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lechrts · 1 day ago

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Hiii! Could u write abt Oscar getting a crush on a girl that works at hospitality and he’s terrible at hiding it ? Thankssss

The Two of Us. ✷ Oscar Piastri

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Employee!reader

Summary: When he has a massive crush and never knows how to act when he’s around you.

Word Count: 2.1k

Disclaimer/s: Fluffff!!! AWKWARD!oscar…. teehee andddd reader works in f1 hospitality and all that jazz :3

Vera’s Voice! LOVEDDD this request thank u for submitting!!!!. personally my fave so far :’) hope u enjoy :3 SMIRK.

Oscar was terrible at hiding things.

He always had been, actually. Whether it was his nerves before a race, his tendency to overthink every decision, or, as it turned out, the fact that he had developed a massive crush on you.

You worked in F1 hospitality, handling the teams needs, making sure everything ran smoothly, always with a smile on your face.

Oscar often saw you rushing around during race weeks, organizing drinks, coordinating with the chefs, and generally keeping things running in perfect order.

He admired your ability to juggle it all while making it look effortless. But over time, his admiration had morphed into something far more complicated — something he couldn’t ignore.

And the worst part?

He was absolutely terrible at hiding it.

Oscar knew he was being obvious. He could feel his heart race every time you passed by. His palms would sweat, his words would get jumbled, and his eyes would follow you across the paddock like he was under some kind of spell.

He had tried to play it cool, to not let his feelings show, but every time you smiled at him or greeted him, it was like everything he had worked so hard for in his career flew out the window.

And today was no different.

It was an unusually quiet morning preparing for the upcoming practice sessions. The hospitality area was quiet, and Oscar, ever the over-thinker, had found his way to the coffee station.

His fingers drummed against the counter, eyes flicking from one side to the other, waiting for the perfect opportunity to speak to you.

He realized you were standing nearby, organizing some supplies, until you spoke up.

“Goodmorning, Oscar! Need a coffee?” You greeted and asked with a friendly smile, making him jump slightly.

He looked up, caught in the act of staring at you. “Uh—hi, Goodmorning.” He cleared his throat and smiled softly. “And y—yes, that’d be great,” His words stammered, trying to hide the fact that he’d been watching you.

You didn’t seem to notice. You were too focused on pulling the right kind of coffee for him, as always, completely unaware of the effect you had on him.

He couldn’t help but watch you work, amazed at how effortlessly you navigated the space, chatting with a few colleagues while still managing to prepare everything just the way everyone liked it.

Oscar, on the other hand, felt like he couldn’t even hold a conversation with you without tripping over his words.

He cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly when you handed him his coffee.

“Thank you,” He smiled, taking it from your hands with a bit too much eagerness. The warmth from the cup didn’t do much to calm the fluttering in his chest.

“No problem,” You said casually, but there was something in the way you glanced at him, as if you were trying to figure him out.

“Mm..” You hummed softly, analyzing him with narrowed eyes and a teasing demeanor but you were still clueless about the way he felt. You were just messing around. “You alright?“

Oscar froze, his heart skipping a beat. Did he really look that obvious? He immediately thought of the worst possible scenario — that everyone could tell how much he was crushing on you.

He forced a smile, trying to brush it off.

“Oh, yeah! Just tired. Got a long day ahead,” He said quickly, hoping to sound nonchalant. “You know how it is.”

You smiled again, that kind smile that made his stomach twist in a good way. “I hear you. Race weekends are always busy. You should take it easy when you can.”

Oscar nodded, but his eyes couldn’t stop flicking back to you. He knew he was being so obvious, but he didn’t know how to stop it. It was like there was some magnetic pull between you, and he was powerless to resist.

“You’re, uh... really good at what you do,” He said, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. His face heated up in embarrassment, and he fumbled with his coffee cup, trying to look like he wasn’t just blabbering on.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden compliment. “Oh, Thanks!” A soft and flattered giggle escaped your lips, clearly a little surprised. “I’m just doing my job.”

Oscar winced internally.

Why did he always sound so weird when he talked to you?

Before he could say anything else to dig himself into a deeper hole, a couple of other team members walked into the area, greeting you with familiar waves.

Oscar took the opportunity to retreat back to the McLaren garage, hoping he hadn’t completely embarrassed himself.

Later on, going into the early afternoon, the Aussie was casually lounging with his dearest teammate, taking a break from the madness of the day.

Lando, ever the curious one, knew about his Oscar’s little crush and had been sure to watch his reactions every race weekend.

The way he would suddenly stiffen up whenever you walked into the room, the way his eyes would lock onto you from across the paddock — it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

Oscar, as usual, was trying to act casual. He was sipping on his water, pretending to scroll through his phone, but his eyes kept flicking over to where you were standing, talking with some of the hospitality crew.

You were laughing at something someone had said, completely unaware that Oscar’s heart was about to leap out of his chest.

Lando, noticing this for the hundredth time, raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair with a knowing smirk. “So... how long are you gonna keep doing this?”

Oscar’s head snapped to him, his face flushing immediately. “What?”

Lando let out an exaggerated sigh and leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He chuckled. “Mate, you’ve got it bad.”

Oscar groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I don’t have it bad,” He scoffed. “I’m just... I don’t know. It’s not like I can just walk up and ask her out.”

Lando snorted. “Are you twelve? What’s the worst that could happen?”

Oscar shot him a look. “Say no.. And then it’d be... weird?”

“Well, yeah, that’s possible,” Lando admitted. “But, seriously. What’s there to be afraid of? You’re a top performance athlete and you’re afraid of rejection?”

Oscar groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “This is completely different. This is personal.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, his grin widening before he snorted, clearly amused. “You’re making this way more complicated than it needs to be. If you ask her out and she says no, it’s not the end of the world. But if you don’t try, you’ll never know. You can’t just keep staring at her from across the room forever.” He paused.

“And that’s just creepy.”

Oscar winced at the thought. “I’m not a stalker.”

“I’m just saying,” Lando shrugged. “You’ve got to at least try.“

Oscar’s face flushed, his nerves getting the best of him as he glanced over at you again, laughing with the hospitality team. He couldn’t help but feel the pull of wanting to ask, but his anxiety still held him back.

“I don’t know...” Oscar muttered, taking a deep breath. “What if she thinks I’m … I don’t know.. weird..”

Lando leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You’re weird regardless.” He rolled his eyes.

“Ha. Thanks.” The Aussie sarcastically quipped.

“Just go for it, mate. Trust me, it’ll feel a lot better than holding onto it.”

Oscar’s eyes darted back to you again. Lando was right, wasn’t he? His whole body was practically buzzing with anticipation.

Lando was basically daring him to take the plunge. He had to admit, there was a part of him that was tired of waiting.

“Okay,” Oscar said, his voice low but determined.

Lando’s grin widened, satisfied. “That’s what I like to hear. Go and make your move, mate.”

Later, the evening eventually arrived, and the paddock slowly filled up with people winding down after a long day. Oscar found himself aimlessly wandering, still unsure how to make his move.

It was now or never.

He couldn’t just keep pining over you in silence.

As he walked past the team lounge, he saw you again, standing by the refreshments table, chatting with a couple of other crew members.

He stopped in his tracks, his palms suddenly sweating. He had promised himself he’d do it tonight, but the closer he got, the more his courage wavered.

You looked over and saw him standing there, looking like he was about to hyperventilate, so you waved him over after your colleagues parted their ways.

“Evening, Oscar!” You smiled as he approached your beverage cart. “Need anything?”

He blinked, panicking. This was it. He had to do it now.

“Hi,” He stammered, stepping closer. “Um. Can I... can we actually talk for a minute?”

You gave him a puzzled but polite smile. “Uh.. Yeah sure, what’s up?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but for some reason, the words just wouldn’t come. He felt like he was about to melt into a puddle of awkwardness right in front of you.

He cleared his throat.

Just ask her, Oscar. Come on.

“I’ve been thinking,” He began, his voice coming out much higher than he intended. “And I just—well, I thought it’d be nice if you and I went out sometime.” He briefly paused.

“You know, like, for dinner. Just the two of us.”

You blinked at him, tilting your head as you processed his words.

He could tell you were trying to figure out if he was joking.

And honestly?

He wasn’t sure either.

But he had already said it, and now there was no turning back.

Your smile softened, but there was a hint of confusion in your eyes. “You mean, like a date?”

Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest. His throat felt dry, and all he could do was nod awkwardly.

“Yeah, um... yeah. Like a date,” He mumbled, wishing the floor would just swallow him whole.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now. But, I’m... I’m not great at this stuff.”

There was a long pause.

Oscar's palms were sweating, and he was sure his face was bright red. He was pretty sure he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and he could’ve sworn he was going to faint right then and there.

You blinked a few times, and then your lips curled into a slow, surprised smile.

And then, you giggled.

Oscar’s eyes widened. It wasn’t the teasing laugh he’d feared. No, it was sweet. It was genuine. The kind of laugh that made his heart race even more.

“You’re asking me out?” You asked with a quiet, sweet laugh, clearly taken aback.

“Y-yeah, I... I know this is probably a little awkward,” He admitted, feeling himself sink deeper into the ground. “But, I do like you. A lot.”

You blinked at him, and then your cheeks flushed as you took a step back. “Oh my God, Oscar,” You whispered softly, still giggling. “I had no idea! I thought you were just being... well, you know, your usual kind self.”

Oscar’s heart nearly stopped. “Wait, you... you didn’t realize?”

“No,” You said with a laugh, almost shy now. “I had no clue.”

Oscar let out a nervous laugh of his own, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’m not as smooth as I thought.”

You smiled warmly. “I am just a bit oblivious…” And there was a soft gleam in your eyes as you met his gaze. “But! This is... really sweet. I didn’t expect this. I think it sounds great.”

Oscar’s heart did a somersault. “So... you’d... go out with me?”

You laughed again, the sound sending a wave of warmth through him. “Of course I would. It sounds like it’ll be fun.”

His grin widened, and before he could even process it, he found himself letting out a small, relieved laugh. “Alright, then. I can text you and we can figure it out.”

You smiled back at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Looking forward to it.”

Oscar stood there for a moment, utterly dazed.

He had done it.

He had actually done it.

And you’d said yes.

It was the best feeling in the world.

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ivesambrose · 15 hours ago

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Your 2025,

Happy New Year my loves 🤎

Frost & Fortune | 2025 Readings ✨

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Thank you for the tip 🎀

Picture 1

your central theme for this year deals with self expression, creativity, romance, children or your inner child as well as your health. You'll be refining your daily routine and approach your life with more structure and purpose instead of spontaneously doing what you want. A lot of you may have struggled with creative burn out or procrastination in the previous year but you'll be pushed out of your comfort zone when it comes to that. I see that some of you will sit down with yourself and really ask, "will a much younger and naive and vulnerable version of me truly look up to me or be happy with what I've become and who I am as a person?" In this question you'll find your answers and the changes you need to make. You might be a bit critical of yourself initially but understand that constrictive criticism towards yourself and making and effort afterwards is also a healthy thing to do. Some of you might even turn a turn a possible passion into a part of your daily life this can be getting a job that you're truly happy about it something that lets you fit in what you want to do into your daily routine efficiently. You might face situations that will test your resilience. You'll learn how to not emotionally lash out in situations. Keep your cool and decorum and navigate accordingly. You'll also learn how to pick your battles carefully. relationships will be significant focus. You'll learn who to associate with, who not to, how to show up for yourself and the significant people in your life. How to establish boundaries between you and the ones you consider acquaintances as well. Not everyone is your friend and shouldn't be. Some of you might be interacting with a lot of people possibly for career related purposes. Learn when to unwind, detach and take time solely for yourself. Don't fall into the trap of people pleasing. Certain relationships might be deepening too. Some of you might change homes or completely renovate your existing home. Some of you might be asserting your independence within your family as well. Others of you might be leaving your home/parents home and venturing off by yourselves learning how to navigate the world on your own and finding your voice. Your immediate environment will also play a prominent role in your life this year. Also expect a lot of short trips, learning and networking. Start of year: Focus on grounding yourself and building a solid foundation. It's okay to take things slow you're not running a marathon. Bring your focus on long term plans, establishing security at the same time enjoying life's pleasures.

Middle of year: Refine, work with diligence, keep a tracker or planner/journal, health(mind and body) will be primary focus.

End of year: Step into the spotlight and celebrate your growth. Look back at yourself with pride.

Picture 2

Your most transformative year yet. Central theme of destiny and finding one's soul's purpose. You'll be stepping out of your comfort zone regardless of the type of comfort it brought you and venture out into the unknown. The change will be profound and unlike anything you've experienced but it has been a long time coming. This will transform you into the person you're meant to be. Don't be scared. You have wanted this. Financial matters, inheritances, joint ventures might also play a role in your growth. Intuition will be at an all time high be sure to listen to what your instincts are telling you before being persuaded by the masses. You'll also be making a lot of meaningful connections this year. You'll finally be taking off a mask and freeing yourself from a cage you had put yourself in or felt you were in. You'll be honing your existing skills and learning new ones and will be manifesting opportunities extensively for yourself. All you need is blind faith. You'll be pushed to trust the unseen and the unknown. Put logic aside when it comes to your dreams and goals and other pursuits this year. Things will only make sense by the end of it. You'll be stepping into a more leadership role this year. People will be inspired by your confidence as well as charisma. There may even be a drastic change in your overall appearance or the way you talk and present yourself. Some of you might be moving away states or countries. It will be because it's time for you to pursue your dreams fearlessly. It's not about chasing them anymore, it's about making them a part of your reality so that it becomes normal and not something out of reach. A lot of people will be enamored by you and you might end up becoming their muse. You might also feel deeply connected to your spiritual side as well and have related experiences. Many experiences, places, people and even your dreams will inspire you immensely. Lot of deja vu moments as well. Again, trust in your gut feeling about places and people. You'll feel deeply connected to something this year, it will feel like home somehow or a part of you. This year is about finding the lost pieces of yourself and building cathedrals within your soul. You have immense power. Trust it. Start of year: A focus on building meaningful partnerships. Forging new ones too. (Professional, romantic or personal) Collaborations and commitments as well.

Middle of year: Communication, learning, trips, networking, ideas and recognition. Collecting and making a lot of memories. Lot of mental stimulation.

End of year: Significant development in your professional life, building a legacy, fame, reputation and taking note of your personal achievements.

Picture 3

Your central theme is personal growth through higher learning, expansion of ideas and unconventional approaches to life. This year is big on exploration as well as travel for you. You may have been following the norms or what's expected from you for a long time or because that was the only thing that was available to you so haven't yet gotten the chance to step out of the box but this will be changing now. This year also emphasizes focused determination and victory. All your obstacles will be overcome with sheer discipline. Remember where your awareness and focus goes, energy flows. Things will also gain momentum this year compared to the previous one so don't be surprised if things start coming through all at once after a period of stagnation. This is a good year for your creative pursuits as well as love. If you're a lover girl/lover boy, congratulations! Please romanticize your life even further actually. I feel as though you'll find someone or friends and people who are just as willing to pour into you and give as much as you do. You'll be learning to receive and nurture this year. Some of you might also be going for higher education which in itself is a huge achievement, please be proud of you and your academic achievements. You'll be very proficient in problem solving and finding clarity too. Your head will feel less like an entanglement of sizzling wires. you will be attracting individuals who balance out your energy and propell you forward as well. A lot of exchange of ideas and experiences. You may also want to build a community or become a part of one. A lot of you will be finding new hobbies as well and actually be sticking to them. Deep transformation is also unavoidable. Certain hidden aspects or information might come up but it will bring you more clarity than trauma. You will learn how to make proper financial investments or receive money from unknown or unconventional resources. You'll also feel like a version of you has died and is long gone but a new one blooms and makes sure those around you bloom as well. I feel a lot of you will make sure you turn your life into art/a cinematic experience this year no matter what. Start of year: You'll be cautious and communicative, pursuing knowledge and expanding your network. Let your voice be heard, let your ideas be known. New conversations, contracts, opportunities etc.

Middle of year: Noticeable and visible progress in every area of your life. Enjoy your journey.

End of year: A more balanced and harmonious energy, a focus on relationships as well as making yourself and your surroundings more beautiful.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #pac #pick a picture #pick a pile #2025 #2025 messages #2025 pick a cards #tarot readers #psychic readings #psychic connection #psychic community #psychic medium

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pboogerswbb · 2 days ago

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SO IT GOES - chapter 3

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, bad proofreading Wordcount: 6K A/C: a little post win celebration!! enjoy this ;)

Before London

I check my phone, 6:30AM. Way too early for anything, let alone a meeting. Climbing into my Jeep, I pull out of the parking lot onto the road, only to come to a sudden stop, my foot stepping on the break before I can think. Standing there, in the early morning sun painting her skin golden, is Izara, holding her phone and tapping her heeled foot on the ground impatiently. She’s in a black sheath dress that hugs her body all the way down to her ankles, not too tight to be inappropriate, but snug in just the right places to leave me wanting more. There’s a thick leather belt on her waist, the golden buckle matching her earrings perfectly. Naturally she looks perfect, the slight frown on her face only making her more beautiful.

I pull up next to her, rolling down the passenger window.

“Yo, Zari!”

She jumps before finally seeing me, her hard face softening.

“Oh my goodness, you scared me,” the girl chuckles, her hand on her chest from the surprise. “What are you doing up this early?”

“I gotta meeting, some promo stuff,” I explain. “Where you headed?”

