?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this is my first time writing a fic, so all feedback is welcome and appreciated. i liked the idea that the anon named harry so i used him, but also i had to include taylor swift some way because she is the literal best. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” You sigh, fixing the way the neckline of your dress looks and meeting the eyes of your boyfriend through the mirror. “I know you’d rather be relaxing tonight than entertaining people.”

Charles smiles softly as he keeps his eyes focused on yours, the green in his eyes shining just a little bit brighter due to the afternoon sun shining through the hotel room window. He abandons his place on the edge of the bed and comes closer to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Are you trying to convince me to stay back, or convince yourself, chérie?”

His question brings a mischievous smile on your lips and you shrug your shoulders with faux innocence as you lean your head back on the Monegasque’s shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, chéri.” Your use of the pet name he taught you when the two of you first went on a date makes him let out a laugh – well, you don’t know if it is because of your use or your pronunciation or your use of the word in general, but you’re hoping for the latter.

“Well, I think you are.” He takes your hand in his and slowly moves you from your place in front of the mirror. “And it’s not going to work, because you—”

“Promised Helen we’d be there. I know, I know.” You huff, shaking out of his grasp and fixing his bowtie with a small frown on your face as you mumble, “I thought you F1 drivers would be into breaking the rules, but no, I had to find the only decent one.”

Charles chuckles as he places his hands back onto your waist as you continue your mission with a relentless sense of seriousness. “Aw, you think I’m decent?”

An urgency to smile snakes up onto your lips because of his question but you try to refrain yourself from doing so by twisting your lip, “Shut up, Charles.”

“I think you’re decent as well,” he takes a moment to think with an exaggerated expression, “pretty, too.”

You smile at your handiwork as you pat his bowtie twice and place your hands on the sides of your hips. “Is this your way of saying I look nice?”

He shakes his head and starts walking you towards the door, picking up your coat and bag, and ignoring your protests along the way. “But, yes of course. However, we need to go right now if you don’t want to make Helen angry at you for being late.”

“At me?” You ask, confused.

Charles laughs. “Well, yes, chérie. She loves me too much to get mad at me. You’ll have fun once we go inside.”

By the time the two of you arrive at the gala, Charles has managed to uplift your mood (mostly by promising you pizza and sweets after the two of your leave the event). When you get to Royal Albert Hall, Helen welcomes you with a big smile and open arms. The three of you decide to grab drinks together at the bar and talk about the event, your latest recording deal, Charles’ upcoming season, and Helen’s new client who is a “twat-waffle in skinny jeans, but don’t worry about me, honey, I’ve seen worse.” She leaves the two of you to welcome newcomers, who are probably looking at her to congratulate her on the event. You place your glass on the bar and turn to face Charles, who is looking at you with a small smirk on his face.

You sigh exaggeratedly and tilt your head to the side. “Fine, you were right, this is fun.”

He matches your sigh, although with a lighter tone to it. “I know, I love being right.” He quickly finishes the rest of his drink and gets up from his place to offer you his hand. “Now, chérie, allons-nous danser?” Shall we dance? You nod your head, giggling as you take his hand and allow him to pull you onto the dance floor. With the alcohol coursing through your veins, you think this might be the perfect night.

You and Charles dance through what feels like a hundred songs, but in reality, you lose the count after the third slow-paced song because the DJ decides he’s had enough of the slow songs for the evening and moves onto the fast-paced ones. Both of you jump up and down to the rhythm of the music as best as you can in your choice of heels for the evening, and Charles is there with you to do the same. He nudges your shoulder and wiggles his eyebrows when the DJ decides to play one of your recent songs, not shy to let the people around you know that it is your song. “That’s my girlfriend’s song!” he says, “Yes! It’s the new one!”

After the previous song finishes, the two of you decide to retire for a bit, walking out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. You turn to Charles when you hear him chuckling and find him shaking his head. “Hey, what are you laughing at?”

“You look like a tomato, mon amour.” He’s quick to add, “A very cute one at that.”

You let out a shocked gasp, swatting lightly at his chest to cease his laughs. “It’s not funny! I never make fun of you after your races, even if you do look like a tomato.”

“That is not true, and you know it.” His laughter continues, making you join him and soon after both of you are laughing uncontrollably; with you leaning against the railing of the balcony and him with his arms placed on either side of you to cage you in. After your laughter dies down, leaving you both in heaving breaths in to calm yourselves, he shrugs off his jacket and gently places it onto your shoulders.

You gaze up at him, softly smiling through your lashes. “Thank you, my love.”

You press your lips against the corner of his mouth, but he is quick to capture your lips in his, and his eyes are the last thing before you close yours as he starts kissing you. His hands quickly start moving and he drags them up your body to cradle your face between his hands as he deepens the kiss. You let out an involuntary whimper, in which he responds by gently tugging at your lower lip. In an attempt to bring him closer, you slip your fingers through the belt loops of his dress pants, which thankfully is not occupied by a belt. Charles’ response is to bring your face even closer as he keeps kissing you. The two of you don’t realise the sound of footsteps coming from behind you.

“Oh, God, sorry.” A voice interrupts, and you quickly separate from each other, albeit a little bit unwillingly. You inhale deeply to regulate your irregular breathing, and let out a gasp as your eyes fall onto the intruder. Just as you are about to open your mouth, he beats you to it. “I can’t believe it, hi Y/N, it’s been ages!”

Although Charles’ eyebrows furrow, he keeps his gaze focused on you only to turn around to face the intruder once you say, “Hi, Harry, it’s been a while!” He gives him a once over, keeping his hands on your waist as the two of you talk about the lost time. And yes, while Charles can be a jealous man – just like any other guy in a relationship who is as besotted with their partner as he is with you – he never considers himself to be possessive. He even likes Harry’s music, he mostly encounters the songs at the paddock before a race or after while doing media stuff, but he doesn’t have any issues regarding his music or him in general just because he is dating you because he is secure in your relationship to know just how much you love and respect him and the same goes for you. But standing there with you leaning against him while talking to your ex-boyfriend, yes he know he is your ex-boyfriend like the rest of the world thanks to your very public break-up, he just wants to take you away from there any to anywhere where the two of you can be alone.

You leap off the railing you were leaning against when you feel Charles’ hands tightening on your waist and move one of your hands to cover his as you give him a slight squeeze. “This is Charles, my boyfriend.”

He watches as you give him a polite smile and attempts to do the same, but it reality his probably comes-off as a strained one. Harry offers him a handshake as he smiles at him, “Hello, nice to meet you.” And then, he watches as the Brit turns his attention once against to you.

“We missed you at the awards this season, you didn’t attend any of them!” Harry chuckles, shaking his head a little.

You shrug and answer him with the same polite smile on your face. “Well, you know me, never been fan of the award shows in the first place.”

Charles knows this, of course he does, because whenever someone starts to ask you about award season in the first place, you let them know that the awards are not the reason you write songs in the first place – the fans are. He tunes most of your conversation out as his insecurities take over his thoughts, he thinks it is funny in a way because your relationship might be the only one where he has felt like he could be himself without worrying about what you might think. Just as he is about the calm his fears by the logical side of his brain reasoning and telling him that he should probably stop acting like a fool, he hears Harry asking you about a song on your album which makes him throw all the rationality he has out the metaphorical window.

“I-uh, I listened to your new album, it was very good.” Harry says.

A wide smile finds a place on your face. “Oh, thank you, Harry! It’s nice to hear that.”

“Yeah, yeah. I liked that one song the most, what’s it called, How You Get the Girl?” He thinks quietly for a split second. “Oh whatever – it was very good. But tell me the truth, was it or was it not about me?”

“Sorry, can’t tell you that, it’s a secret.” You laugh. And he laughs. And Charles only watches the scene before him without being able to say anything because he is swarmed by all the thoughts he tried so hard pushing out of his head coming back. You must’ve notice his drastic change in mood because you excuse the two of you saying that you’re feeling a little bit cold.

“Oh sure, it was nice seeing you again.” Harry smiles at you, and then addresses Charles, “It was also nice meeting you, Charles. Take care of my girl, eh?”

“You too, Henry.” Charles replies, without filtering his response in his head and hangs his head low to avoid any awkwardness.

You wait until the Brit leaves the balcony and then focus on the man in front of you, “Charles–” you start, but he cuts you off with a low voice.

“Can we just go home?” He inhales deeply. “Please.”