Zari looks around and I can tell she’s growing frustrated, letting out an annoyed laugh. “Well I’m supposed to be heading to work but my Uber isn’t here and isn’t answering any calls or anything,” she complains. “I’m literally about to be late, and Linda is going to murder me with her own, cold hand-”

“Woah, woah, we’re a mess here but we don’t do that even in America,” I laugh, reaching over to push the door open for Izara. “Lemme drive you Iz.”

She thinks for a while, looking around and finally sighing in defeat, climbing gracefully into my Jeep.

“Are you sure you have time?” She asks, concerned as she crosses her legs and locks eyes with me. Like clockwork, my chest begins to pound, but I let it. I don’t wanna look away from the green of her pupils just yet.

“You going to the Wings office building?” I ask, leaning against my seat. The girl nods.

“That’s perfect, I was going that way already,” I lie, knowing it was 20 minutes in the opposite direction. But I couldn’t leave Izara in trouble, and she seemed so worried with that frown on her face. This is worth being late for.

“Thank you darling, you’re an angel. Really.” Zari sighs in relief, reaching over to pat my forearm. The goosebumps are immediate, spreading all over my body as I pull into the next lane.

My eyes flicker from the traffic to her, and my stomach begins to twist. The other day I was beating myself up over being an idiot around her, and now I got this girl in my car, humming to the Drake song that’s playing. Say something charming, quick.

“You always dress so fancy,” I say, leaning back with one hand on the wheel, the other on my lap. It almost comes out like an insult. Great.

“Is that bad?” Izara quickly replies, turning her head to me. From my peripheral vision I can see the glimmer in the corner of her eye, she’s joking. In my head I pat myself on the back for finally learning her cues.

Grinning, I shrug and lick my lower lip. “I dunno, I think you should be dressing in basketball shorts and sports bras like the rest of us.”

“You think I could pull that off?” Her tone is coy, teasing. Almost… flirty? No, I’m imagining.

“You know you could,” I murmur, mouth going dry at the thought of her in such little clothing before me.

She laughs, nose scrunching up as she does. “I’m not so sure. I don’t have abs like you.”

My palms grow clammy against the wheel at her words, the idea of Zari watching me close enough to notice my body in that way leaving me tongue tied.

“Uh, well, not everyone can I guess,” I mumble, my voice shakier than I’d like. I should’ve said something else - like how I think she looks gorgeous, how the softness of her stomach only made me want to kiss all over it on my way down, to take my time with her. Okay, maybe not that part.

The car falls silent, the motor humming constantly in the background, interrupted only by the Summer Walker and Drake song playing through the stereo.

Staring out the window, Zari begins to softly sing along, barely audible but just enough for me to notice.

“Girls can't never say they need it, girls can't never say now, give it to me like you need it, baby, want you to hear me screaming, heavy breathing,I don't need a reason, baby.”

The dirty lyrics spilling from her lips contrasting with her poise and elegance make my mind spin, a burn igniting somewhere deep in my abdomen.

“Didn’t take you for a Drake girl,” I smirk, turning the song up for her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zari scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, you don’t seem like someone who listens to rap,” I admit.

“What do I seem like then?”

“Like you listen to classical music or,” I think for a while. “Well I dunno some classy shit. Whatever British people listen to.”

Zari laughs, shaking her head. “Would you believe me if I say British people are just like you?”

I join her laughter. She had a point.

“Anyway, my brother loves Drake. His biggest fan, I swear,” Izara adds, sliding the sunglasses from her forehead to her face as the sun rises in the horizon, colouring the sky with a pink hue.

“Nope, that’s me,” I answer competitively.

Izara turns to me, a wide smile spread across her face. “You’d get along. You’re kinda similar actually.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

“Kiran.”

There’s a hint of longing in the girl’s voice, head turning to look out the window again.

“You miss him?” I ask carefully.

She nods. “A lot.”

“He watch hoops?”

Zari laughs, her mood instantly lifting. “He does, he thinks you’re hot.”

I scrunch my face, shaking my head. “Yeah, Ion swing that way. Sorry.”

“That’s what I told him,” the girl chuckles.

I glance at her, still unsure about which way she swung. Usually it went two ways with the straight girls - either they assumed I was into them and made it very clear they didn't want me, avoiding my gaze, flinching when I touched them or they got overly flirty, getting some sort of power trip by assuming I wanted them. With Izara, I wasn’t sure.

“You just need some, someone that's calm and patient, submission, domination,” we sing together, making the girl sitting next to me giggle as our voices blend together. Maybe she wasn’t straight.

“Arched back, deep stroke, white wine, Weed smoke, that's my best combination, You just need some dick with no complications,” I hum by myself now, Zari going quiet, too modest to match the lyrics. As my eyes flicker to her I realise I’m causing her to blush, the pink of her cheeks spreading all over her face. I think she’s flustered. Maybe not straight.

I push further, continuing to sing casually as my free hand rests on my shorts, tapping the rhythm, wondering if she was watching me beneath the dark sunglasses hiding her green emerald eyes. “How 'bout I just take my time? You call up my line, I fall up inside you, Girls need love, too, I know.”

Her chest is heaving, and her throat bobs as she swallows, fidgeting on her seat into a more comfortable position. She is flustered. Definitely not straight.

“You aight?” I ask, trying my best to bury the growing grin on my face. I got her squirming on her seat, me, just by singing. I mean I knew my singing was good but damn (or more likely it was the lyrics but whatever).

Zari clears her throat, chuckling awkwardly. “It’s just so hot all the time,” she sighs, rubbing her chest and avoiding my gaze as we reach the office building.

“Yeah,” I agree, eyes locked on her side profile, parking the car by the front entrance.

Finally, the dark haired girl turns to me, lifting the sunglasses off her face. There she is, those green eyes that made me feel intimidated and comforted all at once.

“Thank you so much again love,” she smiles and I can feel myself melting away.

“Anytime Iz, forreal.”

Our eyes lock just for a second longer than might be considered casual, until she lowers her gaze to my neck. Zari’s long, slender fingers reach over, dragging across my neck as she fiddles with my chain, fixing it with gentle hands. Her long nails scratch softly against my skin as she does so, sending jolts across my body, all the way to each finger and each toe. I nearly choke as she holds the cross between her fingertips admiring it for a moment, before her other hand pulls some of my hair caught underneath the chain free. I can hear my pulse in my ears.

“The lock was showing,” Zari hums pulling away. It takes everything in me not to pull her back in, so instead I squeeze the wheel underneath my hands till my knuckles go red.

��O-oh,” I mumble in a hushed tone from the way I was trying to keep my breathing under control. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the girl smiles as if oblivious to the effect she’s having on me. I wonder if she really is.

As she climbs out, her phone falls off her lap to the floor of my car. I quickly pick it up for her, glancing at the screen as I do.

Jasper 3 missed calls

“Oh oops, thank you,” Zari smiles, grabbing the phone from my hand, not seeing the way I was eyeing the screen. “Have a good meeting Paige.”

“You too,” I smile, following her with my gaze until she’s inside.

Jasper huh. Maybe she was straight after all. Rubbing my jaw, I pull back into the highway, squirming on my seat as my thighs press together. My mind is spinning, still feeling the tingles of Zari’s touch on my neck, her fingernails dragging against my skin. The goosebumps are travelling straight to my core.

“Shit,” I mumble to myself, feeling the way I was dripping into my boxers, hand on my thigh itching to travel into my shorts, to swirl in my folds at the thought of Izara touching me like that. Not now Paige, later.

Glancing at the clock I realise I’m already nearly late to my meeting. Fuck it, worth it. As long as I got that girl to work on time.

Jasper had called me five times. FIVE TIMES in 24 hours. I had been on edge since yesterday, the pain in my shoulders growing more tense. Frankly, I was surprised by the fact I still had any teeth left from all the teeth grinding I’d been doing. I needed to disconnect, turn my phone off and have a self-care day. So I’d found myself at the communal gym in the apartment building before work, 30 minutes of stairmaster and some lifting bound to get my mind off things.

“4, 5, 6, 7… 8…” I count to myself, doing back extensions as I hold a plate weight against my chest. Sweat dripping down my back, I climb off the machine and place the weight down, nothing in my mind but the burn in my upper back.

“Mornin’” I hear a familiar voice from behind me, hoarse with sleep still. My head snaps back and it’s exactly who I expected it to be. Paige, in grey basketball shorts and a navy blue Uconn tee, slightly too small, apparent from the way it fits tightly around her shoulders and arms. Her eyes are still red and puffy from sleep.

Suddenly I feel the need to check myself in the mirror, tightening my ponytail and fixing the pink lululemon set hoping the blonde doesn’t notice. I wish I’d worn a bit of makeup. Still, I feel relieved when I see her. I could use a friend right now.

“Oh good morning!” I smile, taking a sip of my water bottle. “Don’t you have a weight room at College Park?”

Paige scoffs looking around offended. “Wow, I can leave if you want me to.”

I giggle like a schoolgirl, my hand subconsciously landing on her arm as I laugh. I feel it flex underneath my touch, surprisingly muscular.

“No, no, I’m glad to see you. Just surprised,” I say, pulling back, watching a grin grow on the taller girl’s face.

“The AC’s still broke so,” the blonde explains, looking around the gym. “You doing upper body?”

“I am,” I hum, walking towards the weights, my eyes flickering to Paige’s reflection in the mirror. It was insane how she had clearly just rolled out of bed, no makeup, hair slicked back in a ponytail and still she looks great.

“Same, same,” she mumbles, watching closely as I stretch my arms and wrists to prepare. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” I say smiling. “Shoulder press?”

“You got it,” Paige agrees, grabbing a bench and setting it up for us. “Ladies first.”

I laugh again, planting myself on the bench with a set of 15s. To my shock Paige grabs them from my hands, giving me a pair of 20s instead.

“Paigeuh!” I complain but she shakes her head.

“C’mon, I’mma be your personal trainer,” she grins, standing behind me and meeting my eyes in the mirror. Her hands land on my shoulders, rubbing gently, immediately easing the pain there. I nearly moan, forgetting my surroundings for a moment.

“Look at these shoulders,” she says, squeezing the muscles there. “You can do the 20s Iz. I’ll spot you.”

She sounds so sure, so confident that I have no other choice but to feel confident too, picking up the weights and getting into position.

“Gimme eight.”

Nodding, I begin to do one rep after another, a shake in my arms already visible on the fifth. I focus on trying to keep a straight face on the sixth, Paige notices my struggle and places her fingers underneath my elbows, sparks shooting up my arms.

“I gotchu, two more.”

Something about her touch, her belief in me powers me through it. After two more reps, the blonde grabs the weights from me.

“Holy shit,” I gasp, rubbing my forehead. Paige chuckles, looking at my reflection.

“Ion think I’ve ever heard you swear before,” she says, making me laugh.

“Well lucky you I guess we’re really friends now,” I reply, meeting her blue eyes in the mirror. She’s biting on her bottom lip, staring, hand resting on my shoulder.

“You’re tense as hell, yknow?” Paige laughs, feeling my shoulders. My skin burns underneath her touch and I know it’s because it’s been a while since I’ve had anyone that near. It feels good to be touched. Even by a friend.

I nod. “I know.”

Furrowing her brows, the blonde begins to massage my stiff shoulders, so gently I feel like a baby bird in her hands, the way her thumbs dig into my muscles ever so slightly. My eyes fluttering shut, I hum compliantly, feeling my muscles begin to relax under her touch.

“Is this okay?” Paige whispers, her voice merely audible.

“Mhm,” I murmur. “A little harder is okay too.”

I hear a heavy exhale from behind me when the blonde’s fingers press deeper, massaging against my upper back, moving upwards to the sides of my neck. Goosebumps travel all over me. I feel a familiar burn, a faint memory of a feeling from the past spreading over my upper thighs and lower abdomen, stirring within me.

“Like this?”

Her voice is gravelly, a soft mutter on her lips. I feel myself melting underneath her touch, a heat pooling between my legs from the skilled way she works my muscles. I could tell she was skilled with her hands, just from the sure, confident way in which she moves against me..

All of a sudden I hear the door go, and I know the blonde hears it too as her hands retract, both our gazes turning to the entrance where another neighbour walks in, greeting politely.

“Hello,” I smile, my voice coming out soft. My mind spins as I grab the weights again, ready for a second round. But part of me is distracted by the stirring in my stomach, still apparent, still distracting. I watch Paige settle behind me, her face even redder than mine.

“Ready?” She asks, our gazes locking. I lift the weights, preparing for the movement.

“Ready.”

“Give me two more please,” I encourage the blonde girl, her mouth shut tight in a narrow line, brows furrowed in concentration as she stands beside me, staring into the mirror, shaking her head.

“Ahh shit,” she breathes, hissing as her arms shake, not able to bring the next bicep curl further than halfway.

“C’mon, two more,” I demand, placing my fingertips underneath her wrists, fooling the blonde’s brain that I’m helping. It’s enough for Paige to finish two more reps, letting out a relieved groan as she places the weights down.

“You’re tryna kill me Iz,” she groans, rubbing her sweaty face with her hand, veins becoming more prominent from the strain.

“Nope! Just knew you could do better,” I smile, grabbing my smaller set of weights for my final rep. My body felt exhausted in the best way, all my worries completely forgotten. In the mirror I can see the baby hairs curling around my face, spilling out from my high pony, sweat dripping from my neck, down my chest, between my cleavage. Eyes flickering to Paige, I notice her gaze on my ass as she settles to stand behind me, but I don’t think much of it.

“Alright, let’s go,” Paige smiles, meeting my stare in the mirror.

Picking up the weights, I begin to do my bicep curls. One, two. On the third one I’m already struggling, making me huff and subconsciously swing my hips ever so slightly to help my hands curl all the way.

The blonde tuts behind me, her hands finding my waist with ease, holding tight. It surprises me enough that I nearly drop the weights.

“Watch your core Iz,” Paige murmurs, meeting my gaze in the mirror. Her front is hovering just an inch away from my back, radiating with heat and electricity as her hands drag around to the exposed skin of my upper abdomen. “Squeeze here,” Paige whispers, her touch moving downwards and sideways to the sides of my hips. “And here.”

Lips slightly parted, I nod, my chest positively heaving now. Focusing on flexing my core muscles, I keep doing reps with a newfound focus. Though the way my body tingles is distracting, making my head swirl.

“That’s it,” Paige coos, her arms snaking around to help me with the last few reps, hands supporting my wrists. For some reason, an involuntary trembling breath spills from my mouth as she inches closer, the curve of my ass pressing against her. I suppose I’m just not used to this sort of closeness with my friends yet.

“Aaaand eight, yes ma’am!” The blonde grins, grabbing the weights and setting them back for me, brushing closer to my back before walking off. The loss of contact brings me back from the swirling thoughts in my head, as I blink and take in my surroundings, and the blonde girl in front of me. I notice the way her biceps have grown from the strain, arms covered in veins and glistening with sweat.

“That was so good,” I sigh, throwing my arm over my face as I try to catch my breath. Paige holds up her hand, and I high five it with a giggle.

“Good?!” She calls out. “You a masochist or sum?”

I scoff, a little taken aback by the crude question. “Rude!” I laugh, red in the face and playfully shove the blonde off. She’s barely affected, my push not hard enough to shake her from her stand.

“You got work?” Paige asks, sipping on her water, jaw prominent as she throws her head back. The veins on her hand are still popping, wrapped around the bottle.

“Uhh, yes. But I do have to shower first.”

“You need a ride?”

I shake my head, she already drove me once. That has to be enough.

“Oh no thank you,” I smile, walking towards the exit, the blonde following at my heel and opening the door for me.

“You sure? I don’t mind,” Paige asks again, more insistent. Like she wants to. But I couldn’t let her.

“No, no, I promise.”

“So, how’s Dallas?” KK’s voice comes through my speaker. I’m sitting by my cubby at College Park Center, still half empty. Part of me refused to leave my stuff here, to decorate, to make it home. But I was slowly trying to change things around, forcing myself to place some sports bras and shorts on the top shelf. That would be a start.

“Uhh, it’s Dallas,” I murmur, brushing through my hair, still damp from my post practice shower.

“You forgettin’ us already?” The girl on the phone teases, making me scoff as I tie my shoes back on.

“Y’all wouldn’t let me.”

“You right girl,” KK replies. I pack my Nike bag, throwing on a black hoodie over my sports bra and shorts. Practice had run late and I’d spend my time in the shower, trying to revise plays, my arms killing me from the workout earlier.

“You try barbecue yet?” The girl asks. She had texted me ten minutes ago, claiming it was an emergency. Ever since I called she’d been asking me trivial questions about everything she could think of - clearly me and her had different definitions of emergency.

“Not yet, haven’t been out much actually,” I admit, grabbing the phone where it’s set on the shelf, KK’s face taking up the screen, watching me.

“Well I was gon ask if Dallas has hot girls but guess you haven’t seen em then.”

I laugh, throwing the bag over my shoulder. “Well, actually…” I start, a small grin growing across my face.

“Yo, I see that grin P Boogers!” KK gasps. “You haven’t told me about no girl.”

I put my hands up in defeat, mouth twisting into a tight smile. “Nah, it’s not worth mentioning. She ain’t even from here. She’s British.”

“Whatttt???? She hot?”

“She’s fine, way outta my league.”

The girl on the phone scoffs, her expression turning serious. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m forreal!” I laugh. “She’s classy. Bro she drinks wine.”

“Damn, so she’s grown. Didn’t you say sumn about being celibate?” KK asks, making me groan.

I rub my face, walking out of the dressing room into the confusing hallways of College Park Center. First left, then right, I tell myself, KK’s voice echoing around the narrow corridor.

“Nahhh don’t remind me. I was outta my mind after that Natty win,” I reply, opening door after another to get out of the building.

“So what’s her nameeee, send a pic,” the girl says, her voice coy.

“I think she’s straight,” I scoff, walking through another door.

KK cackles loudly. “Like that’s stopped you before.”

“Alright, bye now.”

“Wait wait, I miss you,” the younger girl pouts. God, if she knew how bad I missed her. Missed all of them.

“Miss you too KK, y’all gotta come visit soon.”

“Yea, love you.”

“Love you, bye.”

I hang up, the silence echoing around me tugging at my heartstrings. But before I let the sadness wash over me, I’m met with Izara standing in a corridor by the exit, tapping away at her phone.

“Oh, hey Paige,” she smiles widely when she spots me, wearing a long black skirt and a sleeveless white turtleneck, looking beautiful as ever. Of course, what else would you expect?

“Hey Iz,” I smile, walking over to her. “You heading out?”

She nods, showing me her phone. “About to Uber,” the girl replies. With a roll of my eyes I open the door, nodding my head toward the open air where the sun was beginning to set.

“No, Paige, I couldn’t,” she complains but I’m too stubborn to give up.

“Don’t make me hold this heavy ass door open more than I need to,” I complain, still feeling the burn in my biceps and shoulders from the earlier workout. “We both going home anyway.”

With a dramatic scoff, Izara admits defeat, walking past me. I follow her, watching as the orange light of the setting sun paints us both warm and golden.

“Yeah I thought so,” I hum confidently, mostly to myself.

Zari’s hand pushes my arm playfully. “I only said yes because you seemed so pitiful,” she claims, head held high as always. My heart grows warm when the girl comes to a halt before her door, so used to me opening them for her already. I do so, knowing I was pleasing her. Good. I could easily be her friend knowing I got to have these moments to please her. That’s all I needed.

We pull out of the parking lot, serenaded by the R&B songs playing in the car, too drained and hungry after the long day to talk. But it felt comfortable, I had missed this. Having someone to just be quiet with.

The silence between us is soon interrupted, this time Zari’s stomach rumbling. Guess she was as hungry as I was.

“Shit, sorry,” she chuckles, covering her face with embarrassment. I laugh too, finding it endearing, the way she was always so confident and together but letting me see her flustered. “I didn’t have time to eat lunch, Linda had a surprise meeting with me.”

I glance at the girl. “Good news?”

She nods with a grin. “Yes, she liked the video I made. My first solo project. The one we filmed at your first practice?”

I smile too, the lightness of relief in her voice something I must not have heard before. “That’s awesome Iz, not that I’m surprised.”

From the corner of my eye, I watch as she turns her body to me.

“You know, only my family calls me Iz. Well Izzie. And some childhood friends,” she starts. “And you now, I guess.”

“I-is that okay?” I ask, not even realising I’d come up with another nickname all on my own.

She thinks for a while, a coy smile spreading on her face. “Yes, it is. I like it.”

“Well Iz, you wanna pick up a lil something to eat? I’m starving.”

The girl looks at me clearly mulling it over in her head.

“Ion wanna mess up your plans, but you shouldn’t have to cook every day.”

She sighs, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay… And I’m payin.”

“Paigeuh!”

“C’mon, let’s celebrate your big win.”

“I can’t believe they do take-away ribs here,” Izara chuckles, holding both of our meals while I park the car, pulling up in a desolate parking lot. The sun had long set, turning the sky black and filling it with stars.

“They don’t do that in London?” I ask.

“I don’t know, I don’t really eat ribs,” the girl admits. Turning to her about to grab my food, my eyes skim her top, the way it hugs her breasts tight, the way the white fab- wait. White.

“Uh Iz?”

“Yeah?”

I clear my throat, frustrated that I hadn’t thought it through.

“Ribs are probably the messiest food ever, and you’re wearing white,” I murmur, making the girl glance down at herself.

“No no, don’t worry. I’m a very neat eater,” Izara chuckles lightheartedly but I shake my head.

“Nah, you don’t get it. It don’t matter, you’re gon make a mess.”

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I reach into the backseat and pull out a large black t-shirt from my bag, handing it to the girl.

“You want me to put this on?” Izara questions, holding it in her hand disbelievingly.

“Ion want your pretty shirt to get ruined,” I tell her, our eyes meeting. “It’s clean, I promise.”

Hesitantly, the girl pulls it over her head, careful not to mess up her hair and makeup. Seeing the way the shirt, my shirt, swallows her whole, the way it drapes over her body makes me swoon. And I know I’m staring but I can’t look away, or kill the smile spreading across my face from the flutters growing in my chest.

Izara looks down, letting out a small chuckle. “Alright, guess I’m ready to eat.”

“You look it,” I laugh, handing her the smaller portion of ribs, and the side of mashed potatoes.

“So… how do I do this?” She asks almost shyly, looking at the meat drenched in sauce.

“You just gotta go for it ma,” I encourage her, the nickname spilling without any intention or thought as I grab a rib and bite into it, the sauce already dripping down my chin, making the girl next to me laugh.

“You already made a mess!” She snorts, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggles.

I shrug, taking another bite, the savoury flavour soothing my hunger already.

“C’monn, don’t be shy,” I cheer, mouth full of food. Finally, the girl takes a tiny nibble off the corner, careful not to mess up her face.

“Yo did I give you my shirt for nothing? Bite into it Iz.”

Rolling her eyes the dark haired girl finally opens her pretty mouth wider, taking a proper bite. I clap my hands, making even more of a mess on all my fingers. Izara dabs a napkin around her mouth gently, wiping the sauce off before speaking.

“That’s… Really good,” she admits. I nod knowingly, taking another bite, which makes the girl beside me laugh once again.

“Oh god, how’d you manage to get it on your nose Paige,” she giggles, shaking her head at me. “I didn’t know you were such a messy eater.”

“Oh you got no idea,” I grin, wiping my nose on a tissue. Izara, however, is too busy eating to pick up on my implied meaning. Soon, her face is covered in brown sauce too, as we take turns laughing at one another.

“This is my sensory hell,” she whines, eyeing her sticky hands. “I’m overwhelmed.”

“Hollup, hollup,” I snicker, grabbing a tissue with my clean hands and leaning over. Ever so carefully, I hold her chin, wiping as softly as I can - not because she feels vulnerable or weak, but because I’m afraid if I do it too harshly I might disrupt her and make her go away. I didn’t want her to.

Izzie bats her eyes, looking everywhere but my gaze until I’m done. A soft blush radiates her cheeks until I finally pull away, fingertips tingling from the contact. Clearing her throat, the girl interrupts the moment.

“How’s your mac n cheese?” She asks, pointing to the side in my takeaway box.

“So good,” I say. “You wanna try?”

She hesitates. “Is that okay?”

Rolling my eyes I grab a forkful of the macaroni oozing with cheese, feeding it to the girl without thinking much more about the gesture. Only when our eyes lock as her mouth spreads open for me, my heart begins to pound in my chest. Her plump, wide lips wrapping around the fork. That familiar heat begins to pool between my legs again. Shit. I quickly pull away, looking down, listening to the satisfied hum from the girls mouth.

“Oh wow. That’s the best mac n cheese I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?” I ask with a grin, watching her lit up face as she nods.

“Yes.”

“Let’s switch then,” I say confidently, taking her mashed potatoes and handing the dark haired girl my side instead.

“No, Paige don’t be silly,” she resists, but I remain stubborn.

“Already done.”

Izara smiles gratefully, taking another bite of the macaroni and humming with joy as she eats it. I didn’t like mashed potatoes much, but it was all worth it to see her face gleaming like this.

The girl goes quiet for a while, watching the cars outside driving by before she speaks.

“Thank you Paige,” she softly says. “I’ve had such a bad couple of days, you made me forget all about it.”

My heart aches, I wanna wrap her up in my arms and pull her in - but it seems a little too much even for me so I remain still, eyes locked on her leaning on the passenger seat in my t-shirt.

“Jasper?” I ask, maybe reaching but too curious not to say anything.

Her brows are furrowed, her catlike eyes flickering to me.

“I didn’t mean to look but saw the missed calls yesterday, sorry,” I admit. Taking it in, Izzie looks out the window again, letting out a deep sigh.

“Yeah, Jasper.”

“Ex-boyfriend?” I continue to question.

The girl fiddles with her rings. “Something like that.”

I kiss my teeth, turning to look out the window too.

“Figures, seen my friends get fucked over men like that all the time.”

She scoffs, licking her lips. “How’d you know it was him who did the fucking over?”

“You don’t seem like the type,” I say gently, eyes flickering to her. “You don’t move to Dallas, Texas over anything small.”

“Or maybe I’m running away,” she suggests, making me shake my head.

“I dunno about that Miss Schedule,” I chuckle carefully. “Besides, men have a way of doing that.”

Her brows furrow and she meets my gaze. “Women do too, you know.”

Bursting into a single laugh, I feel amused at her words. Like she’d know anything about it.

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve dated women.”

Oh.

Holdup.

So you’re telling me, the girl next to me isn’t straight? That my initial suspicions weren’t just hopeless wishes of an extremely horny person. No, she’s bi. Of course she’s bi, there’s no way a straight woman could dress like she does, have the charisma she does.

Suddenly my mind is swirling around the memories of each glance, each time our hands grazed one another, each praise that spilled from Izzie’s lips, each time my eyes flickered to her to only find that she’s already watching. Suddenly it all means more. Oh fuck, what am I doing.

“Youuu… okay there?” Izara asks, her tone uneasy.

I finally snap out of it. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I had no idea, I just assum-”

“Don’t worry, people usually think I’m straight,” she laughs it off easily, but I can tell it’s bothering her a little. My reaction.

“My bad, I shouldn’t have assumed,” I say sheepishly.

“It’s not your fault, truthfully, I don’t even know if I still am or if it was just a phase.”

Oh.

Surely she would’ve felt it too, the electricity between us. The way it felt the moment our eyes met, when we touched. Surely that would be plenty of confirmation for her sexuality. Unless it was just me feeling it. Fuck, who cares. I’m celibate, I’m happy, I’m going to be Rookie of The Year and I’m not gonna worry about girls. Even ones as perfect as Izara.

“You take an Uber to work every day?” I ask to change the topic.

“I’ve got to. I don’t have a license here. Or a car,” Izzie answers, making me scoff.

“I can drive you, easy,” I suggest.

The dark haired girl shakes her head, meeting my eyes. Challenging me.

“Absolutely not. That’s final.”

“Izzie, c’mon. We go to the same place most days anyway. Lemme drive you,” I insist but she won’t budge, her eyes as hard as her stance on the topic. That is until I find the magic word.

“Please,” I plead, softening my tone.

Her eyes soften, and with a final sigh I know I’ve got her.

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keepingitformyself · 2 days ago

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Hello, how are your day going?? could you please write a fluff natasha x reader where r loves to draw and paint and is very good at it? giving some drawings to nat, doodling on her arm when r is bored, drawing/painting nat thinking she isn't noticing (ofc she does baby is a super spy🤏) and having a sketchbook with a looooot of sketches and drawings of nat. R could try to teach nat how to paint while they have those cute dates where they do a painting of eachother yk? also, idk if you'll want to add that but after i finished Arcane, my dream was to draw Vi's back tatto on someones back, so if you want to maybe r could ask to make it on nat

hope you can understand my ideas, english isn't my first language :/

everything is blank until you draw me

A/N: hello! thank you for requesting. hope you enjoy :))

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha first noticed your quirk on the way home from a mission.

it’s hot in cairo around this time of year. humid, sticky weather. everyone was suffering from mild heat exhaustion, suits were unzipped and shallow breaths were heard among the jet cabin.

it was a taxing mission. the team was silent in a quiet mourning.

but you sat in your seat in a far corner, barely showing any sign of the discomfort everyone else was in.

instead you had your face pushed into a leather bound journal in your lap, a pen in hand. the strokes you were making on the paper were far too wide for you to be writing something down.

no, you were drawing. natasha concluded.

no one else seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn’t care enough to point it out.

natasha didn’t really pay any heed to it. she was more concerned with passing around iv packs to the team, making sure they didn’t pass out.

when she got to you, you immediately closed the journal on your lap. her eyebrow rose at your behavior, but she didn’t question it. there was a boundary that you were entitled to, and she wasn’t one to cross any lines unless she needed to.

you looked up at her expectantly, wordlessly she handed you an iv pack, but you shook your head and pushed her hand away.

“i’m okay.” you said. “my body is good at regulating body temperature.”

natasha didn’t say anything, she already knew this, but call it good camaraderie. though, she tried not to notice the way your hand twitched in your lap, the same hand that covered the journal under it.

“save it for someone who needs it.” you added after a few seconds.

she considered you for a few moments. for the most part you seemed fine, aside from the slight twitch in your hand. she figured you just wanted a moment for yourself so she let you be.

natasha gave a curt nod before continuing on.

the quiet hum of the quinjet was the only thing that could be heard as she moved through the space. natasha had stolen a glance more than twice between you and her task at hand.

she wouldn’t pry but her fascination had grown more as she thought about the way your hands wrapped around the worn journal. how your fingers flicked at the edges of the frayed pages.

later that evening, when the team had finally settled back into the compound and were settled in their sleeping quarters, she found you again.

it was very late into the night. nearly nearing two in the morning.

this time you’d found a small nook by the large windows in the common room, you’d looked off into the night horizon, the pen in your hand making rapid strokes across the paper.

natasha didn’t try to hide her curiosity this time.

“drawing again?” she asked, her voice was soft.

you flinched at her voice and natasha noticed the way your hand tightened around the journal. your mouth opened and closed, as to find the words to ask how she’d noticed your recreation of putting pen to paper.

as if reading your mind natasha spoke up,

“i think you forget that i’m a spy and it’s my job to notice these things, Y/N.” she joked, plopping down on a seat near to you.

you glance down at the book in your hands, a sheepish smile graces your lips.

“it helps me…process.”

natasha tilts her head, elbows resting on her knees as she leans closer.

“can i see?”

you hesitate, but gulp down your nerves and slowly turn the journal towards her. the whole page was filled with dark shadows, lines to imitate the image of smoke, jagged lines to form silhouettes of crumbling buildings, faceless people running, catching their final moments of breath, and of them being carried away with help.

it was haunting, terrifying, but deeply fascinating all the same.

“is this from today?” natasha asked, voice careful.

you nodded. “it sounds weird, but…i remember things when i’m drawing them.” you pause, chewing your lip, “and i don’t want to forget them…not fully. so it’s like i take the weight of it and i trap it here, instead of…”

“…instead of carrying it.” natasha finished for you, her green eyes meet yours with a understanding.

you nodded again, looking down.

“it’s good.” she said after a moment. “you’re really good.”

the faintest smile graces your lips,

“i’ve been drawing since i was kid. but it’s kind of different now…it can be something really nice to look but sometimes it just gets really—”

“dark.” natasha finished again.

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. natasha knew exactly what you’d meant.

over the next few weeks, the habit of drawing became something natasha couldn’t ignore.

on long missions, you’d often scribble quietly in a corner. at meeting briefings you’d doodle into the margins of notes. and once, she had sat beside you during a meeting when you’d wordlessly slid your journal towards her.

it was a sketch of her.

she was surprised, there was so much to look at. to unpack. she didn’t know whether to be impressed with how well you drew her or to be impressed with the way you’d captured her.

she didn’t how to place what it was; something vulnerable or strong, or both.

“you drew me.” she said softly.

you shrugged, a soft blush coating your cheeks.

“you’re interesting to draw.”

natasha smirked, she didn’t say anything, but she’d felt a small stir in her chest at your words.

then on you grew more comfortable with your sketches dedicated to your new muse.

it started off small—a simple sketch left on the table one morning before natasha had left for a solo mission. she’d found it tucked under her designated coffee mug. a doodle of a little black widow spider spinning on a web, with cartoonish eyes and a cute little bow on its head.

the detail was impressive, even for a quick piece, and at the bottom you’d written a small note.

thought your namesake could use a makeover. meet widow 2.0: terrifyingly adorable.

come back in one piece.

she smiled at your note, and without a word tucked the small piece of paper into her pocket.

after that, it became sort of a ritual. before a mission, whether it was long or short, you’d leave her something— sometimes a sketch of her infamous batons mid-strike, other times a miniature rendition of the team in cartoonish proportions.

there was one where you’d drawn a mini portrait of natasha smirking, with exaggerated sharp cheekbones and fierce eyes. the caption on it read,

don’t worry, i dialed down the intimidation factor…slightly.

they were ridiculous, but natasha loved it.

one day, natasha approached you in the common area, holding a new doodle you’d slipped into her jacket. it was a small portrait of her, but unlike the others, this one showed her more casual. more real. no weapons, no scowl, just her leaning with her arms crossed, a small smile playing on her lips.

she held it up with a raised brow. “you’ve been busy.”

you glanced up from your journal, a shy grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“you noticed.”

“i always notice,” she replied, and the warmth in her tone made your cheeks flush.

“just thought you could use the reminder,” you said, shrugging. “you’re more than just a fighter, you know.”

natasha stared at the drawing for a moment, something unreadable flickering in her expression. then she folded it carefully and slid it into the inside of her jacket pocket.