Needless to say, the car ride home is quiet and tense. Charles acts like he doesn’t care, but you know deep inside that he is bothered by what happened and is probably overthinking the entire situation. The one thing you are grateful for is the fact that you didn’t drive to the venue but instead opted for a car service, thinking that you’d both be drunk by the time event ended. However in reality, neither of you are drunk and you are fairly sure Helen is going to send you a very angry text the next morning because you left early. When the driver announces that you’ve arrived at the hotel, Charles thanks him before exiting the car and you do the same before you lean over to open your door, but Charles is quicker than you and he does it for you.

He is quiet the entire way up to your hotel room, but he has an arm around you and you place your hand right on top of his in an attempt to sooth whatever negative emotions he is feeling at the moment. He is also quiet when you get to your room, and he helps you pull off your coat and his jacket underneath the coat. He smiles for a split second, seeing his oversized jacket on your frame, but the seriousness returns as he helps you out of it.

“Charles,” you say his name, “please talk to me.”

“I’m okay, chérie.” He sighs and places a small kiss to you forehead. “I’m going to take a shower before bed, okay?” He leaves before giving you an opportunity to speak, and you are left behind, thinking about the last time he called you that pet name a few hours ago, and how he was smiling.

Instead of pushing him to talk about his feelings you decide to let him cool down, hoping that he would be more open to having a conversation about what happened after his shower. So, you take of your shoes and your dress – although you struggle to find the zipper for a while – and you take of your make up on the small vanity the hotel provided for you after you put on your pyjamas for the night. By the time Charles is out of his shower, you are waiting for him sat on the edge of the bed, playing with your fingers.

“I thought you’d be sleeping by now.” He mumbles, weaving his hands through his wet hair.

You can’t help the small frown etching on your face. “We never go to bed angry at each other.”

You can see the change in his eyes, but even though his eyes soften at the sight of you, his tone is firm when he tells you, “I’m not angry at you, Y/N.”

“See, I find it hard to believe that right about now.” You mumble, your eyes falling on your lap for a second.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Just go to sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.”

“What? Why?” You ask, your voice wavering at the last syllable. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to go over some statistics in the living room.” He doesn’t look at you, or let you protest. He picks up his computer from the abandoned backpack in the corner of the room and presses another light kiss to your forehead before going into the living room to try to get rid of the anger by working it off.

And thus, you try to go to sleep – mainly because you know just how stubborn Charles is. His mother always tells you stories about when he was a kid and refused to go to bed in his pyjamas because he didn’t want to take off his karting suit. But you see how much he’s stubborn every single day, when he makes you get out of bed in crack-dawn of the day because you told him you wanted to start exercising with a “no, mon amour, you said you wanted to start running!”, or when he makes you eat your vegetables because “you can’t live off of chicken nuggets for the rest of your life, you’re in your twenties!”. But most importantly, you see how stubborn he is every time he pushes himself to be better; a better man, a better son, a better driver and even a better boyfriend. So, it breaks your heart to think that he is outside the doors of the bedroom, alone and contemplating things he shouldn’t have to because he knows just how much you love him. So, you get out of the bed, which isn’t very hard in the first place because it feels too empty and cold without Charles in it, and you march your way through the bedroom doors and into the living room where a certain green-eyed Monegasque driver is hunched over his computer in the low light.

He looks up and his eyes go wide when he spots you, sleep evident in your eyes and there is a permanent pout on your lips. There is a silent communication between the two of you as he pushes his chair slight off the table for you to place yourself on his lap and consequently wrapping yourself around his sitting figure.

“Chérie, you should be sleeping, it’s late.” He speaks in a low voice, encouraging you to go to sleep, but you know him well enough to read between the lines.

Your voice comes of muffled because you cuddle against the side of his neck. “I couldn’t sleep because someone refuses to talk about his feelings and made me become accustomed to his cuddles over the past year and a half.”

“Mon amour,” he sighs, “I am fine, you don’t have to worry about me. Okay?”

There isn’t any emotional strain in his voice, unlike before, but you still don’t like the fact that he refuses to acknowledge his feelings. So instead of pushing, you pick your head up again and focus on his green eyes, “You called me by my name, and you never call me by my name unless I’ve done something wrong.”

“That’s not true.” His voice comes off as a whisper this time.

“It is and you know it.” You untangle one of your arms from around his neck to cradle his jaw and let your finger wander around. “Please tell me what I’ve done wrong so that I can fix it.” You think for a moment. “S'il vous plait.” Please.

Charles lets out a frustrated breath and tightens his arms around your frame – involuntarily, or maybe not, but who cares, really? “It’s mine,” He grumbles.

“What is?” You ask, tilting your head with genuine curiosity.

“The song.” Now it is Charles’ turn to pout. “It’s my song, you wrote it for me. I was there when you recorded it and you told me so.”

“Oh, Charles.” You coo, bringing your other hand up to his face and gently caressing his face as you straighten yourself up on his lap. “It is about you, my love, he was just joking.”

You let out a chuckle as you hear him mumble, “Well, it wasn’t funny to me.”

“Is this about more than the song?” You ask, continuing the movement of your hands. You smile as he lets out a dissenting mumble, “Good, because I would hate it if you thought I have eyes for anyone other than you.”

“You would?” He mumbles, leaning into your touch.

“Oh yes, I would be very upset.” You nod, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. “And Charles?” You ask.

“Yes, chérie?” He asks right back, his eyes not leaving yours even for a moment.

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”

“It’s not your fault,” His eyes become serious for a second again, but they soften at the sight of you quickly. “Don’t blame yourself, chérie.” He mumbles as he kisses you softly on your lips. “Okay?”

“But still,” You mumble, “I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”

He sighs, but it is not a sad sigh like before. Which makes you think it is an improvement. “I’m sorry I can’t write songs about you.”

“What?” You ask, voice shaky. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not– I can’t put my feelings into words that way.” His hands occupy themselves with the string of your pyjama pants.

“I don’t need you to write me songs, Charles, and I don’t want you to change.” You press soft kisses around his face, making him smile involuntarily. “I love you just the way you are, you stubborn stubborn man.” You thing he’s about to say something, but can’t finish your train of thought because suddenly you’re being lifted off the chair and you’re in the air. You let out a shriek, “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed,” Charles replies, and rolls his eyes as your expression changes. “To sleep,” he emphasises the second word, “méchante fille” naughty girl. You laugh as he puts you back on your side of the and tucks you in before turning off the lights and getting into the bed himself. He is quick to pull you towards his arms and cuddle you under his weight, which you’ve become accustomed to and helps you sleep better. “Go to sleep, mon amour.” He kisses you on your forehead again.

“Charles?” You ask into the night, and continue once he lets out an affirmative hum. “Je t'aime.” I love you.

“Je t'aime aussi, mon amour.” I love you too, my love. You hear him say as you’re falling to sleep. “Tu es l'amour de ma vie.” You’re the love of my life.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #harry styles makes an apperance

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choslut · 14 days ago

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i spent all day fighting taking out and washing my hair so this is my little present to myself. for all the magical black girls out there who also have a tendency to fistfight their hair on washdays, this one’s for you <3

when you first ask geto to help you take out your braids, he’s admittedly a little confused. it takes you taking out half of your head for him to finally get the process, but when he finally does…

… he works miracles.

it may be because he himself is very well acquainted with the world of haircare given his own waist-length silky black locks, but when you explain the ins and outs of black haircare to him, he’s nothing short of intrigued. it’s comical really, watching your 6-foot-something of a boyfriend sit cross-legged on the floor next to you as you show him first how to remove the hair, then detangle the roots before spraying it with a little bit of water to rehydrate it.

“and you do this… with every one?”

“yes, sugu. it’s a pretty long process.”

“i’ll never take your hair for granted again.”

by the second time you ask him to help take out your hair a couple weeks later, you’re surprised he actually remembers how to do it. he sits next to you on the couch, pick and spray bottle in hand, concentration etched into his features as he delicately unravels the braid.

by the third time, months after the first, suguru is asking you if you need help taking out your hair. it turns out he actually enjoys the activity.

“it’s a good way for us to spend time together,” he muses quietly, purple irises fixed on untangling a certain knot. “plus, it gives me a chance to learn more about you.”

that small quip turns into a full blown conversation, and you tell him everything about your hair, from when you were a little girl sitting in between your mother’s legs, eyes watering as she combed at your scalp relentlessly, to the teenage struggles of fixing your edges just right. some of the stories make him laugh, some of them make him feel sad, but all of them give him a larger insight into who you are, what made you into the beautiful girl he’s willing to give his life to.

throughout all of it, all suguru can do is stare at you and listen on in wonder. it’s an amazing thing, the stories hair can carry, and after he’s finally finished helping you take it out, he kisses you on the forehead.