“thank you,” she said simply, but her voice carried the weight of everything she didn’t say.

other times, you’d hand her sketches directly, usually without ceremony. a scrap of paper passed her way while the team prepped gear, a folded corner of your journal you tore out just before a briefing.

they ranged from serious-battle-ready stances and sharp silhouettes to utterly absurd, like the one of natasha holding a massive sandwich, labeled

big hero energy.

and natasha kept every single one.

“you know you don’t have to keep these, right?” you teased her when you caught her slipping another into the pocket of her duffel bag.

“i want to,” she said without hesitation. “they’re like…good luck.”

you didn’t argue with her logic, but a small smile lingered on your lips as you turned back to your journal.

unbeknownst to you natasha had a growing collection of your sketches tucked away in her bedroom. a small metal tin, the kind where you gift holiday cookies in—where they’re carefully preserved.

she’d look at them sometimes. when nights were long or dark and life was too heavy, she’d pull one out and trace the lines with her fingers, remembering the way you handed it to her with that quiet, knowing smile.

eventually though, your art started to spill over the edges of your journal.

it became part of your rhythm together. a constant, quiet act of trust. but there were moments, especially in the middle of long missions, when you didn’t have your journal or anything to draw with.

it started as a joke.

one night during a stakeout, the boredom and restlessness started bubbling out of you, and you found yourself tapping your fingers against natasha’s arm.

she caught your arm mid-tap and raised and eyebrow.

“no journal today?” she asked, smirking.

“nope,” you replied, frowning as you remembered how much in a rush you were that you forgot your journal. you leaned against the wall with a sigh.

“guess you’ll have to entertain me instead.”

“or,” she said, producing a pen from one of her pockets, “you could make yourself useful.” she handed it to you with a playful glint in her eye.

you hesitated for a moment before taking the pen from her hands and uncapping it.

“don’t complain if i mess it up.” you warned, shifting closer.

“just try not to make me look ridiculous.” she said, but the slight curve of her lips said she didn’t really mind it.

after that drawing on natasha became the norm when under a circumstance that denied you paper.

on long flights you’d trace floral vines curling up her forearm, and she’d be asleep as it happened. and during long nights in safe houses you’d sketch constellations of the stars on the back of her hand.

natasha never washed them off until she really had to.

sometimes, you didn’t even ask anymore. you’d just give her a look and she’d extend her arm towards you, wordlessly inviting you to begin.

and as your pen traced her skin she’d sit still, occasionally glancing down to see the progress.

“what’s this one?” she whispered. you’d drawn a small sleeping wolf, curling under a moonlit sky along her bicep.

“strength.” you replied softly.

natasha didn’t say anything, but her eyes softened in a way that made your heart stutter.

your drawings become more than just a way to pass time. they became a language of their own. a way of grounding yourself, of tethering your anxious thoughts to something steady.

and natasha became part of that steadying force.

“do i ever get to draw on you?” she teased once.

“maybe,” you said leaning back to admire your work. “if you’re good.”

she chuckled, shaking her head. a quiet smile tugging at her lips.

it was a silent agreement between the two of you now. you’d find your solace in the lines you traced along her skin and she’d find hers in letting you.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff imagine

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alg3a · 3 days ago

Note

hellooo your smuts brought me back from the grave and if you’re taking any requests, i would love to see your take on a jayce x fem reader. i kind of want to see a shy student scenario with a pervy student jayce 😩 omg pls tell me you see the vision lol!

hello! YESSS i definitely see the vision, i hope i executed it alright! thank you so much for this request. i was sort of worried at first because i don’t typically write for jayce alone—normally i just write jayvik or viktor—but this was SOOOO much fun! probably actually my favorite of the three fics i have so far. hope you enjoy!

staring

pervy!jayce x innocent!f!reader

3.9k, MDNI, no use of y/n

description: After setting eyes on the handsome boy in your lecture, and staring at him every class after that, you find out that your father has sponsored his research and invited him to dinner. After a particularly frustrating meal, you run upstairs to your room, not expecting him to follow you.

warnings: nsfw, fem receiving oral, pervy jayce, innocent/inexperienced reader, sneaky sex, equal bits plot and porn i think, jayce covers readers mouth, creampie, hooray!

a/n: this is my first ever request! i hope i did it some justice. if you like it, feel free to send your own request! i don’t have guidelines yet, but chances are i’ll writer whatever you suggest.

The first time you saw him was across the circular lecture hall and you were quickly drawn in, fixated on every tiny movement of his. You didn’t even notice that you were staring until you realized he caught you. It was near impossible not to look at him, with his wide ambitious eyes and even wider shoulders, he was a difficult sight to steer away from. That didn’t make it any less embarrassing when he noticed your lingering gaze.

The position he caught you in was so juvenile and schoolgirl-esque that it seemed only fitting for a bright pink blush to span your face. You had a palm against your cheek, your head slightly tilted, and your bottom lip was caught between your front teeth. Your right leg crossed your leg and the suspended foot swung in tiny little distracted circles below your desk.

When his eyes landed on yours, his eyebrows furrowed a bit. Not out of anger, more like he was trying to focus his gaze on you to see whether or not you were really staring at him. Then a little smile crept onto his lips around the same time you had realized that he had caught you and you instantly averted your gaze. You tried not to look at him again during lecture, but whenever the professor in the center of the circular lecture hall crossed in front of him, your eyes stayed behind and you allowed yourself a glance in his direction.

You wondered how you hadn’t noticed him before. Perhaps this was the first time he sat in that spot so far this semester. If that was the case, it certainly wasn’t the last time he sat there. For the next few weeks, he was amongst the first students to arrive in lecture and always made sure to secure that exact same seat, not one to the left, right, or above. You’d never seen anybody be so particular about a seat in lecture before. Not even you, who had a penchant for patterns and regulation.

Each passing class only stoked your burning obsession with this boy, whose name you didn’t even know. It got so bad that you had difficulty paying attention in class some days, which was totally unlike you. You were a perfect student, always dedicated and responsible in school, so why now? Why this one pretty boy in one silly lecture?

Your father wasn’t happy when you let him know you received a C on your midterm.

You came from an upper house in Piltover and you were your parents’ only daughter. There was an absurd amount of pressure on you to uphold the standards so eloquently listed by your older siblings and your parents.

“How will it affect your class grade?” Your mother asks sensibly, her voice low and polite and she sets out her favorite dishes from the china cabinet.

“Well, it’s not good,” you begin to say, ready to explain how what really matters is your final project and the final assessment, how they’re weighted more heavily, but your father interrupts.

“Not good?” He chortles, spread out in his armchair the room over. “Abhorrent is more like it!”

“Dad,” you begin to plead, but you are once again interrupted.

“Enough! I’ll look into a tutor and you will spend your time studying and asking your professor for extra credit.”

You hated when he did this. You weren’t a kid anymore, if you wanted a tutor you’d ask a classmate or a TA, and you had read your syllabus enough to know that your professor didn’t afford extra credit to his students. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself in school…or at least that’s what you thought. After all, if a silly crush on a stranger in lecture was enough to tank your grades, were you really all that capable?

You could’ve argued with your dad, but decided against it. It was almost time for dinner and you didn’t want to ruin your appetite with a fight.

“Go get dressed, dear, we’re having a guest for dinner tonight,” your mother said, changing the tone of the conversation.

“Who?” You asked, realizing that she was taking the good china out for a reason.

“One of the students that your father has decided to sponsor.”

Oh, that’s right. The academy just had their Innovation Gala, in which the young inventors of Piltover are given the opportunity to wow rich folks with their ideas in hopes of receiving some funding. Your father had been extending his fortune to students since you were very young. He saw them more as business opportunities than as students.

“Well, who are they?”

“A bright young man,” your father said, his mood instantly lightening. “Lots of promise. A grade or two above you, I believe.”

You think of the inventors you’ve met at the academy as you go upstairs to your bedroom to change, wondering who the guest will be.

You slip into a knee-length powder blue dress and a soft white sweater. You’re brushing your hair when you hear the doorbell ring from downstairs. Muffled exchanges between your parents and the mystery guest pass through your closed bedroom door. You’re applying your lipgloss and staring into your vanity when your mind begins to wander. You can’t get your mind off of the boy from lecture. Would he like this shade of lipgloss? Would he like your dress, your sweater, your shoes, your hair…

Your father shouts your name from downstairs. “Come down, it’s time for dinner!”

You sheath your lipgloss and straighten out your dress before heading downstairs. You're halfway down the spiral staircase before you can see tonight’s guest, and when you do, you aren’t sure you have enough strength in your legs to keep walking down.

He calls your name again, this time wearing a smile on his mouth. Your father had a tendency to turn into a jovial old man when around people that weren’t you or your family.

“Come, meet Jayce,” he says, his arm wrapped around the boy from your lecture.

You only realize how hard you're gripping the railing once you reach the bottom of the stairs. You force a polite smile past your agape expression and walk toward your father and the boy. Your father is by no means a short man, but the boy towers over him. It’s impossible not to pay attention to how his dress shirt clings to his chest, or how the collar wraps neatly around his strong neck, leaving a glimpse of his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you hold out your hand and he takes it, gingerly. He brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it softly as his eyes remain on yours.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, shooting a flaming arrow straight through your thudding heart. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but we have a class together, don’t we?”

Wonderful. Not only would you have to play polite with this handsome stranger, you’d have to endure the rest of the night knowing he’d caught you staring at him with bright doe eyes in the middle of class. How ironic that the boy responsible for your sinking grades would be seated beside your father tonight at dinner.

“Oh, I think you’re right,” you smile, eyes widening in feigned surprise. “Applied physics?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” he says, finally releasing your hand just as it’s about to get clammy from your excitement and anxiety. He claps your father on the back. “Your daughter is a marvel in that class, really. She’s constantly answering questions and asking even more insightful ones.”

A lie? Why?

“Is that so?” Your father asks, seemingly forgetting his prior rage at your subpar grade.

Jayce nods as your father leads you all to the dining room, where your two older brothers are already sitting. Your father takes his seat at the head of the table, your mother at the opposite end. You sit between him and Jayce, across from your brothers.

For a while, Jayce spends some time introducing himself to the two boys across from you, entertaining their small talk and questions about whatever invention sparked our father’s interest at the gala. You couldn’t focus much on the details, too distracted by the fact that your lecture crush was seated beside you in your own home, at the dinner table you’ve been eating at for twenty years. He spoke so eloquently, so politely that you thought for a second that he might have overlooked your embarrassing moment in lecture so many days ago. Perhaps it hadn’t lived in his head the same way it had haunted you.

The maids brought out the food and you began to eat. You sipped on champagne and did your best to avert your gaze from Jayce, but he got in the way of that attempt.

“So tell me,” he said, turning his attention to you, “how do you like physics?”

How did you like physics? What sort of a question was that?

“It’s a good class,” you say, simply. “I like the professor’s lecture style, it’s very…personal. I detest professors who just read from the notes and expect it to resonate.”

“Right, I’ve noticed how closely you pay attention in that class.”

It takes every ounce of self-collection you have not to choke on your champagne. Was he teasing you? Was that his way of secretly calling you out for ogling at him for every minute of the hour-long lecture?

No, you must be paranoid. Maybe he really meant it, after all he had already oversold your attentiveness in that class once tonight.

“Yes, right.”

“Truly,” he says, and you risk looking over at him beside you. “You look so enamored. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were daydreaming…lost in fantasies.”

You set your glass down with a slam.

“Mind your manners, darling,” your mother says as you collect your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you say shakily, dabbing at the splattered drink on the tablecloth with your napkin.

You hurry to finish your meal as your father changes the subject, discussing some stupid business matter of his. You can’t hear anything over the pounding of your heart in its cage. Once your dish is empty, you set your utensils down and look pointedly at your father.

“May I be excused?”

“Sweetheart, don’t be rude,” he says, his eyebrows straightening into a firm line. “We have a guest.”

“Oh, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that…I have an assignment to work on and I really don’t want my grades to slip any further.” You lie, avoiding Jayce’s eyes, although you feel them boring into the back of your head as you look at your father.

“Very well,” he says, with a wave of his hand. “You may be excused.”

You slam your napkin on the table and walk hurriedly up the stairs. You shut your door with a slam louder than you meant, but you can’t concern yourself with that now. You lay face down in your four-post bed and throw the sweater off of your arms before screaming into a pillow.

Cruel! He was just being cruel. If your staring in class hadn’t made your crush obvious, surely your behavior tonight had sold you out. Stupid, stupid, stupid! You groan out into the pillow before a slight creak of your door snaps you out of your fit.

You turn over, expecting to see your father and already thinking of ways to explain your current exasperated position, but it’s not him.

“What are you doing in my room?” You ask, coming to a seated position with your legs bent ever so slightly atop your ivory comforter.

“You mean, this isn’t the restroom?” Jayce asks, a small smirk on his mouth as he walks slowly toward you like a predator about to pounce. “I guess I didn’t follow your mother’s directions very well.”

“What are you doing?” You ask again.

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “Cute room.” He looks around for a moment before his gaze falls back on you, lying so delicately on your bed, just waiting… “Pretty close to what I imagined.”

“What you imagined?” You repeat, seemingly only able to ask questions right now.

“Mhm,” he says, finally reaching the edge of your bed. He stands over you, looming like a tower, preventing any light from reaching you. “Can you blame me? I’ve seen how you look at me during lectures.” He pauses to laugh. “You’d think I was the one lecturing the way you stare, and stare, and stare…”

“That’s not–” you try to defend yourself, but you can’t. You have no reason, no explanation, no excuse. No words.

“I don’t mind,” he says, his smile widening. “It’s cute. The way you cross and uncross your legs when I catch you looking. Oh but before that, when you’re resting your cheek on your hand and tilting your pretty little head… that’s the best.”

You look at him like he’s insane, and part of you thinks he actually might be. But the other part…

“Tell me,” he says, his knee resting on the edge of the bed, positioned for him to climb onto it if only you would just give the word. “What do you think about when you’re staring at me?”

“Jayce…” you mutter breathlessly, unsure whether or not you should say.

He leans over your sprawled out body and puts a delicate finger beneath your chin.

“You can tell me,” he smiles, his eyes betraying his true desire. “Chances are, I’ve had the same ideas.”

“I’ve,” you utter, barely able to get the words out as he pushes your head up ever so slightly, forcing you to make clearer eye contact with him. “I’ve thought about…”

Thinking those thoughts is one thing, but saying them out loud is completely different. It’s impossible.

“Use your words, honey,” he says, stroking your bottom lips with the calloused pad of his thumb, as if he were trying to coax the dirty words out.

“About laying on your table…in the empty lecture hall…”

“And?”

“And you’d…” you sigh, exasperated. Somehow trying to utter this sentence took more out of you than running a mile would. “You’d have your head…between my thighs.”

“Would I be tasting you, sweetheart?” He asks, a grin spreading across his face, revealing sharp canines. A new thought crept into your mind. What would those teeth feel like dragging your panties off? What would they feel like biting your thigh, or your neck?

“Yes,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own admission, although he pried it from your pretty, glossy pink lips. “Yes you’d be tasting me…”

“Attagirl,” he says, removing his hand from your chin and his knee from your bed.

For a moment, you aren’t sure what he’s going to do. Would he take this admission and run out of your room with it? Would he tell your parents? Would he tell his friends? Would you go to school the next day, the laughing stock of the academy?

He drops to his knees.

Your breath halts as his hands land on your knees, his eyes gazing up at you over the crest of the side of your mattress. His calloused palms rub the soft skin of your thighs, upward bound.

“Jayce?” You ask, knots in your stomach.

“I was right,” he says, the path his hands taking never ceasing. “We have had the same idea.”

He pushes up the fabric of your powder blue dress, pulling you slightly off of the bed so that his lips can find the inside of your thighs. He leaves soft kisses along them.

You watch as his hungry amber eyes flicker up, landing on your soft pink panties.

“Fuck,” he mutters against the plush skin of your thigh.

He pushes your thighs apart and pulls you closer by your hips. His nose presses against the wet spot on your panties and he takes a deep, slow breath. You watch as his eyes flicker shut, relishing the scent of you so close to him. The sight only makes you wetter.

“God, you smell so fucking good,” he groans. He flicks his tongue out and licks the fabric of your panties, leaving a damp spot. You twitch against the wet sensation, your thighs closing a bit but his hands are faster. He holds them down as he continues to tease you through the fabric.

“Jayce…” you begin to start your reprimand, ready to tell him to stop teasing you and just dive in, to eat you out like he’s starving, but you can’t utter any word other than, “please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks, looking up with that wicked grin of his. “Use your words, remember?”

“Please…please taste me…”

You feel utterly deprecated just saying such dirty things to a man you only just officially met, but if the fantasies in your head were worth anything, you two were intimately acquainted by now. And to Jayce…well those fantasies seemed to be worth a lot.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, his hands sliding up your thighs to pull down the fabric separating his tongue from your pleasure. He’s quick to push your thighs back down again, regaining his control of your trembling body.

He makes sure he’s watching you when he administers his first slow, tantalizing lick. His eyes are hooded and hungry, and his hunger translates well.

“Oh my god…” you whimper as he tastes you.

He picks up speed, his tongue slicing through your folds and spending lots of time at your quivering clit. He licks and sucks and slobbers like he hasn’t had a meal in years, which you know to not be true. Such an appetite.

“Jayce,” you whimper, pleading, begging, but for what you do not know.

He moans against your clit as you say his name, the precious sound of your debased voice striking a delicate chord within him. The vibration of his moan against your core makes your back arch, and his eyes dart back up to you, to watch you suffer under his pleasure.

“I think–I think I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly as your hands grab at the sheets above your head. You look so pretty, stretched out and suspended like that, your arms hanging above your head and your legs thrown out on either side of Jayce’s blur of dark hair and sharp features.

“Let it out, sweetheart,” Jayce muffles against you, his assault on your quivering clit not letting up one bit. “Let me hear it.”

You whine and squeal and thrash against his face, his hands squeezing hard to keep your thighs down so he can continue his job. You reach for his hair, just to have something solid to grab onto in your ecstasy, and he moans at the rough tug, the vibrations topping off your climax as your arched back grounds itself against your sheets again, descending alongside you.

He’s still hungry, and he hardly allows you any time to recover from your first orgasm, something you didn’t experience very often, especially not from the mouth of a man. Already, he’s climbing atop you, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to reveal his long, fully hardened cock. You reach out with unsteady fingers to unbutton his fancy dress shirt, admiring the way it’s already gathered wrinkles from his rowdy behavior between your legs.

Now you’re equally dishevelled. Your lip gloss has been rubbed off by your hungry bites at your lip and his mouth shines with your arousal and his own spit. Your dress is polled up over your hips and his own shirt barely clings to his arms in its unbuttoned state. Your hair pools out beneath you and his still bears the marks of your tugging.

It’s heaven for Jayce to see you like this. He’s spent weeks admiring the prim and proper put together little rich girl across the lecture hall, imagining what she would look like fucked out beneath him, screaming his name and abandoning all manners. He wants to ruin you, and he will.

His lips crash against yours, your arousal and his spit providing you with new lip gloss. His tongue betrays his hunger, crashing against yours, pushing it aside as he explores each corner of your little mouth. All the while, his hands are creeping up your soft stomach and resting on your breasts beneath his heavy, muscled torso.

“Jayce, I want you…I want you inside me,” you mutter, gaining some boldness at the sight of his craving.

He doesn’t even have the strength to muster a reply. He intends on saving all of his energy for destroying your cute little cunt. He grabs his cock, pumping it a few times to spill out the precum resting on his tip. He aligns it with your tight entrance and spreads your arousal over it to provide aid in jamming it into you.

“Fuck!” You shout into his broad shoulder. “Oh fuck!”

He didn’t expect such naughty words to rip from your innocent little throat, but he delights in your reaction to him stretching you.

He rocks his hips in and out of you, slowly at first, but even he can’t hold himself back just for the sake of torturing you. He ruts into you, pathetic, needy. His body presses down onto you, your chest smushed against his as he leans on his forearm beside your head. He groans out at each desperate thrust into your tight cunt.

You’re no better. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, pulling him ever closer and deeper into you. Each kiss of his tip to your cervix elicits a loud whine from you, echoing through your room. Your ornate decorations and pristine shelves now act as a shallow veneer. You’re not so clean anymore. Not so innocent.

“Oh Jayce,” you moan breathily. “Just like that! Oh fuck!”

You’re a mess beneath him, muttering slutty little words that rise and fall in volume as his thrusts punctuate them. Jayce is so lost in pleasure that it takes him a minute to realize that your volume has become an issue.

He brings a hand over your mouth, the other arm still acting as support as he rests on his forearm. You taste the salt of his skin on his palm as he presses it to your soft lips.

“You make such pretty noises for me,” Jayce says softly, a groan interrupting his syllables every so often. “And you sound so good but you gotta be quiet, baby.”

Despite his words, his thrusts don’t soften and his grip on your mouth remains. Your moans continue, quietly, muffled against his strong hand. To prevent himself from moaning too loud, he bites down on your shoulder. Hard. It’s enough to send you over the edge, the pain rippling through your skin and down to your core.

You can tell he’s close too, by the way his bite hardens and his hips jut mercilessly into you. Your legs begin to tremble and you tilt your head back, your back arching off of the bed to press even closer against his chest.

He replaces his hand with his mouth, which does an equally good job of shutting you up. With a final rut of his hips into your cunt, he stifles a groan against your lips and you feel yourself filling with his seed. Your muscles relax, your toes uncurling and your chest resuming its breathing.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his head leading the fall onto the bed beside you. His hand wraps around your waist and he administers a final kiss to your forehead. “That was…”

“Just how you imagined it?”

“Better.”

#arcane smut #fem reader #jayce talis #jayce x reader #smut #arcane #noooo jayce slander. i stand with my cancelled wife!!!

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7seas-of-ryy · 1 day ago

Text

Crestfallen - Part 1

Author’s Note: I'm on a mini break from work for a few days and I was in the mood to write! I will try to get the next part out quick but I'm not sure when it will be. I hope you enjoy!!

Overall Summary: Although you were born in the Day Court, you've been living in the Night Court for a century. You're close with the inner circle but what will happen when a new healer is brought into the picture?

Part 1 Summary: Exhausted from your first solo mission, you just want to rest but Rhys has other plans. What better way to meet the new healer than to get a check up from her?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of injuries

Your body was laced with exhaustion and all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. You just spent a few weeks away on a tiring mission but Rhys always made you check in with him when you got back first.

So, you dragged your body up to his office and slumped down in a chair.

"You look like hell." Rhys deadpanned.

"Gee, thanks!" You retorted sarcastically.

You laid your head back against the chair hoping to relax a bit.

"I was going to go over the mission with you right now but by the looks of it, you need to be checked out by a healer." He gave you a worried look.

"I don't need-" You started but your High Lord and friend immediately cut you off.

"I don't want to hear it. You were only just our researcher, barely started training a couple months ago. This was your first solo mission. I'm sending you to the healer." His tone left no room for argument.

"Fine, I'll go see Madja." You spoke.

"Actually I forgot to tell you. Madja has been training a new healer, she started the day you left actually. You're going to love her, she's really good." Rhys gushed, "She works out of a shop in town, I'll send you the address."

You nodded your head and stood up. Not happy you had to travel to yet another place that wasn't your bed. Normally you could use your powers to take you places but lately it seemed harder and harder. Assuming it was from your exhaustion, you brushed it off.

You were born in the Day Court and quickly found your way to Velaris when you became an adult. You always felt like you didn't belong anywhere until Rhys offered you a spot in his court.

Your powers were very similar to Azriel's powers. Only instead of shadows swirling around you, you had beams of light. No one had ever trained you properly so you weren't the most comfortable being out in the field until a couple of months ago when Cassian and Azriel had started working with you.

They both felt confident enough for you to take on a solo mission, knowing it should be an easy job and that's how you ended up here, limping through town to get to a healer.

Once you found the shop, you walked in and saw Madja with a woman about your age.

"Ah dear Y/N! You are back! I would like you to meet Clara, she is a new healer in Velaris. I have to head out right now so she will be taking care of you." She spoke warmly, "And Clara, let me know your assessment of her when you are done."

She was gone within seconds after speaking. You gave Clara a small smile.

"You're Y/N?" She questioned.

"Yes, It's nice to meet you!" You told her, reaching out your hand to shake hers.

"Yeah." She said, not even looking over at you.

Assuming she was busy with whatever she was doing, you didn't think too much of it. You let your hand fall down and quickly took a seat.

"So what's wrong?" She deadpanned finally looking over at you.

"I just got back from a mission and Rhys wanted me to have a full check up. I know for sure I have a fairly long cut on my back but besides that I think I'm probably just sore." You let her know everything that was going on with you hoping she could help with your cut and get you out of here.

Without speaking, she got up and walked over to you. She started to pull your shirt up without asking and looked at the cut for about 10 seconds.

"It should heal on its own, you don't need anything from me." She stated and left the room.

You looked around the area a few times to see if anyone else was there. Maybe Cassian was pulling a prank on you, but you didn't see anyone. Confused, you stood up and called out to Clara.

"Am I good to go?" You asked with a slightly raised voice.

"Yep." She clipped out.

You were beyond confused by that entire interaction but you felt even more weak than when you were in Rhys' office. So you left to get home, bathe, and sleep.

Once you were inside your small cottage, you didn't even have any energy to get clean. You fell down on your couch and let the sleep overtake you.

---------

The knocking was getting louder by the second. It was so loud, you could practically feel the pounding in your head.

"Y/N wake up!" You heard a female voice call out.

Rolling off the couch, you slowly got up and opened the door. Mor stood on the other side with a worried look on her face. Her eyes trailed down your form and the look turned from worry to disgust.

Following her eyes, you looked down at yourself. You were still wearing your torn and dirty clothes from your mission and there was an odd odor coming from you.

"Sorry, I must've been so tired when I got home yesterday I just fell asleep without bathing." You gave Mor a sheepish look.

"Yesterday? Babe you got back from your mission two days ago!" The worry evident in her tone.

"I've been sleeping for two days?!" You shrieked.

How could that be possible?? The mission wore you out but nothing has ever made you that tired before.

"You need to see Clara. Something is definitely wrong." Mor told you.

"No, I'm ok. I'll wait until Madja is back and she can look me over then." You told her, hoping she would leave it alone.

"What? Why wouldn't you just go see Clara right now?" She questioned you.

Torn between telling her the truth or just playing it off, you decided the truth would be best.

"I saw her yesterday and she told me I was fine. Actually, she kind of brushed me off. She was very rude if I'm being totally honest." You confided in your friend.

Mor laughed right in your face, slowly stopping when she saw you weren't laughing with her.

"Wait, you're not joking? Clara is the sweetest fae I've ever met." She spoke shocked.

"Well she must've been upset yesterday or something because she was not sweet to me." You stood your ground but didn't want to keep talking bad behind her back.

"C'mon, I'll go with you. If she's rude again, I'll say something." Your friend said and held her hand out to you.

Relieved, you grabbed her hand as well. The two of you head off to the shop. You still felt drained so it took a little longer than usual. Mor kept sending worried glances at you the entire time.

The two of you entered the shop and Clara ran over to Mor, wrapping her up in a hug. She gave you a bright smile next, greeting you.

"Sorry, I wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable with hugs seeing as we just met a few days ago! How are you??" Clara spoke as if she was so excited to see you again.

Assuming that she was just having a rough night when you saw her last, you gave her the benefit of the doubt.

"Hello, well I'm still feeling pretty weak-" You started.

"She's been sleeping since you saw her two days ago." Mor finished for you.

"What?? Oh my, I better get you checked out." Clara spoke urgently, "Mor you can wait outside my shop."

Mor gave you a look and you gave her a small nod in return as if to say she was ok to leave. Once the door shut behind her, Clara started to look over some charts.

"So, you've really been sleeping for two days?" She deadpanned, her entire tone shifting once it was only you.

"Um...yes. Mor just woke me up." You stammered, shocked at the sudden change.

"Are you always so lazy?" She asked while writing something in her chart.

Your eyes went wide at her question.

"What?" You asked.

"I mean, I was told you are close to Azriel. Is that correct?" She questioned then continued without waiting for your response, "I just think it reflects poorly on the spymaster if someone so close to him is so lazy... and a slob."

She finished her sentence looking you up and down. To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

"Excuse me? I don't know if I did something to offend you but it is not ok for you to speak to me like that." You stood up as you spoke, ready to leave and never see her again.

The only problem was you must have stood up too fast because you were starting to feel dizzy. Then all at once you fell to the ground with a thud, and passed out on the floor.

#acotar #acotar imagine #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel angst #mor acotar #rhys acotar

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formulaisa · 2 days ago

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So I saw you were taking requests for Franco and i thought I would share my idea!

How about Mexican reader where she is like a fan of formula 1 and goes to one of the gp (any of them). And like she is there minding her business in the paddock (like asking drivers for photos and autographs) and Franco sees her and is like 😍😍😍 immediately and when reader goes to ask for a photo he starts like actually interacting with her (more than the polite thank you for being a fan talk) and idk you can take over from there.

Don’t feel pressured to write this! I just think is a cute idea and definitely not self protecting

The Signature | Franco Colapinto

Summary: Growing up watching Formula 1 with your dad made you dream of attending a Grand Prix, but you never imagined your first paddock experience would lead to catching a certain Argentinian rookie's attention.

Warnings: some spanish (with translations)

Author's note: Sorry for the inactivity! I've been busy with my family for the holidays. If you have any feedback or suggestions, I'd really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy! <3

F1 Masterlist / homepage / main masterlist

You had always dreamed of attending a Grand Prix. Ever since your dad introduced you to Formula 1 at a young age, you were hooked. The roar of the engines, the speed, the energy of the crowd—it all fascinated you. But the problem was, you lived far away from any Grand Prix, and the costs for tickets, travel, and hotels made this dream seem impossible.

That all changed when you went to college in the US. You were awarded a generous scholarship to a school in Texas, conveniently close to the US Grand Prix. Juggling a waitressing job and school, you worked hard and finally saved enough money to attend a race. To top it off, you earned enough to afford a paddock pass. There was only one thing that could make this experience even better: having your dad with you. Though he couldn't be there, you had a plan to make it up to him. You'd bought him a blank hat and set out to get as many driver autographs as possible for him.

It was a scorching Saturday in Austin. Qualifying was starting in just a few hours, so you arrived early, hoping to catch some drivers for autographs and photos. The paddock was already buzzing with activity—mechanics wheeling tires, engineers huddled over laptops, and the occasional flash of a driver's race suit disappearing into a garage.

By now, you'd been surprisingly lucky. You'd gotten photos and signatures from three drivers: Carlos, Yuki, and Nico. Their signatures decorated the pristine white hat, each one making you imagine your dad's face lighting up when he saw it. But you wouldn't be truly satisfied until you got signatures from your two favorites: Checo and Lewis.

The Texas heat was beginning to wear you down. Your outfit, a cute dress and cowboy boots, looked stylish but weren't exactly built for the sweltering weather. Sweat beaded at your temples, and you could feel your hair starting to stick to the back of your neck. You stopped by a kiosk to grab a water bottle, then took a quieter shortcut back to the main paddock area, hoping to bump into a driver.

Just as you rounded the corner, you spotted him. It was hard not to. Franco Colapinto was strutting through the paddock in his navy blue Williams polo, his trademark smirk on full display. The young Argentinian driver had been making waves in his rookie season, his natural talent and charismatic personality quickly making him a fan favorite. Now was your chance.

Suddenly, a small lump filled your throat. It was a strange sensation, one you hadn't felt with any of the other drivers today. Your hands felt clammy, and your heart began to race. You found yourself nervous in a way that had nothing to do with meeting a Formula 1 driver and everything to do with meeting him.

"Umm, hi, Franco?" you asked, your voice hesitant. "Could I get a picture?"

He paused and turned around, pulling an AirPod from his ear. His dark eyes met yours, and his smirk softened into a genuine smile that made your stomach do a little flip. "Yeah, of course," he said, his Argentine accent adding a musical quality to his words.

You pulled out your phone and went to take a selfie. As you did, you noticed Franco adjusting his hair in the camera, running his fingers through the dark waves with practiced ease.

"Sorry, it's just so hot here," he explained quickly, before leaning in and flashing a smile for the photo. As you snapped the picture, you caught him glancing down at you, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. The subtle cologne he wore mixed with the mechanical scents of the paddock, creating an oddly intoxicating combination.

"I know. I feel like I'm melting," you said, tucking your phone back into your purse. A bead of sweat rolled down your temple as if to emphasize your point.

Franco hesitated for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes sparkled with interest as he asked, "¿Hablas español?" [Do you speak Spanish?]

"Sí, sí," you replied with a small smile, pleasantly surprised by the question. [Yes, yes.]

"¿De dónde eres?" he asked, his signature smirk returning. [Where are you from?]

"México," you said, "pero voy a la universidad aquí." Your voice grew more confident as you spoke in Spanish, and you noticed how Franco's posture relaxed, his shoulders dropping slightly as he leaned in to hear you better. [Mexico, but I go to college here.]

“I could tell from your accent,” He nodded, clearly interested, still not in a rush to leave. The bustling paddock seemed to fade into the background as he focused his attention entirely on you. He glanced around the paddock, then asked, "Are you here by yourself?"

You sighed lightly and nodded. "Yeah, it's just me." The admission made you feel suddenly vulnerable, but there was something comforting about the way Franco listened, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Paddock pass all for yourself, huh?" His voice carried no judgment, just genuine curiosity.

"I saved up all my tips from work," you said, absently playing with the lanyard around your neck. "I originally wanted to surprise my dad with tickets for his birthday, but I couldn't afford a flight and hotel from Mexico, so it didn't work out."

He looked at you with understanding, his expression softening. "Where do you work?" he asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.

You shrugged slightly, a little embarrassed. "Just some restaurant... I'm a waitress." The words felt small compared to his profession, but his interested expression never wavered.

"What's it called?" he asked, taking a small step closer.

"Trust me. You wouldn't want to go there," you replied with a self-deprecating laugh, knowing Franco wouldn't be interested in the casual, country bar you worked at.

"Still, I’m curious," he asked, the same flirtatious tone in his voice. “Besides, I’m more interested in the service.”

"It's called Buck Wild," you said with a small laugh, watching his expression for any sign of judgment. “It’s a very Texan country bar.”

"I think I'd learn to like it," he teased with a smirk that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, you noticed. “When do you work there?”

"Tuesdays and Fridays," you answered, still smiling, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his continued interest.

He nodded, clearly thinking. "I leave on Thursday..." he muttered to himself, his voice soft and thoughtful as he created a mental plan. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with possibility.