“you’re beautiful,” he whispers, large hands playing with the freshly detangled afro cradling your face. “teach me how to wash it next.”

a/n : STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP i love him ☹️☹️

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x black reader #black reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #suguru geto fluff #x black reader #anime #anime x reader #anime x black!reader #anime fluff

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viinchester · 2 months ago

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Shape Of You

Warnings: Mentions of an injury and that it's being taken care of (nothing too graphic), Depictions of Sexual Content (Minors DNI!), Rough/Intense Sexual Content, could be considered Dubcon by coercion (not really imo, but just to be on the safe side), Themes of Possession and Objectification

Fandom: Dexter (TV Show/Series)

Pairing: Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper x F!Reader

Request: by Anon

Summary: Brian takes care of your injury after you've taken a nasty fall, however you can't help but feel like something's off about the situation. Unaware of his dark thoughts and oblivious to the deeper manipulation at play, you clear your mind by focussing on his comforting presence, and things quickly get heated.

Word Count: 3.271

My Masterlist

A/N: For some reason, I really struggled with this.😬 I rewrote it like 3 or 4 different times entirely, I hope it's not too noticable.😅 I was also unsure when exactly to refer to Brian as "Rudy" so I tried to only do it whenever the writing directly represents the Readers thoughts about him.💕 I still had a ton of fun writing this and I hope I could do the idea that anon had justice and that you guys like it!🙏🏼 I would really appreciate reposts/comments with feedback.👀 Feel free to request stuff, I always enjoy getting some inspiration to keep the writing going.💙

Brian knelt beside you, his touch gentle as he pressed the damp cloth to your leg. The sharp sting of the cut made you wince, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the embarrassment of how it had happened.

You had tripped, just like you seemed to always do. This time, it had been over something small, a simple crack in the sidewalk, causing you to suddenly lie on the ground, blood welling up and staining your skin.

Heat rose in your cheeks in frustration at yourself and the fact that Brian now had to take care of you, but he was ever calm and didn't seem the least bit bothered.

Not saying much, he offered you a soft smile and then continued tending to your cut, his focus entirely on the injury itself.

He’d always been good at this type of stuff, fixing things while being composed and so in control — qualities you usually greatly admired in him.

But as you sat there in that moment, feeling the warmth of his touch, something didn’t seem right.

You knew you should be glad.

Here was your boyfriend, cleaning up your mess, like he so often did. You were fortunate, really, to have someone like him — patient and ready to swoop in when you inevitably fell again. So though you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off, you did your best to simply brush it aside.

After all, this was Rudy. Sweet, dependable Rudy, who always seemed to know exactly what to do and was there for you whenever you stumbled — literally and figuratively.

And even if his fingers lingered just a little longer than necessary on your skin right now, it likely didn't mean anything. The way in which he inspected your bloodstained leg with a look of concentration reassured you further.

“You really should be more careful,” Brian suddenly said, his voice low and soothing. His gentle words and focused demeanor helped ease your nerves.

You chastised yourself for ever thinking twice about his actions. Your boyfriend was simply trying to watch out for you, that's all. Why were you even doubting him in the first place? Maybe it was just the pain from the cut or the embarrassment of tripping again. Or maybe it was the whole thing with the Ice Truck Killer going on at the moment.

Yes, that had to be it. It had probably made you more paranoid than you'd initially thought.

But you had absolutely nothing to worry about, because the sweet man kneeling in front of you was nothing like that monster.

Forcing yourself to relax a little, you sighed.

"I know," you mumbled, as he expertly bandaged your leg, secretly marveling at how steady his hands were.

It was easy to forget how awkward you felt in moments like this, with him so effortlessly tending to you. You crooked a smile at him then, but Brian didn’t meet your eyes right away. He was too busy inspecting his work, a subtle smirk of his own tugging at the corner of his mouth as he secured the bandage.

To you, he seemed satisfied with his patch job, but inside, something else simmered. He felt an almost childlike joy about the way you sat there, so vulnerable, your leg limp in his hands.

He liked seeing you this way — hurt, but not too hurt. Just enough to need him, to be reliable on him.

It stirred something deep inside of him.

“There,” he said, leaning back a little to admire the bandage. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for a split second, something unreadable passed between you, but it was gone almost as quickly as it came. “Does that feel better?”

You looked down at your leg and inspected the professionally wrapped bandage. It was not too tight and not too loose. It was perfect. Just like him.

Tension oozing from your body, you nodded and looked up at your boyfriend again, smiling earnestly. “Yeah, much better. Thank you.”

His smile widened just a fraction, not quite reaching his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m here to patch you up,” he said with a lightness in his voice that made you feel a little better. “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

The way he said it — his voice smooth and promising — made you smile, comforted by his presence.

Rudy really loved you, didn't he? He was always right there when you needed him.

He stood up and offered you his hand, and despite the slight apprehension earlier, you eagerly took it. His grip was firm and steady as he helped you to your feet, making sure that you avoided putting too much weight on your injured leg.

You pushed past any lingering odd emotions and focused on the fact that you were grateful for him. You had nothing to worry about — not with Rudy, not with the man who never made you feel stupid for being clumsy, who was always kind to you, the calm in your storm.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you said softly, your voice carrying gratitude.

Brian's eyes flicked to yours, a faint twinkle in them. He felt content.

As he held your gaze for a moment longer, he could clearly see the relief and appreciation in you. It had him suppressing a grin, the way you were so easily fooled.

To him, you were perfect in your vulnerability, of course. A doll. Beautiful, delicate, and breakable. He liked you that way — liked the way your clumsiness brought you to him, having to be fixed, to be held together. Every scrape, every fall, was a small gift, an opportunity for him to touch you, to take care of you. To make you his again, piece by fragile piece. You were his creation, something he had molded with care and patience, and he was the only one who could keep you whole.

Or take you further apart, if he chose.

But for now, he was content to play the role you expected — your Rudy, the one who would always keep you safe.

He watched you as your eyes briefly flickered to his mouth and up again, and knew what you were going to do before you had even fully decided on it.

Slowly, you leaned in and brushed your lips against his, wanting to show him just how much you appreciated him.

Letting you take control for a moment, Brian allowed you to believe that you were doing something for him, even though he knew better. You were in his hands, for as long as you lived. The thought thrilled him in a way you could never know, in a way he would never let you see.

Keeping his lips perfectly still, Brian decided to act surprised by your sudden gesture, pausing for a few seconds, until he could just about feel you starting to pull away.

He kissed you back then, using every bit of his self-restraint to start softly, and his hand came up to cradle the back of your neck in a tender movement. Slowly, he deepened the kiss, daring to go further by tightening his grip on you slightly, almost imperceptibly.

After a few moments, you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your heart beating faster. When you looked up at him, his smile was still there, and he looked as warm as ever to you. As you lost yourself inside his eyes, Brian felt that familiar pulse of satisfaction.

You didn’t know it, but you were already his, caught in the delicate web he had woven around you. He could see how much you trusted him and the unguarded naivety you held had been obvious to him from the very first moment that you two had met.

You were simply too brittle for this world. Too easily shattered by its sharp edges, too flimsy to protect yourself from the falls you constantly took. That’s why you needed him. That’s why you would always need him.

As his thumb stroked the pulse point along your neck, feeling the quickened beat beneath your skin, he smiled at you. It was a soft and loving smile, one he had perfected for you.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Brian now addressed your last sentence, his voice calm and encouraging, with only a tiny hint of something darker that you didn't seem to notice. “No matter how clumsy you are, I’ll always be there to fix you when you break.”

The words, meant to comfort you, immediately had their desired effect. You happily beamed up at him while blushing furiously.

“I’m really lucky to have you,” you told him and then leaned in again, kissing him softly and embracing the moment.

Wallowing in the comfort and warmth he provided you with, you slid your hands up his chest, deepening the kiss. You didn’t want to think or talk anymore, just enjoy the feeling of being with him.

Brian watched you through half-lidded eyes, noticing your movements growing more desperate with every passing second. He could feel the tension in your body — the way you were almost pleading for his control — and it amused him, in a way.

You didn’t even realize how effortlessly you fell into this role, how naturally you let yourself be pulled into his world.

Moving his hands down to your waist, he squeezed them a little tighter than usual, but you didn’t seem to notice the extra strength in his grip, too absorbed in your need.

When you grasped the hem of his shirt and tugged it up to pull over his head, he lifted his arms and let you, suppressing a smirk.

It was obvious to him that you needed this physical closeness. Your skin pressing against his, fingers now fumbling with his belt in a frenzy — you were letting go of any lingering doubts and focusing solely on him.

Feeling a sense of smugness, he guided you with quick, assertive movements, prying your clothes away with a roughness that seemed to match your urgency. You gasped as he yanked off your shirt and then dug his fingers into your skin, his touch simultaneously gentle and commanding. Leaning further into him, you longed for release already and how he always made everything else seem insignificant when you were together like this.