Your heart began to race, and a warm blush crept up your neck. The way he was looking at you, the casual tone of his voice, the fact that he was even asking about your work schedule—it all pointed to something more than just a typical chat with a fan. You found yourself hyper-aware of every detail: the way his polo shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, how he kept shifting slightly closer to you, the warmth in his dark eyes.

Then, reality crashed back in as you remembered why you had actually approached him. The hat for your dad was still tucked away in your bag.

"I-I know you probably have to go soon, but before you leave, could you sign this for me?" you asked, pulling the hat out of your bag. Your fingers trembled slightly as you handed it to him.

He smiled warmly and took the sharpie and hat from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. "Wow, you've got quite a few signatures already, huh?" He examined the other drivers' signatures with interest.

Franco signed the hat, moving slowly, almost like he was savoring the moment, stretching out the conversation. His signature was deliberate and careful, unlike the rushed autographs you'd seen him give to other fans earlier.

You smiled and explained, "I'm trying to get Lewis and Checo too. They're my dad's favorite drivers." Your voice softened when you mentioned your father, and Franco seemed to notice.

"Ah, Good taste," he said, nodding. Then, his expression shifted slightly. He glanced at the hat, pausing. A look of realization and minor panic appears on his face.

“Wait,” he gestures to the hat “This isn’t for you?”

“No, it’s a gift for my dad,” you explain “Why?”

You look down at the hat in his hands and see his scrawled out signature. Underneath you see something else he had started to write. “+54 2322…”

Your eyes widened as you realized what he'd done. "Joder," he muttered under his breath, quickly scribbling over the numbers, a faint blush creeping up his neck. Despite his embarrassment, you noticed he didn't step away.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, a warm smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. The moment felt surreal—here was Franco Colapinto, Formula 1 driver, getting flustered while trying to give you his phone number on what he thought was your hat.

"I can just give you mine," you said shyly, still flustered but charmed by his awkward attempt.

Franco pulled out his phone, opened a new contact, and handed it to you. His phone was warm from being in his pocket, and you noticed his lock screen was a picture of his dog. Just as you were typing in your name and number, his phone buzzed with a message: 'Where are you, mate? Meeting started ten minutes ago.'

Franco's eyes widened with panic, and you could tell he was starting to realize just how much time he'd spent talking to you instead of attending his meeting. The easy conversation had made you both lose track of time completely. You handed him back his phone, but before you could say anything, he quickly added, "Let me give you my number too."

You began fumbling through your purse for your phone, your fingers clumsy with nervous energy, but before you could find it, you were interrupted by a loud voice from the Williams garage.

"Franco! Stop flirting and get over here. You're late, and James is pissed!" the mechanic yelled, his voice cutting through the paddock's ambient noise.

Franco looked over, frustration and guilt crossing his face in quick succession. "Sorry," he muttered to you, grabbing the sharpie back from your hand and hastily scribbling his number on your arm. His touch was gentle despite his hurry, and you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

Before you could even react, he gently handed you back the sharpie. "I'll see you around..." he said with a wink and a grin, before turning and jogging off toward the Williams garage. You watched him go, admiring how he somehow managed to make even a rushed exit look graceful.

You stood there for a moment, your heart racing, the cool sharpie mark on your arm tingling where his fingers had just been. The numbers were slightly smudged but still legible, and you couldn't help but trace them with your finger. You smiled to yourself, looking forward to the next time you'd see him and happy with the most special signature you’d gotten that day.

✩₊˚.⋆ all work belongs to formulaisa. please don’t modify, translate, or share my writing, and don’t feed it to AI.

#f1 x reader #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto #franco colapinto fluff #formula one x you #franco colapinto imagine #isa's fics

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stonerfromlesbos · 2 days ago

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can you please write a crazy fanfic where billie is like a fuckboy and she meets reader at a house party in LA and wants her so bad but reader plays hard to get and they end up having sex at hers and billies friend is in the room but billie doesnt gaf ? <3

you were a dream | b.e

warnings: !fuckboy billie, !inaccessible reader, fingering, oral, bathroom sex and i think thats it

you were known for being inaccessible, and mostly for being unforgettable for the few who managed to taste you. well, everyone in LA knew you, everyone wanted a bite of you, but you were really hard to get. it was your lifestyle, you didn´t like relationships, and you felt really comfortable all by yourself. in result of that, your bodycount was low as hell, but fuck, anyone who could touch even a single inch of your body, got fucking addicted to it.

and you loved it, walking around on the slutiest pieces of clothing, knowing that everyone had their eyes glued to you. and most of them, will only be able to watch you, nothing more. today was one of those nights, your roommate had invited you for a party she was going. you were getting ready, it was almost 12am, and you hadn´t even did your makeup yet.

"seriously? we're so fuckin' late, hurry the fuck up girl." your roommate, olivia, were now yelling for you to get ready faster. you just rolled your eyes, putting on some concealer and doing a pretty sharp wing with your eyeliner... finishing it with some mascara and a dark red lipgloss. you came out the bathroom with your black boots, a black mini skirt and a lacy dark red top. "lets go?" you said grabbing your purse and heading out the dorm door.

as you two got there, olivia quickly vanished, she was probably talking to that one guy you couldn´t even remember the name. you entered the house party, it as so fucking chaotic. a bunch of celebrities doing drugs, kissing, almost fucking in the living room. it was honestly not your vibe, so you just headed to the kitchen, to grab yourself a drink. it was all normal to you, all the stares. but one of them felt different, it felt sharper than the others. you turned youself a little to stare back at the blue eyed girl that was watching you across the room, leaning on a counter. you quickly recognized her, it was billie and her fucking mesmerizing eyes.

she was pretty known too, besides being a fuckin' popstar, but not for the same reason as you were. she was the literal definition of a 'fuckboy'. and you knew, she was already interested in you for a while. billie had sent a message to you, replying to one of your instagram stories, you left it on seen, enjoying that she got every girl she wanted, but you ill not be one of them. you refused to be one of the girls who would constantly crawl on her sheets, begging for attention, begging to be fucked and forgotten. you were not the kind to be ghosted after, you were the type to ghost. for you, it was funny, but for her? she treated it like a challenge, but she wasn´t aware that you weren't the type to lose too.

"pretty girl, can i prepare a drink for you?" some random guy showed up, asking to mix your drink, you found it all weird. "no, thanks." you said continuing to mix your own drink, you didn´t trust any men near your cup, it was just self protection. as he got headed out of the kitchen, you took a sip of it, looking around until your eyes meeted billie´s, her gaze didn´t go away from you even for a second. you stared back, this time with the same intensity as her. quickly she started to make her way towards you, with her eyes looking at you up and down shamelessly.

"hey." she said leaning in the same counter as you now. "hi." you answered, trying to hold back a smirk. her eyes were staring at you, almost pulling your gaze into them. her hand tried to make her way to your waist, but you quickly refused it. "not yet." you said smirking, turning your back to her as you made your way towards the dancing floor. your moviments were almost hypnotics, your hips moved like magic, didn't exist even a single soul in that room who wasn´t looking at you. soon enough you felt her cent, that masculine smell. both of her hands were on your hips now, she placed them carefully, almost asking permission to. her mouth was almost in your ear, trying to make you hear her in this loud room.

"you're so fucking hot." billie says as her mouth starts to go down to your neck, kissing it gently. "i know." you replied, pushing yourself against her. you didn´t stop dancing, you were just dancing on her now, clearly rubbing your ass on her crotch. suddenly you started feeling the wetness on her pants as you moved yourself against her. her breath getting heavier as she took your arm, walking you towards the bathroom. soon as you two get inside, she locks the door behind her. walking towards you, placing her hands on your waist. "wanna fuck you s'bad mama." she says as your hand go down to the crotch of her pants, you started to bite your lip, rubbing your hand on her pussy over the rough material of her pants.

"beg me to let you do it." you said, staring deeply at her eyes. your hands moviments even speed, her breath gettin heavier everytime.

"can't you tell im desperate? can't you tell im cheap?"

"you don´t gotta love me, we don't have to speak."

"i'll see you in the morning, if you gotta leave."

"fuck, i'll see you when i see you, like you were a dream-"

you could see how desperate she was, so you interrupted her pulling her into a kiss. your hands now were on billies hair, her hands going to your hips, lifting you up and placing you on the sink. her kisses started going down. "fuck i dreamed so much about how you taste, angel." her hands started to pull your top down, exposing your breasts. she almost looked starved, sucking on your nipple like a baby. "mm, fuck bills." you moaned, feeling her hand go underneath your underwear, playing with your needy cunt. her kisses started going down your stomach, as she pulled your skirt down. she was now kneeing in front of your spread legs.

"so fuckin' pretty." she says staring at your clothed cunt, it was fucking dripping through your black lacy underwear. after that she looked up, staring at you with those fucking eyes. "please." you almost whined bringing your hands to her hair, almost pushing her face into your throbbing pussy. "don't need to ask me twice." she says pulling your panties to the side and sliding her tongue on your folds. taking her time to suck on your clit. as she sucked, billie started to take off her rings, placing them on the ground. quickly, her fingers found their way into you. she stretched your insides with her two fingers entering you with no warning.

"taste s'fuckin' good mamas, s'good." she says moving away her face a little, as her fingers speed up. you were moaning loudly at this point, her fingers curling inside of you was enough to make you crazy. "mhmm, bills, s'fucking good. please don't stop, im close." you said between moans, one of her hands grabbing your inner thigh tightly as your legs start trying to close. she fucked you, sucking your clit and staring at you with those goddamn eyes. it just made you wanna cum even more, the way she ate you. it looked like she was starving her whole life, and your pussy were the most delicious meal of all time.

"cum on my fingers baby, go ahead doll." billie says, with her fingers pace speeding even more. you reached it, your legs shaking as she pulled her fingers out of you. getting up to kiss you. "wanna taste yourself on my tongue, huh?" you didn't reply, just smirked pulling her closer, suddenly, she brought her hand to your neck. "answer me, slut." she says in a low and raspy voice, now she was the dominant one. you smirked, now, she had all the confirmation that you were liking it. "yes, i want to taste myself on you." you replied looking at her eyes with a smirk. her waist was between your legs, her arms holding your waist as she pulled you even closer. the kiss was needy, but fast.

"can't fuck you properly in this tiny ass bathroom, wanna come to my place?"

and right in that moment you knew that this night would be so fucking long.

tags: @chrissv4mp @karaeilishh @hkkuugu @bilsdillldough @n0vabug @certifiedwomenlover @dollyvuu @cupidsvzq @dyinbymistake @hailwiggly

#˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ — ella ! ݁₊#billie eilish #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish oneshot #ella moots #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish concert #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fanart #wlw #billie eilish hmhas #hmhas #hmhas tour #hmhas billie eilish #hit me hard and soft

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limethefirst · 1 day ago

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hwellooooo i love your movie shadow fics!! Would it be alright if i made a request i finally got to see sonic movie three today as my christmas present and im brain rotted from it. Could we have a movie shadow x a reader who maybe prehaps shadow meet when he woke up at gun? Maybe prehaps he sees that the reader is being mistreated and hiut by gun after they have been looking after shadow in statis for awhile because they do see the good in him and tried to defend gim before he woke up to let him be left alone. Then when shadow sees it something snaps in him and he saves them. Bringing them with him to get revenge on gun, wanting for protect them for her act of kindness towards him seeing a glipse of maria in her.

Protector

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of being hurt/kinda bullied by everyone at work

summary: after waking up from statis Shadow asks you to come with him, wanting to protect you after you protected him

a/n: thank you for the love! This request kinda stumped me so sorry for taking a bit and if it isn’t the best, I was thinking of ways to incorporate the reader into the story but for it to also make sense

You were a worker at GUN, a lower level worker, at least that’s what your co-workers liked to joke about. A laughing stock, the work punchline. Basically deemed as unimportant and unnecessary but the reason for this wasn’t because you sucked at your job or you were a loser, no, it’s because your task was looked down upon.

When you were hired, the one thing you were told to do was watch over and take care of Project Shadow; you would clean the room he was stored in, kept the glass from getting cloudy and would just watch over him. A little protector, the others called you.

Today was no different from the day before, or the day before that or even the month before. It was routine. You quietly made your way to Shadows containment unit. The guards watched you enter, only sparing you a quick glance before going back to whatever they were talking about.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the glass, checking for any cracks or signs for deterioration, “This sucks,” you quietly exclaimed.

Not because you hated looking after Shadow, no that was something you actually enjoyed, you’d some blabber about your day, finding comfort in the fact he couldn’t actually hear you; though sometimes you wish he could.

No, what sucked was the fact everyday at work was another day of being belittled and looked down upon. If it weren’t for the fact you’d grown somewhat attached to the little hedgehog, as well as a really good pay, you probably would’ve left this job by now.

Slowly you continued to check the glass, making sure it was in perfect condition. As you did a sudden movement had caught your eye, it was fast and quick; like a flicker of light.

You weren’t able to quite catch what is was though because it was gone almost as fast as it was there, so you tried to leave it alone, going back to cleaning and checking the containment unit.

Suddenly the guards shouted your name, which was strange as they didn’t really talk to you much, thinking you were weird for protecting a hedgehog in Statis. You turned over for them and saw you motioning to move away from Shadow.

You only made a few advances towards them before a bunch of soldiers stormed the room, “What are you guys doing?!” You angrily questioned the masked men.

None of them responded, their gazes fixed on the hedgehog in front of you. The room became eerily still, the only thing you could hear was the faint beep of the machine wired to enhance and check Shadows heart beat.

It was a fast paced beep, it was getting worse and worse, you started to grow worried, trying to make your way to the machine so you could check it but one of the soldiers held you back. Not gently, quite forcefully, sparing no expense when it came to Project Shadow.

Then it stilled. The long beep indicating it was over, your eyes widened, a mix of shock and confusion over coming you. The soldier that was holding you back let you go, a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

Crack.

The glass was shattered. Shadow had finally woken up, and his demeanor only showed one thing. That he wanted revenge.

You were quickly pushed onto the cold floor, hitting your arm harshly, a small cut formed as blood was seeping from the wound. You let out a hiss of pain that didn’t seem to go unnoticed by the hedgehog.

He didn’t have a chance to react though as the men started to shoot at him, not caring that you were in the room. You tried to duck and ran into the corner hoping that no stray bullets, rubber or not, wouldn’t come your way.

Shadow made quick work of the soldiers, effortlessly taking them down without breaking a sweat. Then he made it to you, his gaze was sharp, but he didn’t attack you. He just watched you, his eyes looking at the cut you had on your arm, the blood dripping onto the floor. He looked back at the man who pushed you down.

His expression was unreadable. You both looked at each other, for some reason you weren’t scared, you should’ve been considering you just saw him take down over 8 armed men but if Shadow was going to hurt you he definitely would’ve already.

“Come.” He told you, turning his back to you as he punched the wall in front of him down and looked back at you before he continued to walk to the edge of the cliff.

Shadow wasn’t entirely sure why he told you to come with him. There wasn’t a set moment he knew you would accompany him, all he knew was that you weren’t like the other workers, who saw him as a threat and tried to take him down. You defended him, and for this kindness he would repay you. By becoming your protector, like you had been protecting him before.

#sonic movie 3 #sonic 3 x reader #sonic 3 spoilers #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow #x reader

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 day ago

Text

Happily Ever After

Summary: After losing the reader, Dean’s moved on with his life and made a home for himself with his new family so he’s more than surprised when he finds her in his house one night...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, mention of death

A/N: Enjoy!

____

“Hey,” you said, Dean freezing from where he stood in the kitchen. He turned around slowly, a formula bottle in one hand, a rag over his shoulder. “Been a hot minute. You uh, you look good. I like the beard.”

“Thanks. You’re dead,” he said. He dropped the bottle on the counter, grabbing a knife from the butcher block. You held up your hands, Dean over and on top of you, pushing you back against the wall. “Do not move.”

He sliced your arm and pulled you over to a cabinet, taking out a spray bottle and dousing your arm. He stared at you when nothing happened and suddenly he was picking you up into a squeezing hug. You laughed and he set you down, giving you a kiss.

“Daddy, Emily is crying,” said a little girl around four years old as she entered the kitchen. You both turned, Dean giving her a smile.

“Okay, Piper,” said Dean. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Is that Y/N?�� she asked as she looked at you. “I thought Daddy said you died.”

“Oh, no. You must have been confused,” said Dean, looking over to you when you heard a cry upstairs. “Y/N was away working was all. I’ll be right back.”

“So, you’re Piper?” you asked, the girl nodding and fixing her beer under her arm. “It’s pretty late. You want to head to bed?”

“You should hug daddy. He missed you,” she said.

“As soon as you’re in bed and Emily is taken care of, that is exactly what I’m gonna do,” you said.

“Okay. You carry me up?” she asked. You smiled and bent down, settling her on your hip. She put her head on your shoulder and was out like a light. You walked up the stairs, Dean rocking a baby in his arms in the hallway. He nodded towards a room and you put Piper to bed in it, Dean bouncing the baby gently back into the room across the hall.

“She’s adorable,” you whispered.

“Want to hold her?” asked Dean, already putting her in your arms. She cooed and popped open and eye at you, quickly lolling her head back and snoring quietly. “Oh she’s smitten with you.”

You stared and he showed you how to put her down without waking her, Dean guiding you back down the hall and into a master bedroom.

“You really did it, went through with the adoption,” you said.

“It was our plan. I really wanted to be alone and miserable you know. I stayed at the bunker for a while,” he said. “Sam and Eileen were great. I just...I wanted you back but I promised I wouldn’t do something stupid so I didn’t. So I got angry and upset for a while. Drove around, wanted to get drunk, wanted to forget. Couldn’t do it though. I just kept hearing, you’re not supposed to drink when you’re upset. Your voice was in my head. Eventually, the pain faded some and I remember how we talked about a life after hunting. I went in looking for a baby when I found the girls.”

“Why’d you pick them?” you asked, sitting down on the bed.

“Parents died in a fire. Piper ran in and yelled at me that I couldn’t take her sister away from her. I could relate,” he chuckled. You patted the bed and he sat beside you, turning his head. “How are you here?”

“I woke up in a box and fell down to the floor. I didn’t take you for the fancy mausoleum type,” you said.

“I wanted someplace I could go talk to you,” he said. “Did you ever...hear anything when I was there?”

“I think so. It feels like a memory I can’t grab though. It’s like, I died at that cemetery and then I woke up. Everything’s okay down here, right?”

“As far as I know,” he said. “You just woke up out of the blue?”

“Yeah. I thought maybe you did something. I went to the bunker and then I came straight here,” you said.

“Sweetheart, I wanted to, I did. But I didn’t do this,” he said.

“I did,” said a voice out of the blue. You jumped and saw Adam, narrowing your eyes. “Michael at the moment.”

“You mean the dick,” you said.

“Once again, that was the other Michael that was a dick to you,” he sighed.

“You’re still a dick,” you mumbled.

“This dick just brought you back to life so you could say thanks,” he said.

“Why would you do that?” asked Dean.

“Because I’m a sweetheart underneath it all,” said Michael. Dean rolled his eyes and Michael shrugged. “Your kids are gonna be important. They need a mother.”

“I thought the world was safe,” you said.

“It is. Your daughters are going to be involved in something...global, is all. It’s important that they have two parents as the grow. They’ll be important to society.”

“If you hurt my kids, I swear-” said Dean, Michael holding up a hand.

“You gotta learn to look on the bright side, buddy. Not everything is bad,” said Michael. “If you want to handle it on your own, I can take her back.”

“No!” you both said, Michael nodding.

“That’s what I thought. Nothing nefarious so scooch along,” said Michael before he disappeared.

“What’s going to happen you think?” you asked.

“No idea,” said Dean. “It doesn’t sound like it’ll be bad. Maybe they’ll do something good?”

“I sure hope so,” you said. “Either way I’m glad I’m back.”

“Me too. Can I get you anything?” he asked, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Can I take a shower? I feel gross,” you said.

“Of course. Right in there,” he said, pointing at a door.

“Do you want to join me? Not like that, just…” you said. He stood and guided you into the bathroom, flicking on the light. “Dean Winchester. Who knew you had some interior designer in you.”

“I know you wanted a bathroom like this. Wait til you see the house in the day. It’s what we always talked about.”

“I can’t wait, Winchester.”

“Me either, Winchester.”

Twenty minutes later you were curled up in the bed wearing Dean’s shirt, Dean tucked in close. You smiled and shut your eyes, Dean grabbing on a little hard before letting out a quiet breath.

“Not going anywhere, Dean,” you said.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Dean.”

“Sure you still want me?”

“I love you, you idiot. Yeah, I still want you.”

“Good,” he chuckled. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“Love you too, De.”

_____

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn fanfiction #dean fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn dean #dean winchester x #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean fanfic #spn fanfic #dean winchester one shot #dean one shot #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x

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xuchiya · 3 days ago

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Hello there! First I wanted to say I love your writings:) I don't know if you accept requests or not and it's my first time doing this so I don't really know how to ask but if possible could you please write something about y/n being in a established relationship with Jongho and she can't resist plaýing with his squishy cheeks or giving him soft kisses all over his face and behind his ears whenever they're lying in bed or after showers when she's drying his hair. Pretty much just y/n having cuteness aggression for Jongho and him not complaining or blushing but never saying anything about it so she is suddenly hit with the fear that maybe he actually hates it but he's not saying anything to not break her heart. And Jongho comforting her about it. Love you💙

hi my loves! First, I want to apologise! I know you requested this one a few days ago. I am deeply sorry for the delay too. But thank you so much, my loves! I am grateful and don't worry, my inbox is always open for request. I hope you enjoy this story hehhe 💚🤍

"Soft cheeks, softer hearts" || choi jongho || one-shot

|genre: non!idol jongho. fluff. girlfriend! reader |mentions: fluff.

The soft hum of the evening filled your shared apartment, broken only by the occasional rustle of the towel in your hands as you dried Jongho’s hair. He sat cross-legged on the bed, his damp head nestled comfortably against your chest. The scent of his shampoo lingered in the air, mixing with the warm glow of the bedside lamp.

Jongho, ever composed, had his eyes closed, his features serene. His broad shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath, and the quiet intimacy of the moment made your chest feel full.

You smiled, unable to resist the urge bubbling within. Carefully, your fingers brushed over his flushed cheeks. The heat of his recent shower still clung to his skin, making him look boyishly soft. “Your cheeks are so cute,” you murmured, as if talking to yourself, but Jongho’s lips twitched faintly in response.

Cupping his face, you squished his cheeks gently. “You’re too squishy. How do you expect me to survive when you’re this cute?”

Jongho’s eyes opened just enough to glance at you, his gaze unbothered, almost amused. “You say that every time,” he replied, his voice low and slightly raspy.

“Well, it’s true every time.” You leaned forward, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. Then his nose. Then the curve of his jawline. Each kiss was soft, lingering, and filled with affection. You moved to the sensitive spot behind his ears, smiling at the faint twitch of his shoulders as you kissed him there too.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his tone somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. But he didn’t stop you. He never did.

You grinned, your heart swelling at how pliant he was in your hands. “Don’t ‘Y/N’ me. It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.”

He didn’t respond, simply closing his eyes again and letting you have your way.

But as your fingers lingered against his cheek, an uninvited thought crept in.

What if he only let you do this because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings? What if Jongho found your constant need to touch, kiss, and dote on him suffocating? He was quiet, reserved, and stoic—the complete opposite of your playful, affectionate self.

Your hands stilled, and the warmth in your chest was quickly replaced by a cold pang of doubt.

“Jongho…” you began, your voice softer now, hesitant.

“Hm?” His eyes flicked open, and he tilted his head to look at you.

“Do you… do you hate it when I do this?” Your voice wavered, and you hated how small you sounded. “Like, when I touch your face or kiss you all over. I know I do it a lot, and you never say anything, so I thought…”

His brow furrowed slightly, confusion knitting across his features. “Why would I hate it?”

“Because you never say anything,” you explained, biting your lip. “I don’t want to be annoying or make you uncomfortable. And I know you’re sweet enough to not tell me if it bothers you, but—”

“Y/N,” Jongho interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. He reached up, his hand curling gently around your wrist, pulling it away from where you’d been fidgeting with the towel. “Look at me.”

You met his gaze, and the sincerity in his dark eyes made your breath hitch.

“I don’t hate it,” he said, his voice steady and warm. “Not even a little.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” His lips quirked into a faint smile, the kind that made your heart skip. “I don’t say much because there’s nothing to say. I like it when you do this.”

Your chest tightened, overwhelmed by his simple but heartfelt words. “You like it?”

“I love it,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, as if the confession was just for you. “I love the way you show me how much you care. You’re not annoying, Y/N. You’re affectionate, and that’s how you love. And I love being loved by you.”

His words hit you like a warm tide, washing away every trace of doubt. “Jongho…”

“Don’t overthink this, okay?” He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “If anything ever makes me uncomfortable, I’ll tell you. But you don’t have to hold back. I like when you’re yourself with me.”

Your lips trembled as a relieved laugh bubbled out of you. “You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” He smiled wider now, his thumb brushing over your hand.

You leaned down, cupping his face with both hands again, and this time you kissed him deeply on the lips. He let out a soft hum, his hands finding your waist, grounding you in his quiet but unwavering presence.

When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but tease, “If my kisses are squishing your cheeks, you’ll have to tell me.”

Jongho’s laugh was deep and warm, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re lucky I’m addicted to you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your steady breaths and the quiet rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

And when Jongho finally laid back on the bed, pulling you down beside him, you resumed your ritual of peppering kisses along his jawline and behind his ears. This time, you did it with no hesitation, no doubt—just love.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

And so, you didn’t.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez atiny #atiny #atz #atz imagines #atz x reader #choi jongho #choi jongho x reader #choi jongho imagine #jongho fluff #ateez jongho #jongho #jongho x reader #jongho x y/n

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blue-lights-to-dreams · 1 day ago

Text

Golden Light (pt. 2) // H.S.

part 2 to Golden Light! please read that first if you haven't already!

synopsis: you and Harry go back to your apartment after your date, and learn a little more about each other in the process.

warnings: smut, kissing, fingering (f receiving), i think that's it?

wc: 3.6k

a/n: the (maybe) long-awaited sequel to Golden Light as so many of you requested! thank you all so much for all of the love on that work, i'm so happy you guys enjoyed it. let me know what you think of this and if you'd like to see a part 3! :)

----------

The crackle of the fireplace (and the wine you were drinking) was almost enough to soothe your nerves. Almost.

You and Harry were sprawled on your living room floor, backs against the couch, enjoying the heat radiating from the fire as Harry described what he had gotten his family for Christmas this year. It was only the beginning of December, but he had everyone’s gifts already. He was so prepared, and the gifts he picked were so thoughtful. Each came with a backstory of exactly why he chose it, usually after the person mentioned something in passing once or twice.

A vintage whale-shaped coffee mug for his sister, who’d talked about how much she enjoyed a documentary about them over brunch one day. A beautiful landscape by a local painter for his mother after she admired another of her works when they’d gone to the art museum. He’d even gotten a custom doll made for his goddaughter after she complained one day that none of the ones at the store looked like her.

You’d picked out a riesling from your small stash of wine when you two arrived at your flat, remembering that’s what Harry preferred. You’d quickly changed into soft shorts and a graphic t-shirt, needing out of your dress, before the two of you settled on the floor and fell back into comfortable chatter.

It was probably for the better that he was the one speaking at the moment, because you could feel your head get fuzzier with each sip from your glass. As much as you tried to stay focused, you couldn’t help but run your eyes up his frame. He’d draped his blazer over the back of one of your barstools as he’d come in, leaving him in just his slacks and half-unbuttoned dress shirt. He looked stunning.

Harry noticed the way you were looking at him but elected not to say anything as he continued his story. “I’m really hoping she’s going to like it. How about you? Anything special you’ve gotten for anyone?”

His question snapped you out of your mild stupor, and you racked your brain. “Not really – I’m not nearly as prepared as you are. I only need to get a couple of things, though. Just something for my mom and a few for my friends. Nothing major.”

“No siblings?” He asked.

“Nope. Well, I do have them, but they’re my step-siblings, and I don’t think I’ve seen them since I was like 14 or so. My dad kind of packed them up and ran for the hills with his new wife at that point.” Your statement was blunt, and you picked at the skin around your nails as you explained. It wasn’t anything you had a hard time discussing anymore, given it had been upwards of 10 years.

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry looked like he didn’t know what to say. You probably should have said that differently, you thought, not wanting to overshare and make him uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, Harry. It was a long time ago, and probably for the better. My mom and I have only gotten closer since then, and I wouldn’t change it.” He nodded in understanding with a small smile but didn’t respond, letting his gaze drift to the artwork hung over the mantle of the fireplace.

A hush fell between the two of you, the noise of the fire and your creaky New York City radiator the only things audible. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just calm and peaceful. You stood to open the window – the heat was getting to be too much. It was nearing midnight at this point, so there wasn’t much commotion on your street, but the sound of cars driving by now and then was familiar and soothing.

You returned to your seat, slightly closer to Harry than you had been previously. He seemed deep in thought, arm draped lazily over the seat of the couch behind him. His eyes hadn’t left the window after they followed your movement there.

“Whatcha thinking about?” You questioned softly, turning to face him and pulling your knees to your chest, leaning to rest your shoulder against the cushions. You didn’t mean to pry, but you wanted to know what was going on inside that pretty head of his.

“Honestly,” he exhaled, brows furrowing slightly, “you.”

“Me?” Not the answer you’d expected.

“Yes, you,” he spoke with a hint of teasing, flashing a quick smile at you before glancing away. “I was thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed myself this much on a date. I really like you, Y/N.” His eyes returned to yours like they were searching for your response.

His earnestness left you speechless for a moment. You stared back at him - his eyes were so green, so beautiful, like waves were crashing against white sand just behind his pupils.

“I like you too, Harry.” He relaxed slightly, shifting his position a hair. “This is definitely the best date I’ve been on in a long time.” You weren’t always great at expressing emotion, but it was only fair for him to know how you felt too.

He grinned, then, and pushed himself up to slide closer to you on the floor. His eyes were still locked on yours, both of you smiling at each other like giddy teenagers. His arm was almost around you now but remained on the couch as you lowered your legs, returning them to a cross-legged position. Harry reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear before allowing his hand to rest gently on the side of your neck, thumb caressing your jawbone slowly. He looked you up and down, again admiring how gorgeous you looked before flitting his eyes to your lips.

He inhaled briskly, hand not halting its movements on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, of course. You don’t have to ask, but I appreciate it.” As much as you liked Harry being a gentleman, right now, you honestly just wanted him to be anything but.

He nodded quickly before pulling you forward, pressing his lips to yours. It started with slow, gentle movements of your lips together, but quickly became much more desperate. His hands roamed your face before moving to your waist, gripping the skin above your hips just firmly enough to drive you crazy. Your hands were pressed to his chest over his thin silk shirt, and you could feel the muscles there flex as he moved his hands around your body. You weren’t normally one to care about muscles, but something about his drove you crazy.

Harry’s thumbs brushed your lower ribs as he deepened the kiss, stealing your breath for a moment. Your hands instinctively moved to his hair, fingers knotting through and gently gripping his short curls. A small groan left his throat, shooting straight to your core. His hands suddenly gripped your hips harshly, lifting you to pull you into his lap. He swallowed the small gasp you let out as he did so, flattening his hands on your back to pull you against him as you settled on his thighs. The kiss was sloppy, now, almost depraved, as he tried to pull you as close as physically possible. The way you were tugging his hair was driving him wild, you could tell, and it only encouraged you.

You pulled away from his mouth for just a second as your fingers moved to toy with the small buttons of his shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Please,” Harry sighed, loosening his grip on you so you had the space to work. As you undid the last button, he pulled away from the couch and shrugged the shirt off, allowing it to fall onto the floor behind him.

He was breathtaking. At dinner, you could see the tattooed heads of what you assumed to be two small birds peeking out from under his shirt, but you weren’t expecting him to have so many more. Those swallows sat just underneath his collarbone, above a large butterfly on his stomach that almost appeared lifelike, the ink stretching and compressing as he breathed. His left arm was nearly covered in various small symbols and words, and you made a mental note to ask about them later.

Your hands returned to his chest, this time without barriers. The skin there was soft to the touch but you could feel the firm muscle underneath. It was warm. Hot.

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a smirk at your wide-eyed gaze. After a few seconds of letting you stare, he pulled your lips back to his, unable to wait. It was just as desperate as before.

His large hands slowly slid down your back as your mouths moved together, finding the hem of your shirt before reaching underneath it to grab your hips. The feeling of his warm hands contrasted with the cold metal of the rings he wore, pulling a small gasp from you.

His firm grip on your hips was short-lived as his hands quickly began drifting upwards, thumbs slightly massaging your lower ribs. Fingers splayed on your back, Harry felt you pant into the kiss, unable to catch your breath.

He pulled away for a second, removing his hands from your skin. A small groan escaped you at the loss of warmth, which you hoped Harry didn’t notice. One hand moved to hold your face and the other bunched the hem of your shirt and tugged on it slightly.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, not breaking eye contact. He needed to make sure you were okay with it, just like he would with whatever else ended up happening that night.

You nodded quickly, helping him lift the shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor beside you. He gripped your shoulders and pushed you away slightly so he could see you.

Harry thought you were stunning. His eyes raked longingly over every inch of you - shoulders, arms, breasts, and stomach, taking it all in. His hands slid off your shoulders to press against your ribs again, thumbs brushing the skin just under your bra. He tore his eyes away from the fabric and skin, gazing at you slack-jawed with blown-out pupils.

“Y’so beautiful, Y/N,” he panted, words slurred slightly from the breathlessness, and your heart just about burst in your chest. You weren’t used to being looked at like this, and it made you nervous, but the look in Harry’s eyes told you there was nothing to be afraid of. He didn’t look like he just wanted to fuck you – he looked like he wanted to worship you.

Instead of a response, you smashed your lips back to his. One of the hands gripping your ribs shifted to cup you over your bra, and you couldn’t help the moan that you let out. This only spurred Harry on as he followed suit, groaning into your mouth. The noise was divine – a low, throaty rumble that went straight to your core.

You needed more of his skin on you. Now.

You reached behind yourself and unhooked your bra, shaking it off your shoulders until it dropped to the floor on top of your shirt. While you appreciated Harry asking for permission to continue with everything, you couldn’t wait until he worked up the nerve to ask you before feeling his bare hands on your chest.