Brian’s lips determinedly traveled to your throat, kissing you with an insistent fervor now. You shuddered under the ferocity, but didn’t stop him. Didn’t want to stop him. His teeth grazed your skin, causing your head to fall back in an open-mouthed moan, arching your body against him, desperate for more. The heat of his passion overwhelmed you, pushing any thoughts of discomfort aside. Hands roamed your body, his traces both prodding and tranquilizing.

He could feel the way you were giving in to him and letting him take over, allowing him to guide you, and that’s exactly how he liked it. His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging in even more, and when you winced, he knew you felt it — though you never pulled away.

You wanted this. You needed him to be in charge.

When he led you into the bedroom, your discarded clothes left in the wake of his deliberate actions, his movements were filled with a raw intensity.

You shortly cringed at the sudden pain shooting through your injured leg when his weight pressed down on you as he pushed you onto the bed, but his lips crashing against yours with hunger made you almost immediately forget about any hurt. Kissing him back just as frantically, you wrapped your arms around his neck to cling onto him. He slipped his tongue between your lips almost forcefully, licking over every hidden crevice in your mouth with purpose. His hands roamed over your body and you moaned into Brian's mouth, his touch both a source of solace and pleasure for you.

Deep down on the inside a part of you noticed a subtle shift — Rudy was not being as gentle and careful as he normally was — but that part was swiftly drowned out by the sensations of everything else going on. All you could truly acknowledge in that moment was the incredible desire for him to make you forget everything but the feeling of him against you.

As if he somehow knew about what you’d felt, Brian interrupted the sloppy kiss and moved once more with intention and a vigor that sent your heart racing. His hands, bruising but controlled, pushed down the last bit of garment left between the two of you and you gasped as fresh air hit your intimate zone. You hadn't even realized how wet you'd gotten and now felt slightly ashamed at the way your body obviously liked the way he handled you and the way he'd been — and still was — pushing you and testing your limits, teetering the edges of breaking them.

He was still Rudy though, still the man who you trusted most in the world, so you didn't give it much more than a passing thought and decided to just roll with it.

Even though it would probably give you pause if you properly questioned it — the fact that he didn't usually act this way and only when you were injured or reliant on him in some way — for more than two seconds. But you didn’t question it for more than two seconds, couldn't, as your body deliciously responded and distracted you instead.

When Brian finally pushed into you, you cried out, your fingernails digging into his shoulders and leaving half-crescent-shaped moon indentions in his skin. He allowed you to adjust to his size for a short while, pushing his forehead against yours with his mouth hanging open in a silent groan as he relished in the feeling of being inside you.

After enough time passed for you to become used to him, you patted his shoulder and nodded ever so slightly, not capable of words.

Brian understood though, and immediately began to move, quickly setting a pace that was fast and demanding.

Pressing your eyes shut, you clung to him, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him impossibly closer — entirely missing the way his eyes were filled with something completely wild and dark. Focussing on the feeling of your boyfriend pushing and pulling inside of you, he soon began to hit that delicious spot deep in you, and you moaned loudly.

Brian leaned down then and you could feel his hot breath against your ear, his voice low and rough.

“You need me, don’t you?” he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine. You frantically nodded while gasping for air, unable to answer anything. “Whenever you need me, I am — and will — be there, every. single. time.”

He punctuated each word with a sharper and deeper thrust, angled directly at your sweet spot, leaving you choking for breath with tears in your eyes at one point. His words, though assertive, felt like a promise of security and care to you.

The room was heavy with heat, your breaths mingling, the sound of your bodies crashing together filling the space. Each push sent a jolt through you that made your head spin. You lost yourself in it all, in these repetitive motions, his touch, the feeling of his skin against yours.

One of his hands now moved to your clit and his movements became even more resolved and driven. He was controlling the moment, steering it exactly where he wanted, and your body responded accordingly. You could feel yourself being pulled in by the sensation, as he pushed you towards the edge.

“God, you’re so perfect like this,” Brian grunted, his voice a mix of command and encouragement. “Come on, it's alright. You’re mine, aren’t you? Just let go.”

Tears rose in your eyes as you felt your body react to both his words and actions, the increasing intensity overtaking everything else and throwing you into a rush of pure ecstasy.

Your fingers dug into his back, your breath ragged, and all at once you fell into the waves, pulled underneath by their impact. You couldn't breathe for a moment, until finally, with a twist from Brian's fingers and a sharp cry from you, you reached the surface again.

The release hit you hard, sending rows of pleasure crashing through your body, and all you could do was lie there and take it, face screwed up in the pleasure of it.

Brian followed soon after, his movements rough and forceful as he found his own release, breath hot against your neck as he groaned, low and deep.

For a moment, the world stilled as the both of you tried to calm your breathing, the overwhelming physical connection between the two of you leaving you in a daze. Your heart pounded in your chest, your body trembling beneath the weight of his body on you.

After what felt like ages, but was likely only seconds, Brian lifted himself up and out of you, leaving you feeling strangely empty at the loss of him.

He collapsed beside you then and the room fell into a heavy silence in the aftermath of what you'd done.

As he lay beside you, Brian's mind was a whirlpool of satisfaction and dark pleasure. He reveled in the way you’d clung to him, completely oblivious to the extent of his control. The contrast between your dependence on him and his calculated dominance over you joyed him immensely.

Lifting his head, he turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush your hair back from your face, his caress tender again and a stark difference from the intensity of the moments you’d shared just before. His fingers grazed over your skin, his touch so feather-light and soft, it immediately erased any lingering concerns in you.

It was an act, of course. A way to further embed his influence. The compassion was a calculated gesture, a way to reinforce the illusion of care while keeping you bound to him.

“Are you alright?” he asked carefully, his voice carrying a tone of worry that felt comforting, and you nodded, reassured by his touch.

He always knew how to make you feel cherished, and you clung to that sense of security.

He noted the way your body relaxed against his, your breathing steady and calm. The pretense of concern came naturally to him, a mask he wore so well.

His hand now rested on your cheek, his thumb brushing softly as he leaned in closer.

“I love you,” he whispered, the final nail in the coffin, as always, his gaze lingering on you and studying your relaxed and smitten features. To him, you were more than just a partner; you were a project, a creation he had formed. The sweetness in his voice was a facade that masked his true intentions.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you felt another wave of affection and safety. Any fleeting worries were overshadowed by his sedative presence. You knew he was there for you, providing the care and support you needed.

“I love you too,” you responded, wrapping your arms around him and drawing him closer, feeling his warmth envelop you.

And as you nestled closer, Brian’s thoughts were filled with a dark fulfillment. The control he wielded was subtle, deeply woven into the fabric of his relationship with you.

And you, in your innocent trust, had made it all too easy.

With the quiet settling in, you allowed yourself to sink into the comfort of his presence and fell asleep.

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nats-firefly · 9 months ago

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favorite crime

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: she wanted to sign the accords, you didn’t, and you didn’t see another way out

warnings: angst, some swearing

a/n: i know i originally said no pt 2 but i'm reconsidering (the reason i'm reposting is because i had an idea for a pt 2)

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

words: 1.5k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

“For the record, this is what making things worse looks like,” She gripped your arm as you walked down the long hallway. “Try not to break anything while we fix this.”

She threw you a hard look and you turned your body to Steve, looking down and playing with the silver ring around your ring finger. Your heard the people around you exchanging remarks, but you couldn’t take your mind off the way Natasha looked at you.

You looked back down at the simple silver ring on your finger, thinking back to when Natasha gave it to you.

“It’s more discreet, so people know you’re taken even when you’re working.”

You thought it was adorable and it gave you something to fidget with on long trips during missions, and it always brought you comfort when you were away. But now it just felt like a weight dragging your body down. Steve bumped your arm, making you look up at his sympathetic smile.

“She’ll come around,” He said. You bit the inside of your lip, turning your attention back down to your hands. You and Natasha hadn’t been able to have a conversation without fighting ever since the accords were brought up. You didn’t want to sign it, she did.

The accords weaved themselves into every conversation you tried having. And you ended up passive aggressively yelling at each other every time before one of you hurt the other’s feelings, the only civil conversation you’d had ended in you lying through your teeth.

“I’m not gonna make you sign it,” She chuckled, running her hands through your hair when you were lying in bed before going to sleep. “But if you don’t sign it, what are you gonna do?”

“I’ll retire,” You said, she scoffed and you looked up at her. You didn’t want to lie, but every other time they were brought up, the two of you ended up in a fight. As much as you didn’t want to. Part of you thinks it’s because you knew they were the start of the end. “What?”