He took your invitation to continue grasping at your breast, this time with no barrier. A louder moan left you as his thumb brushed over your nipple, electricity pulsing through your veins. Harry groaned into your mouth again, his other hand resting on your ass and bringing it forward until you sat directly on top of his length. It pressed deliciously against you, pulling another gasp from your throat. He was hard beneath you as you ground back on him, hips rocking in sync with the kiss.

You broke away for a moment to catch your breath, continuing to move against him. Your head fell back until you were panting up at the ceiling. Harry wasted no time in connecting his lips with your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, licks, and soft bites along it and down to your shoulder blades. The room was quiet apart from the symphony of both of your breathing, the crackle of the fire, and the odd car passing by.

He continued to kiss down your body to the soft tissue of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth. The feeling was heaven as his tongue flicked the bud before moving to the other side, his thumb replacing it. His other hand was reaching down your stomach to the button of your shorts, toying with the seams of the fabric. He removed his mouth from you, and you had to hold back a whine of disappointment.

“Is it alright if we get these off of you?” he asked tenderly, staring into you again. You nodded hastily, helping him unbutton them and lifting your hips so he could pull the fabric down your legs and over your knees. You kicked them off, leaving you in just your underwear as he looked you up and down again.

With the layer of fabric gone, your center met his again. You could feel the warmth radiating from his shaft as you pressed onto him, the two of you both groaning in pleasure. The rigid zipper of his pants rubbed firmly against your clit addictively.

A sudden wave of insecurity rushed over you as you realized the situation you’d put yourself in. Here you were, on a blind date with a near stranger, and you were already sitting on top of him in just your underwear while he was still in his pants. It wasn’t like you to give in to a man this quickly, but Harry’s face and smile and body and charm had gotten into your head and pushed away your ability to reason. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be doing this - it was quite the opposite, you were having a lovely time. You just didn’t want Harry to think you were easy, or that this was your plan.

You didn’t realize your movements against Harry had stilled until he was holding your face again, forcing you to look at him. He knew you were in your head about something, and he needed to find out what before taking things any further.

“Y/N, hey, what’s wrong? Do y’need to stop?” His voice was thick with concern as he searched your eyes for discomfort. You shook your head hurriedly, not wanting him to think you weren’t enjoying yourself.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you sighed, face flushing in embarrassment. “I’m just– I’m not usually the type to fuck on the first date. I don’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you.”

“Well, ‘f it helps, I wasn’t planning on having sex with you tonight.” Before you could react negatively (as you were about to) he quickly continued, “I just want to make you feel good tonight. You said you’ve been stressed out all week about work, and I just want to make that go away for you for a while. S’that okay, baby?”

Of course, he knew the perfect thing to say. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head at how considerate he was, and the pet name at the end was the cherry on top. “That sounds really nice. Thank you, Harry.”

He chuckled before lifting your hips off of his and setting you on the floor next to him, making sure you were close to the fireplace so you didn’t get cold. His hands prompted you to turn your body so you were parallel to the couch. One hand took root in your hair while the other caressed the bare skin on your hip as he kissed you again, slower this time. Harry used your hair as leverage to slowly pull you down until you were on your back on the floor, him slotted between your open legs.

“I want to take care of you, sweetheart, is that okay?” As if you would say no.

Your whiny ‘yes’ was rewarded with his hands caressing your inner thighs slowly, teasingly. You assumed you were noticeably soaked, the baby pink cotton of your underwear unforgiving when it came to hiding your arousal. He massaged the soft skin, moving upwards until his thumb brushed over the fabric’s seam nestled in the crease of your thigh. Your hips moved of their own accord, lifting in search of any friction they could find. Harry tsked quietly, securing a hand on your hip and pushing it back down on the floor.

He rolled onto his side from between your legs, supporting himself on an elbow with his hand cradling your head and wrapping an ankle around your leg to keep them open. His other hand traced a soft line over the wet patch between your legs, fingers brushing your clit with a feather-light touch. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harry, please,” you whined, trying to regulate your breathing.

He chuckled teasingly. “What d’you need, baby? Use your words.”

“I need –” you cut yourself off, unsure of why you were embarrassed to say it when you knew he already knew what you wanted. “I need you to touch me, please.”

That was all he needed before he slipped his fingers underneath your underwear and swiped them through your wet folds. The contact was heavenly, forcing a choked moan from your throat as he drew circles around your clit in a precise rhythm. He was obviously experienced, building that warm feeling in your stomach faster than even you could yourself.

“Need these off,” he ordered, tugging your underwear down your legs and helping you kick them off before he hooked an ankle around your knee and spread your legs again. His hand returned to your core, this time with his thumb pressing on your clit and his middle finger teasing your entrance. Your soft groan encouraged him to slide it into you, pulling a myriad of lush sounds from your mouth as he pumped in and out. When he curled his fingers into you and brushed against the spongy patch that felt so good, you thought you were a goner. That was until he slipped his ring finger in alongside his middle and picked up his motions on your clit once more. It didn’t take long at all for you to reach the edge, the feeling building in your insides until you felt like a rubber band about to snap.

“Harry, I’m gonna –” a prolonged moan interrupted your statement.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he spoke softly in your ear, leaving a small kiss on your cheekbone. “Let it go for me.”

That was all you needed. The rubber band inside you snapped, and your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. You clenched tightly around Harry’s fingers, hips writhing, as he worked you through your release. He whispered praises in your ear but you could barely hear them as the room seemed to disappear, leaving just you and the feeling of Harry’s touch. You had to grip his wrist to remove his hand from you after a few seconds, the continued motion turning overstimulating quickly.

After taking a moment to catch your breath, you rolled onto your side to throw an arm around Harry’s neck and pull him closer to you. Your nakedness was catching up to you as not even the warmth from the fireplace was enough.

Harry quickly realized how cold you were and turned to grab the throw blanket off of the couch, draping it over both of you. That was something you were quickly learning about Harry – he was very attentive, and he seemed to be able to anticipate your needs before you even realized them yourself.

After a few moments of quiet, the sounds of your breathing mixing with the other ambient noises, you spoke. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything for you? I feel bad leaving you, you know, high and dry.”

He laughed, leaning down to press a kiss against your hair. “I promise m’okay, Y/N. What you can do for me, though, is let me clean you up and get you in bed. Our backs are going to kill us tomorrow if we stay on this floor any longer.”

----------

After Harry helped you clean up and change into a fresh pair of pajamas, he slipped out of his trousers, leaving him in just his boxers. You’d both crawled into your bed, and you rested your head against his bare chest as his arm stroked small circles on your shoulder. It took everything in you not to fall asleep, but you didn’t want this night with him to end quite yet.

“Harry?” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere in the room with your words.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you for everything tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed myself this much, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

“Y’ don’t have to thank me – I had just as good of a time. You’re really special, Y/N. I’d love to do this again, if you’d let me?”

“Which part?” you laughed, “the dinner part or the after-dinner part?”

“Well, honestly, preferably both.” You were both laughing now, his stomach muscles tensing under your hand.

“I think I’d be okay with that,” you agreed, knowing deep down you’d probably beg on your hands and knees for him to let you see him again.

“Thank you, baby. Now get some sleep.” He pressed another kiss to your hair and pulled you tighter to his chest, his other hand ensuring the blankets were tucked snugly around your shoulders before he allowed his body to sink back against the pillows. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a certain brown-haired boy that you knew wouldn’t be leaving your mind anytime soon.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry styles #hs1 #hs2 #hs3 #one direction #harry #haz

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dollfacefantasy · 2 days ago

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how’d you think spanking with frank would go ><

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, spanking, brat taming, subspace a/n: eeee thank you for the frank ask bb, i hope you enjoy <3

you cry out as another harsh smack lands on your backside. the sting reverberates across your ass, already burning from several previous swats just like that one.

a whine trickles from your lips, and you lazily kick your feet up and down. it's not an attempt to fight off frank, just a way of coping with the painful glow you feel developing on your cheeks.

either way, your boyfriend doesn't care. you know the rule. no moving when he has you over his knee. he responds to your disobedience with another two swats, one on each side.

you cry out again at that, bucking your hips atop his thighs and trying to squirm forward. now you are trying to get away. you reach out and claw at the blankets in front of you. frank had sat down at an angle when he started this, allowing you to rest your front half on the mattress, to bury your face against the bed if needed.

the position wasn't meant for you to escape though.

wrapping his hands around your waist, he drags you back and centers you on his lap again.

"such a brat tonight. you must want this bad, sweetheart," he grumbles before delivering another firm lash.

you squeal, toes curling and thighs flexing. "'m not being bad," you whimper. your voice comes out breathy through your shaky pout.

"really? we're lying now too?" he taunts, clapping his hand against the space where your thighs meet your ass, "you know you're supposed to stay still. not make this harder for me."

"i can't help it," you plead, "it hurts too much."

he chuckles at the petulant ring to your words. for a moment, you get a little break. he rubs his hand against your bottom in soothing circles, smoothing it over the aching skin. but it only lasts a second before he brings his palm down harder than before, slapping you so hard tears form in your eyes.

"frank!" you whine, sniffling a little.

"it hurts too much," he echoes your words mockingly, "i know you can take it, babydoll. just like all the other times i've had to deal with your attitude."

"i'm sorry," you whimper. you turn your head to look back at him over your shoulder, giving him a glimpse at your shimmery eyes.

it doesn't soften him up any though. he tuts at you and pats your ass. ordinarily, the touch wouldn't hurt, but with how many times he's hit you, it bites a little.

"crying won't get you out of this, honey. i warned you. told you what would happen if you kept running your mouth," he reminds you.

"i know but-" you start only to watch his hand raise again.

his palm is red by this point. you wonder if it stings a little at the same time your skin does. even if it did, frank would never move to something else. he'd threaten the belt on occasion, but you'd never come close to actually provoking it off his waist. it was always his hand correcting your bratty attitude. never a tool. always skin on skin.

a few hot tears stream down your cheeks as he pops you this time. you let out a tiny sob and drop your head forward again.

"i don't want excuses. you take what i'm giving you," he says.

in contrast to his words, his touch eases up a bit. his palm runs up and down your spine, sliding under the hem of your shirt that's bunched around your waist. the thumb on his other hand ducks between your thighs and rubs up and down your center over your panties. the digit slots between your puffy folds. it glides across your clothed entrance, flattening out to massage your slit.

he hasn't even neared your clit yet, and you're already melting. your breathing is still rough, but your sobs have quieted. that light pressure against your pussy is all it takes to reduce you to a puddle. you're not sure why, what part of your brain reacts so strongly to the first sign of tenderness after all the spanks, but it's out of your control.

you lower your head onto the bed, cheek squishing against the cool sheets. one of your hands stays on his knees, loosely attached to the rough denim.

"there you go. take a deep breath," he murmurs.

the tip of his thumb ventures south and circles that throbbing bud. it swirls in tight rotation, teasing its arrival. when it does finally press on your button, you mewl and a shudder courses through your body.

he wiggles the fingertip back and forth, stroking your clit just how you like. your fingers flex against his joint while you smoosh your face into the bed.

"for someone having such a hard time, you're pretty wet," he says, "almost soaking through your underwear onto my leg."

"it still hurts..." you defend weakly.

he huffs out a small laugh. he can tell your head is drifting to that sticky, sweet space where thoughts come second to feeling good. your words sound slightly garbled. your hips lightly rock up and down into his touch.

"yeah, and you like how it hurts, so no complaining next time," he says.

he stops playing with you for a second to flip you over. you whine at first, but settle down the second he gets you cradled to his chest. his hand slips right back into your panties, this time at an angle to rub you more strategically. you whimper, letting your mind empty out again. every little flick to that nub between your legs drains another thought from your head.

frank holds no delusions that this will be the last time you act up to the point of a spanking, but that's because neither of you want it to be. you'd never get tired of ending the night limp and dazed in his lap, and he'd never stop wanting to get you like that.

he didn't mind dealing with his little brat's tantrums when she looked so precious in the end.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher smut #marvel x reader #marvel smut #ch: frank castle 💌

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seokmn · 2 days ago

Text

pairing: joshua x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.2k words

warnings: mentions of drinking, brief moment of shirtless joshua, suggestive moment if you squint reaaally hard

joshua took a sip of his drink and pointed his index finger at you, “what do you think of me? no sugarcoating”. you also took a sip of your drink and gave him a small nod before speaking, “i think youre cool”

“seriously? cool? just ‘cool’?”

you shrugged your shoulders, “what else do you want me to say?”. joshua looked away and pouted, his voice was as quiet as a whisper, “i thought you were going to say a little bit more”

you rolled your eyes, “i think youre really polite and kind with people. hm… i dont like the way you always find a new song to obsess with and sing the same verse for days every single time, but at the same time, i love your voice, it gives people comfort. your voice is like a hug after a stressful day.” you took a long sip of your drink before continuing, “i also like when you smile and how your eyes disappear. let’s see… i like when you always try to reassure me that everythings fine when i mess something up and when you look at me when im looking at you and your dimples come out. oh and-“

“i think thats enough” joshua cut you off and chuckled. he shook his head slightly, finding funny how you started yapping about the things you like about him. that being a sign that you were starting to get tipsy. “if you keep going ill think i like me or something”

“okay, my turn now. look at me” you leaned forward, your chest glued to the table as you looked at joshua’s face intensely. joshua smiled a bit and leaned forward as well, looking at you. “‘kay, im looking”

“do you see someone looking back at you or do you see someone thats in love with you?” you asked, eyes narrowing as you tried to analyze his reaction. on the other side, joshua’s smile died and he suddenly got shy. he drank all of his drink in one sip and rubbed the back of his neck. “so… youre in love with me?”

you just nodded with an affiliative smile on your face, “yes. very much so”

joshua could feel his cheeks heating up. he stood up and walked towards you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and looked down at you, “im afraid youre getting drunk so i guess its time for us to leave, i dont want to keep saying things that you might regret about tomorrow.”

“but its your birthday and i just confessed to you… dont you feel the same?”

“maybe…” he chuckled, “ill only admit it when you tell me about your feelings while being sober. now lets go, ill take care of you”

you huffed, “fiiiine… but you know, that is so not fair!”

“its my birthday, so its fair if i say so and im telling you thats soo fair”

he paid for the drinks and food you two consumed and went back to his place with you. he let you sleep on his bed while he slept on the couch.

you could hear the birds chirping and feel the sun on your face. you slowly sat up, frowned and placed your hand on your head, feeling it hurt. “gosh…” you looked around and noticed the obvious, that wasnt your bedroom. panic was slowly starting to increase, but it died as soon as you heard a voice singing in the background. you knew that sweet voice too well. you were at joshua’s home.

you walked towards the voice and you found him shirtless and cooking. you blushed a little and cleared your throat to make your presence known, he turned around and looked at you, giving a smile that warmed your heart. “good morning, did you sleep well?”

“morning.. yea, i slept very well, but now my head is killing me” he chuckled, “that wont be a problem anymore” he said as he placed a bowl of hangover soup in front of you. you mumbled a thank you and started eating it, enjoying the taste.

“is it good?”

“ah, yes. its really good! you know what else would be good?” joshua raised his eyebrow, waiting for you to tell him. “a shirt”

the man laughed and smirked, “cmon, i know you love it. but okay, ill put on a shirt”. you watched him put on a white shirt, but you were with a puzzled expression on your face, why would he say that? was he only being extra or did you say something last night? “what you mean? i dont love it!”

“oh, so you dont remember about last night?” he had a cocky smile on his lips and your eyes widened. last night? what did you do or say last night? you looked at him with a blank expression for a few seconds, trying to process everything. once you thought you got it, you immediately gasped and placed your arms on your chest and on your lap, as if you were trying to hide your body.

joshua’s eyes widened as well and he shook his head, completely in panic. “no! its not what youre thinking!! i even slept on the couch!” he said as he pointed at the couch with some pillows and a blanket. you looked at the couch and let out a deep breath you didnt know you were holding.

“then why would you say such a thing?!” you looked at the soup and muttered while mixing it with the spoon, “saying like we did something…”

“so you dont remember what you asked me last night? whoa… you really cant drink alcohol”

“what i asked you…?” you tried your best to remember about the night before. a few memories started to come together and your jaw started to slowly drop as you remembered the stupid answers you gave to his questions and the even more stupid question you asked him. you hid your mouth with your hand and looked at joshua in complete shock.

“looks like someone remembers now” he said with a smirk on his face, crossing his arms as he leaned on the kitchen counter. “i-uh…”

“was it true or just drunk words?”

“why do you wanna know?” you raised your eyebrow. you were getting defensive because you didnt know what to answer. would he dump you? would your friendship with him be ruined because of your feelings?

joshua tilted his head and smiled gently, “i think i deserve to know, dont i?”. you scoffed while looking away before looking back at you, “maybe it was true, so what? huh? its not like im gonna chase you or try to make you fall in love with me or some shit like that!”

he just let out a calm sigh and took the bowl of soup away from you. “hey! if you dont feel the same just say it, you dont have to take my food away!”

“get your coat”

“woah-“ you scoffed, feeling offended, “youre kicking me out? is that it?”

“nope, im going to take you on a date. your feelings are reciprocated and as a late birthday gift we’ll be enjoying a really good time together. and who knows, maybe in three months you wont have to pretend to not like to see me shirtless anymore”

you rolled your eyes, not being able to hold back your smile. you grabbed your coat and ran to him, interlocking your arm with his. “that sounds good, i like it. and just to let you know, i never said i dont like to see you shirtless” he chuckled as he opened the front door, “i know. but its nice to tease you”

you playfully hit his arm and he laughed. “lets go?”

“lets go.”

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