“Really?” You turned on your stomach, leaning up on your elbows and looking at her face, your eyes moving over her lips, her delicate nose, then the arch of her eyebrow. She cupped your cheek, tilting her head and letting a soft smile appear on her face.

“Nat, we’re getting married,” You twirled the diamond ring on your finger, something you had gotten used to doing ever since she put it on your finger. You finally looked into her eyes. “It’s probably time for one of us to start settling down.”

You were pulled from your thoughts as you started being ushered into a glass office, but before you reached the door, your arm was pulled back by Natasha who led you to a different office, one with more privacy and only one glass wall.

“I told you not to do this,” She said leaning both her hands on the table as you sat on the swivel chair across from her, resting your hands on the table and slouching on the chair. You avoided her eyes as you continued to spin the ring on your finger, you legs starting to bounce up and down. She sighed, trying to control her voice. “Not even a day after the accor-”

“You knew I was never gonna sign th-”

“This isn’t about signing the accords,” She interrupted you, her voice harsh and cold. “It’s about letting things cool down for a couple of days.”

“I wasn’t the one who bombed the conference,” You said, your tone mirroring hers as you sat up and looked her in the eyes.

“No, you were just the person helping him get away with it.”

“It wasn’t him,” You said as she sighed turning to the glass wall, making sure no one was paying attention. “And if you listened to me for one goddamn second, you would know that.”

“And if you hadn’t committed an international crime, maybe I would.”

“Look who’s talking,” You scoffed, looking back down at your hand, your attention returning to the ring on your finger. “As if you haven’t committed several crimes.”

“I never said I hadn’t,” Her fingers rubbed her temples as she pulled a chair up to the table across from you. “But I’ve changed since then, I know better now.”

“Really? It doesn’t seem like it,” You said, refusing to look away from her. Her eyes were locked onto yours. You felt the knot rise up in your throat, feeling your chest tighten with her harsh look on you.

“Look what we became,” You mumbled out voice breaking and running your hands through your hair. Natasha took a deep breath, looking through the glass wall to see if anyone was looking and taking the time away from your eyes to wipe the tear that had escaped. You sat back, fumbling with the ring on your finger which made another wave of dread rip through you. You loved Natasha and it felt like your heart was being torn out of your chest by letting this get between the two of you.

“Is this what it’s gonna be from now on? Walking on eggshells all the time? And what happens if I do something, are you gonna arrest me?”

“No, I’m not gonna arrest you-”

“Then what the hell is this?” You mumbled to yourself, but made her pause her sentence, giving you a sharp look.

“Someone will. And this is an office, Y/N, it’s a hell of a lot better than a cell,” Her eyes were cold and her tone was harsh, it tightened the knot in your throat and you had to swallow hard to keep yourself from breaking apart in front of her. “And what if I’m not there to clean up the mess you make?”

“You’re the one that signed those accords-“

“You’re the one that said you were gonna retire.”

“Then I guess you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” You raised your voice, trying to keep it from breaking. She fought back the tears threatening her composure, it broke your heart. She probably knew you better than you knew yourself.

She was silent as you returned to playing with the ring on your finger, refusing to look at her. Her eyes however, locked back onto on you.

“Where do we go from here?” Her voice was controlled, her eyes also trained on the way you started taking your engagement ring on and off as you were deep in thought.

“You tell me, Natasha,” You looked back up at her, her green eyes burning holes into your skin.

“I want you to sign the accords,” You rolled your eyes, leaning back onto the chair and looking at the wall. “Please, for me.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “I know when SHIELD fell, you took a hit-”

“This isn’t about SHIELD.”

“But it is,” She sighed an exasperated sigh as you looked into her eyes.

“I don’t want to be someone you resent,” She said, your eyes making their way back to looking at her. “I already signed the accords, if you signed it, it would solve the problem.”

“You made that decision on your own Natasha,” You said, barely above your breath but loud enough for Natasha to hear. She stopped herself, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “It used to be different between us, it used to be ‘if you were going down, I’m going down with you,’ but now-”

“It’s still like that,” She said, but you suddenly stood off your chair.

“No it’s not,” You raised you voice again. “Ever since you decided to sign the accords, it turned into you against me. I’m not gonna stop, Nat, am I just gonna be a criminal to you now?”

She was silent, and when you blinked, tears escaped out of the corners of your eyes. “There’s only one way to solve this problem now.”

You didn’t want her to have to watch over you for the rest of your lives. You didn’t want to have to keep things from her, and you didn’t want her not to trust you. You were able to read her like the back of your hand just a few days ago and now she felt like a stranger.

“What are you saying?” She asked, hoping you didn’t mean what she thought you did. “Are you gonna sign the accords?”

Your lip quivered as you swallowed the knot in your throat and rolled the thin silver band across the table towards her. The rolling sound of metal on wood echoing around the room. Your vision blurred and you flinched when she slammed her hand onto the ring and dragged it off the table.

Her face hardened and her jaw squared. She walked out of the room as you fell back into your chair, looking up at the ceiling and trying to keep your tears at bay.

Natasha clutched your ring as she made her way back to the main room, her eyes focusing on Bucky’s video feed, but the sound being drowned out by the ringing in her ears. Her arms crossed around her body as she attempted to keep herself from falling apart. But the look on your face as you refused to meet her eyes was frozen in her mind.

#bonk.nat #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader angst #black widow x reader #black widow x reader angst #black widow angst #bonk.repost

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junicult · 28 days ago

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contains ; fluff! established relationship — dating. gn!reader. gamer bf…i am only weak. character ambiguous. written with seb in mind but definitely sam coded.

note ; i accidentally deleted this. so repost 😓

a part of your nightly routine before bed is sitting on your living room couch together, doing separate things.

for him, it’ll always be playing some sort of video game. whether it’s on his pc at the coffee table, or playstation, he tends to sit there until the late hours of the night until you’re ready to go to bed.

for you, it’s usually reading, or any kind of arts and crafts. whichever relaxing indoor hobby alludes your interest that day. occasionally you’ll grab a second controller and spend hours together playing multiplayer (he loves this the most) but typically it’s just sitting in each others presence while doing your own thing.

because of this, your boyfriend has grown a bit of a habit.

whenever he dies in the middle of a game, instead of yelling or shouting, punching or kicking—he immediately lets out a huff of frustration and nearly attacks you with his lips.

grabs a dual handfuls of your cheeks, smushing his lips into yours with a sloppy kiss. he does this repeatedly until you’re giggling and he’s practically kissing your teeth, circling your whole face until he’s had a good enough fix to cool himself off and press play.

sometimes he tosses his controller next to him and groans into your lap, silently pleading for your soothing hand to feather his hair and your smiley words of encouragement. it ends with him sitting up and leaning in towards you, wordlessly gesturing to his cheek. for extra luck of course.

and when he’s really frustrated, he just as quickly throws his head into you with a groan, demanding your love in every way he insists.

“tell me you love me. tell me i’m perfect for you. tell me i’m amazing and i can finish this level because you’re my girlfriend and you don’t date losers.”

you have to comply, of course, filling him in word for word what he pleads, and even a few more improvised encouragements all with a giggle. just enough for him to press play with straightened chest and all fired up because you believe in him.

when he finally does beat that level, he only has you to thank. you’re his good luck charm, after all.

#✎ drabbles !#it might look a little different just pretend like it isn’t for my sake #i’m so glad i had this written elsewhere or i might’ve crashed out again #sdv x farmer #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #sdv x reader #stardew valley bachelor hcs #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian #sdv sam x farmer #sdv sam x reader #sdv sam

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local-diavolo-anon · 1 year ago

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i apologise if i'm posting this much about the DLC but i am very excited

so theory time! this time about Glamrock Bonnie!

someone found Glamrock Bonnie in bonnie bowl and someonw else got his pieces from the gamefiles and stuck the model back together (the images are not mine, i have no idea who even psoted them ebcause they've been reposted a crapload of times, but i know the originals came from twitter)

i feel a bit sad than logically he was there the whole time during the main game as well and we simply couldn't see him

but also: He has claw marks on his chest, which i think pretty much confirms that monty is the one that broke him apart.

however. that's not nearly enough damage to decommission a glamrock animatronic, as we have seen.

hell monty looks like this in the dlc and he is still kicking (probably by the power of god tho) and i remember seeing THIS video some time ago, so let me bring you something a bit painful:

most people i've seen pinpoin monty's actions toward bonnie as envy and resentment, however in monty golfs whenever we see character cutouts or holograms Freddy is the one in the shadows, always. wouldn't have made it more sense for monty to try and attack someone he quite clearly disliked instead of bonnie? we know freddy and bonnie were close, so with some stretch you could even say monty was jealous of freddy's relationship with bonnie (but i'm not going to account that here) If the theory from that video is true and bonnie was the first and only trial test of the grlitchtrap virus on a full glamrock animatronic, what if monty noticed? what if monty saw that bonnie was acting weird, and when confronted him realized something was severely wong for a reason or another? and either to prevent the spread of the virus, OR simply out of self preservation he was forced to fight with bonnie? because if the mimic were to see someone noticed him, he'd likely try and make them disappear in one way or another so my theory-timeline is: Bonnie was infected, started acting weird, wandered around and ultimately ended in monty golf, monty saw him and went to him, then noticed something was wrong, bonnie attacked him to make sure nobody knew, and monty had to defend himself.

i'm fairly sure this is at least somewhat correct because Monty's claws can do some serious damage, and definitely more than what Bonnie's torso and head show. (edit: yes even without upgrade, Monty still has very big and sharp claws, realistically they could totally do that amount of damage, + in the original draft of the game, from Monty you were supposed to take his legs, and the claw upgrade was not a thing at all, yet it was always hinted he did caused bonnie's decommission)

all of this to say that bonnie more likely was decommissioned not because of the damage, but rather because because when technicians tried to fix him they noticed something had infected him, and to prevent any further spreading they were forced to deactivate him.

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jessybarnes · 1 year ago

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Teach Me

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean x Reader / Eventual Cas x Reader / No Destiel

Rating: 18+ Only!!

Tags: Voyeurism, Smut, Fingering (Female Receiving), Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Squirting, Finger Sucking, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex, Use of Grace, A little bit of a Threesome (NO DESTIEL in this one), Some Fluff at the end, and I think that’s it.

Word Count: 2,966

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr blog, I hope you enjoy it!

Reblog Divider by: @cafekitsune

Dean couldn’t keep Y/N quiet. Her pleasure-filled screams echoed through the halls of the bunker as he flicked his tongue rapidly over her clit, two of his skilled fingers curling inside her searching out her sweet spot. He was just glad that they were alone and didn’t have any close neighbors because he was sure the cops would have been called by now. Edging was one of his favorite things to do to her. Dean loved seeing her beg. He always thought she begged pretty.

“Oh God, please… Dean, please! Need to cum…”

Dean knew she was close. The way her needy moans became pants as her walls started to tighten around his thick digits, it was his key to stop. He pulled out of her, chuckling at her low whimper.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sweetheart, I didn’t give you permission yet. You gotta be a good girl. Only good girls get what they want. Think you can do that for me?”

Y/N’s chest was heaving, and she swore the moment anything touched her throbbing clit she’d explode, but Dean always knew what she needed. Especially when she was in a submissive state like this. She felt Dean’s calloused hands slide slowly up her sides, goosebumps rising in their wake. His lips sucked at the pulse point just below her ear sending a shiver down her spine.

“D-Dean…”

His lips ghosted along the skin of her throat ever so lightly. It was getting hard for him to hold back himself, so he could only imagine how she was feeling. His fingers found her slick folds once again, her walls fluttering around nothing before he slid one into her. The action wasn’t anything near what she needed, but it was better than him not touching her at all.

Y/N began to raise her hips to meet the lazy thrust of his finger. All she needed was a little bit more, just a little more, and she’d be soaring into pure bliss. Dean’s sound of disapproval brought her back to reality, and she almost sobbed when he pulled out of her.

“Ah, Ah, Ah. Didn’t say you could move, darlin’.”

“Fuck, please… please Dean. I-I need it.”

Just as Dean was about to give in and grant the release they both needed, a flutter of wings sounded in the corner of the room. Y/N scrambled up the bed, covering herself with the sheet just as Dean threw his black t-shirt on and grabbed his pistol off the nightstand.

“Y/N? Is everything alright? I heard you calling for De-”

The familiar figure of Castiel stood clad in his usual attire looking halfway between confused and embarrassed as he took in the scene before him. His head tilted slightly before he spoke again, his attention fixed on Dean curiously.

“Dean, was it you that was causing Y/N to cry out in distress?”

Y/N watched as Dean put his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes.

“Dammit, Cas … Y/N wasn’t distressed. She was enjoyin’ herself.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed to thin slits finally realizing that they were completely naked save for Dean’s tee. He walked forward slightly, picking up Dean’s boxers for a moment before dropping them back onto the pile of clothes on the floor.

“Oh, I understand now Dean. This is how humans participate in the act of intercourse. My apologies for interrupting.”

Y/N watched as Cas awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other before looking at Dean expectantly.

“Cas? You okay, buddy? I was kinda hoping to get back to uh … well, ya know …”

Cas’ blue eyes wandered over their bare skin slowly, and Y/N didn’t miss the hint of redness that tinted his cheeks.

“Dean? I would very much like to learn how to make Y/N enjoy herself as you did. Can you teach me?”

Y/N’s gaze darted to Dean’s as he looked at her, the silent question was understood and she nodded slightly. A moment later, Dean stood from his spot at the foot of the bed and walked slowly towards his angel friend. Cas looked at him curiously as the fabric of his signature blue tie slid through the hunter’s thumb and index finger.

“Well, first things first Cas, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

He looked crestfallen at Dean, grasping the lapel of his trench coat lovingly.

“I like my clothing Dean. I don’t see why it would matter if I took all of it off or not.”

Y/N held back a laugh, shaking her head as Dean scrubbed a hand across his face.

“Cas, buddy, you gotta be naked. It’s uhh … it’s easier to …”

He sighed heavily, the annoyance thick in his tone.

“Trust me on this, Cas. Okay? It’ll make Y/N happy.”

Moments later, the ever-so-powerful angel of the Lord stood there in nothing but his white boxers. Y/N hadn’t realized just how muscular he was underneath all the layers of clothing he normally wore. His biceps were notably distinguished, his chest looked firm, and his deeply defined Adonis belt was deliciously inviting.

“I still don’t see how my lack of clothing would make Y/N feel pleasure, Dean.”

Just as Dean let out another exasperated sigh, Y/N patted the bed welcomingly and scooted over.

“C’mere Cas, let me show you what Dean’s talkin’ about.”

The angel stole a hesitant glance at Dean, watching him nod towards the bed. Cas swallowed thickly and made his way over to where Y/N laid invitingly.

Cas watched as her delicate hand patted the thin fitted sheet. Her fingers sliding over the fabric made his pulse quicken. It wasn’t until Dean sat on the end of the bed that he came to his senses.

“Go on, Cas. You have to feel how smooth her skin is. Y/N’s got the prettiest skin doesn’t she?”

It’s true that Cas always admired how beautifully smooth it looked. He just didn’t think he would ever get this opportunity. Celestial beings weren’t supposed to participate in acts like this. Sexual desires rarely crossed his mind, mainly because it was wired into his genetic code to serve God.

Ever so slowly he extended his hand, allowing it to come to rest on Y/N’s bare hip. Not only was her skin soft, but this simple touch seemed to electrify his body. The celestial energy within him made everything more heightened. An instinct he never thought he would’ve possessed took over.

Y/N returned the gesture by stroking her fingertips along the side of his cheek. She watched as Cas closed his eyes, the initial contact making him shiver. He’d never been touched so intimately before. The sensations from it alone caused his breath to hitch, and she hadn’t even got him completely naked yet. He hadn’t even noticed Dean move to the chair in the corner until his gruff voice broke the silence in the room, egging him on.

“Yeah, buddy that’s it. Kiss her next. See if you can find the spot on her neck that drives her absolutely wild.”

Y/ N’s gaze flitted from the angel’s slightly parted lips to his cerulean eyes. It made desire begin to pool in her abdomen seeing him like this. She’d always had feelings for Cas, but it never seemed possible that she would be able to explore those desires. His mouth descended onto her neck, kissing and sucking at her soft skin.

Y/N’s back arched into his toned chest at its own accord, his lips continuing their journey south. His ocean-colored eyes looked up through his thick lashes at her reaction to his kisses. It never occurred to him how such a small gesture could have such an effect on someone. He wanted more, needed to see Y/N come completely apart for him.

Cas marveled at her beautiful figure laid out before him. Beads of sweat collected in the valley between her breasts, her chest rising and falling as she looked down at him with want. He gracefully kissed his way back up to her bowtie lips, capturing them in a passionate caress. His tongue danced with hers expertly, the thickening of his cock evident against her upper thigh.

The moment his lips left hers a needy whine fell from her lips. Y/N looked over at Dean and felt her walls clench again. Seeing him fully naked again with his cock in his hand, hard and leaking, drove her absolutely wild. Her body began to shake again, her hands fisting the sheets.

“P-Please… I… I can’t… I need…”

Dean chuckled as Cas looked over at him with slight confusion etched in his features. He bit his lip, nodding at the angel to keep going as he slowly increased the speed of his hand on his cock.

“Dean, did I do something wrong? Y/N seems to be in distress again.”

A low moan fell from the elder Winchester’s lips. It was getting harder to focus on being a teacher when he was getting the hottest live show he’d ever seen. Eventually, he shook his head and tried desperately to form a coherent sentence.

“Nah buddy, I bet her pussy’s soaked. Just look at the way she’s breathin’. You see the way her eyes roll back in her head just from your hands and mouth touching her? That’s just the tip of the iceberg, Cas. You really wanna hear Y/N lose it, then you gotta find her sweet spot.”

Dean stood up and joined his angelic friend on the bed, carefully spreading Y/N’s legs. He showed Cas his middle and ring fingers for a moment before dipping them into the slick folds of her sex. Cas didn’t miss how her back arched off the bed or the way she whimpered. Dean didn’t keep them inside her long though. This wasn’t his show anymore, but he wasn’t upset. If he was honest with himself, teaching turned him on more than he thought it would.

“You see that? Now you try…”

Cas slid his left hand up Y/N’s thigh, his fingertips ghosting over the goosebumps on her skin. He didn’t miss how she sucked in a breath the moment his fingers grazed her folds. Dean was right, she was very wet. Ever so slowly, he began to smooth them up and down, his cock throbbing in his boxers every time a new plea fell from her mouth.

“Is this her sweet spot, Dean?”

His hand never faltered as his blue eyes met Dean’s lust-blown ones. The hunter shook his head and bit his lip, his voice thick with arousal as he spoke.

“Not quite, Cas. I’ll help you find it though. Those two fingers you’re touchin’ her with? Push them inside her. Then, I want you to curl them upwards.”

Cas did as he was told, and the moment he curled his fingers the prettiest moan he’d ever heard filled the room like a prayer.

“Oh, Cas!... M-More… please!”

Cas didn’t have to be told twice. Virgin or not, he could tell he’d found the spot that drove her crazy. He began to rub his fingers along the spot inside her, his other hand rubbing his own arousal through his boxers to gain some relief. Dean praised him, egging him on as he used his thumb to draw circles around her clit.

“That’s it, Cas. Fuck... keep moving your hand like that, and she’ll cum in no time. You think we should let her? You wanna see her squirt? She taste’s like Heaven.”

Cas wasn’t sure what Dean meant by that, but he loved the way Y/N’s walls squeezed around his fingers. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out, a little faster each time. His eyes went wide as he watched Dean lowered his mouth towards where his hand was.

“I’m about to show you another spot, Cas. This one’s called her clit. Y/N’s about to become putty in our hands. Ready, buddy?”

Cas nodded, licking his lips as Dean closed his mouth over Y/N. Almost instantaneously he felt her walls clamp around his fingers. He couldn’t believe he’d never experienced anything like this before. Why would his Father keep something this pleasurable hidden from his brothers and sisters for so long? A few seconds later, Cas felt something wet gush over his vessel’s hand.

“Oh, fuck! C-Cas…. Dean I… I’m gonna… Right there!... OH, FUCK!!”

Dean sat back on his heels, his chin glistening with Y/N’s juices. A smirk formed on his lips before he gestured to where Cas’ hand was.

“Good job, buddy. You know, for an angel you’re not too bad at this. Taste her, Cas. Then, I wanna see you fuck her.”

Cas did as instructed and slowly removed his fingers from Y/N’s heat. He curiously observed the way they glistened with her wetness for a moment before sucking them between his lips. His eyes fluttered closed as he tasted her. Dean was right, she was delicious and he needed more. Before he could stop himself, he settled between her quivering legs. His instincts took over and soon he was devouring her like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Sh-Shit! CAS!! Ohholyshityes… yes… YES!” So good… Oh, you’re so good! AH!”

Dean’s jaw went slack as he watched the scene play out before him. His cock jerked in his hand, and he began to jerk himself faster. The coil of his arousal tightening with each passing moment he watched Cas work Y/N over.

“Jesus, Cas… Look at you, making her a complete mess with your mouth. Fuck… yeah, make her sweet pussy cum again… C’mon, buddy… you can do it. Make her scream…”

His words gave him the fuel he needed. He closed his mouth over the same spot Dean had before and sucked. He could quickly tell that she was sensitive, so as if on queue he used his grace to hold Y/N in place while he moved his tongue in circles across her bundle of nerves.

“Ca...Cas… Cas, OhmyG-... M’gonna… Fuck, I’m gonna… CAS!!!”

He released her clit and sat up next to where Dean was standing. His pupils fully engulfing the blue of his eyes. His cock was painfully hard in the confines of his boxers, so he took a moment to remove them.

“Cas, I think she’s ready for you. God, I can’t wait to see you fuck her and watch her cum with you buried inside her.”

Cas had never had something so filthy be spoken to him, but it unlocked something inside him. Something primal that needed to be sated, and it was something only Y/N could provide him. He positioned himself between her legs and pushed inside her, not stopping until his hips met hers. He heard her cry out and stopped, his eyes looking down into hers as he waited for her to adjust to him.

“Please… please, Cas… fuck me…”

The moment the words left her lips, he gave in and began a punishing pace. Dean marveled at the way Y/N looked from this angle. He knew he wasn’t going to last like this. Seeing his best friend fuck the girl he loved senselessly would be his undoing.

He stood there fucking himself into his hand while the most obscene noises filled his ears. It all became too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, the stream of Enochian coming from Castiel, and the sound of Y/N begging for him to cum sent him over the edge. Thick ropes of his release coated her chest and neck as he gripped the headboard for support.

“Mmm, fuck Cas… Yeah, buddy… fuck her just like that… She feels amazing, doesn’t she? That tight pussy squeezing your cock like a vice. She’s close, I can tell.”

He leaned down close to her ear and flicked his tongue over her earlobe.

“You like when Cas fucks you, sweetheart? His cock feels good splitting you open… I can tell. You gonna cum for us? Gonna cum all over him?”

The moment Y/N’s walls fluttered around Cas he was a goner. With a guttural cry, he stilled inside her, his release filling her completely.

For a few moments, no one said anything. It was all just heavy breathing and the occasional whimper from Y/N. Dean broke the silence and ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair before slipping back into his boxers.

“That was… wow… We gotta do that more often. He padded across the room to the door and gave the Cas and Y/N a lopsided smile. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up. You two should do the same and then we can talk about all this.”

He was gone seconds later, but before Y/N could move to get up herself, Cas shook his head.

“Allow me.”

With a quick snap of his fingers, they were both clean and back in their clothes. She smiled at him and threaded her fingers with his.

“That was amazing, Cas. I… I don’t know what we do from here, but I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

Cas smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple.

“I may be somewhat ignorant of intimate feelings, but Dean seemed pleased with what we just did together.”

The two made their way to the Bunker’s library completely sated. If you’d told Y/N a year ago that she’d be fucked into oblivion by an angel of the Lord while one of the most beautiful hunters that ever existed watched, she would have laughed. Now? Now, it was safe to say that anything can happen, and she couldn’t wait for Dean to give Cas another lesson.

#j snow writes #dean winchester x reader #castiel x reader #dean x reader #cas x reader #dean winchester smut #dean smut #castiel smut #cas smut #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #castiel x you #cas x you #castiel x y/n #cas x y/n #supernatural smut

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loomiseater · 7 months ago

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Pissed (no this does NOT have any pee kinks)

warnings: smut ofc!, fem reader!, mean and toxic Rafe, dub con, Dacryphilia, choking, and, p in v. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: I’ve written fics before but it’s only for my notes, so this is the first fic I’ve written that’s being published. Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing. Would you believe this took me an hour to write?

request page

This definitely isn’t repost worthy 😭 but if you do please give creds. @Loomiseater (Tumblr).

Written: April 21, 2024

Published: April 21, 2024

Summary: Rafe is pissed that you were hanging out with the Pouges.

“I go on vacation for a week! One fucking week! just to find out you were hanging out with those pouges?!” You could hear Rafe’s voice echoing from downstairs along with the door slamming. His footsteps were starting to get louder as he ran up the stairs angrily.

You cover your face with the bed sheets to pretend like you’re asleep. The doorknob twists as Rafe comes rushing into the bedroom like a maniac. “Get up! I know you’re not sleep” He announced while yanking the sheets off of you. “I know you heard what I said downstairs!” He shouted. “Why are you so pissed that I wanted to hang out with my friends?” You say softly. When Rafe is angry, it’s best to speak to him in a calm, gentle voice so you don’t piss him off even more.

“Why am I so pissed?” He repeatedly uttered to himself like he heard the most unbelievable thing ever. You got up off the bed to try and calm him down but he pushed you right back down. “This is what I get for trying to fix a broke bitch” He said in a chuckle to himself. Your heart shattered at his words. Rafe has always been mean during arguments or when he’s upset but he’s never spoke this ill of you.

“Are you serious?” You asked as tears began to appear in your eyes. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?” He started off with a pointed finger. “I buy this big house for not only me but you too, I give you a weekly allowance so you don’t have to work, AND I took your ass out the Cut!” He yelled. It’s like his voice gets louder each time. “And this is how you repay me? Hm?” He questioned as his face got closer to yours.

You tried your best not to cry but the tears started flowing and the sobs got louder. His hand wrapped around your neck and the oxygen for you was running out. “You are MY wife, understand?” Rafe questioned as you nodded your head. You tried to move his hand off your neck but he only tightened his grip.

“I only do this because you’re not safe when hanging around Pouges” he explained as his eyes softened while moving some hair out of your face. Your chest was starting to hurt from all the pressure Rafe was putting on your neck. “P-please, let me go” the words struggled to come out of your mouth and Rafe finally released his hand from your neck. Nothing but choked sobs could come out as Rafe immediately apologized.

His face was filled with nothing but regret…this was the first time you’ve ever seen Rafe genuinely sorry. “I’m so sorry baby!” he expressed while moving his forehead against yours. “It’s okay” you say that but you didn’t really mean it. Deep down you’re terrified of Rafe. You know what he’s capable of. What he can do to you and get away with it.

“I just got into argument with my dad and- I took my anger out all on you” he explained anxiously. “No, really Rafe- like I said, I’m fine” you said while wiping the tears that were still falling.

“Y/n, don’t lie to me!” He said sternly as you jump a bit. He noticed this action and gently grabbed your hands. “Let me make it up to you” Rafe says while placing kisses down your neck. You weren’t really in the mood after what just happened. “Rafe. No” you say, unsure what’s about to happen next.

“Shut up, I’m making it up to you” he said while pushing you down on your back and leaving trails of kisses down your neck. It was like he didn’t care, but it’s always been like this. What Rafe wants, Rafe gets. He started places kisses to your exposed chest, you were in nothing but a bra and shorts.

You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to do this but your body was telling you something else. The tension was thick between you and Rafe and your body was heating up. Your bra was being unclipped, he then threw it to the floor, not caring where it landed. He gently grabbed one of your breasts and started sucking on your nipple softly while looking you in the eye. You didn’t break eye contact with him, it was turning you on even more. Soft moans flew from your mouth as Rafe kept sucking.

“P-please” You choked out as Rafe let out a dark chuckle. “Please what? You want me to fuck you, huh?” He replied with that stupid smirk he always has. He slowly slid off your shorts and felt you. “All that resisting just for me to feel how wet you are” he laughed. He was right, after what he did to you, you were somehow soaked.

Rafe flipped you onto your stomach and left a hard smack to your ass. You hissed at how hard the slap was and it’s like he somehow got even harder. His dick was straining under the sweats he had on as he was pressing against your ass. You could feel kisses being placed on along your back along with a groan Rafe let out. He began take his clothes off and get on his knees behind you as you felt him shove himself in. It caught you off guard, resulting in you letting out a loud moan.

“Shit you’re so tight!” He expressed as he through his head back. He didn’t even wait for you to adjust, he began thrusting inside you like a mad man. The room was filled with nothing but the squelching sound from your pussy and grunts from Rafe’s mouth. “Fuck!” You muttered to yourself. You didn’t want to giveaway how much you were enjoying this but you're pretty sure your wetness spoke for itself.

He pulled out and slammed back into you as you tightly grabbed the sheets beneath you. The familiar feeling was rising in your stomach. Rafe grabbed your hair and made sure your back was fleshed between his chest as he spoke into your ear. “Pussy so good, make me wanna put a baby in you” he grunted as you came all over his dick from just his words but that didn’t stop him. That was probably the loudest moan you’ve ever let out.

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” You shout as tears flow from your eyes from the overstimulation. Rafe looked down at the mess you made on his dick and it made him whine, almost cumming at the sight in front of him. He pulled out and turn you back on your back. With no warning he put your legs on his shoulders and began thrusting. “Rafe!” You moaned as he was sliding in and out of you. Yours nails deeply scratched his back which led him to slower his thrusts.

“Your so perfect” He said lowly. Nothing could come out from you except for sobs. “It’s too much Rafe!” You whined from all the stimulation. "You look so pretty when cry" And when Rafe saw you crying he let out a groan while cumming inside you. He began kissing you and rubbing your clit until your legs were shaking. It’s like he knew the exact moment you would finish. He pulled out as you squirted, letting his dick get covered in it while he began to thrust himself in his hand. This time, painting your thighs white.

“You did so good, baby” He says while placing a kiss to your forehead. You passed out on the pillow from your recent activity as Rafe got from off the bed and cleaned you with a wet hand towel.

#rafe smut #rafecore #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #smut fic #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #drew starkey #loomiseater

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meowzcw · 3 months ago

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I finally drew my oc A-Sans normally on here instead of kawaii doodles 🔥🔥 (By the way he stole that jacket off a coat rack like a hermit crab, that's why it's like size asgore)

(I HAD TO FIX HIM SO THIS IS A REPOST OF MY OWN DRAWING 😭)

Reblogs are appreciated ‼️

His/au backstory down below if you wanna read 🦟 just a warning it's not original or anything and there's obv a lot of hcs and things picked from the multiverse because why not I just made him for fun 🎉

it's missing some info but those parts are mostly from Frisk's side of things since they're what caused everything to happen 🐺

Frisk basically got trapped in the underground for 7 years since the barrier wouldn't open due to one of the souls dying out and one day they selfishly yet desperately decided to go through with a genocide route for the first time, they didn't want to but they felt as if there was no other way

Sans met Frisk in judgment hall to stop them obvi and he tried to talk them out of continuing but Sans sucks at saying the right things so Frisk continued on anyways- Frisk struck first and got him on the face and Sans in return charged up his very op everything attack which is a one shot kill (can explain in another post if anyone's interested 🌹 it's a bit long but in short Frisk hopped into the core and some things bugged out bad, including stats of some monsters) and Frisk struck him again in the last second.

They died at the same time and due to the fact Sans shouldn't be able to use a move like that he ended up glitching out of the timeline into a battle sequence like out-code where the fight couldn't progress or end because Frisk wasn't there to do any actions. While Frisk continued into the judgment hall, except Sans wasn't there and things started to glitch out when they tried to go past the area. so they were forced to give up and go back to how it was before the genocide route. Just without Sans there

Sans got stuck in there for a few months until Error accidentally opened up the area during a silly fight with Ink- which Ink swiftly ditched Error to go check it out

Sans grew paranoid after being in there for so long so he started fighting Ink the second he saw movement thinking it was Frisk, but he was even more confused when he saw someone that looked exactly like him just in different clothes so he panicked and teleported outta there. And since he had dust all over him at the time Ink obvi wanted to know what happened, so he went to go look for him.

Ink soon found him and reassured him that he didn't need to worry about anything since everyone in his AU was alive, but advised him not to go back since Frisk might try another genocide run and succeed.

Sans accepted that and took his advice, Ink then explained the whole multiverse business, AU's and such, since Sans was pretty confused. He then asked Sans for his name since they didn't do a proper introduction, which Sans decided to call himself "A-Sans" because pretty much everyone that's usually out of their au is a sans.

A-Sans took Ink's advice the wrong way and forced himself to stop worrying about anything involving his AU since everyone was alive unlike those in the multiverse that were more unfortunate. which was hard to do since he missed everyone, felt guilty for leaving them behind all miserable and such so he took up drinking to help him stop worrying about it all.

Now he just hangs around in busy areas to nap all day by himself, people avoid talking to him because of the dust on his face and assume he killed someone.

-End 🔥

Personality wise A is very laid back and friendly, usually sleepy. He doesn't hold grudges and he forgives easily if it isn't too bad. He doesn't blame Frisk for what they did, he just wishes he was able to do something sooner to help them out before they got to that state.

And sorry if I repeat things or explain it all weird 🙏 it was 11am when I wrote this and I didn’t slept a wink but Imk if you have any questions!

#oc art #sans oc #artists on tumblr #undertale #undertale au #utmv fanart #my art #sans #utmv sans #utmv #utmv oc #A-Sans

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