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#yeah that's when you start to think 'what did this bastard do to me.'
lilbittymonster · 2 days
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Day 18: Hackneyed
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Aymeric was on the couch reading when Kitali finally emerged from the bath, still squeezing water from her hair.
“You have a letter,” he said, nodding to the sealed envelope on the side table. “It arrived a couple days ago.”
“Who’s it from?”
“No idea. Some secret admirer, by the looks of it.”
She scoffed, and then made a noise of disgust when she held up the letter. Aymeric chuckled, knowing how the address of “Dearest Warrior of Light” with a dramatic heart beneath would be received. The snap of the wax seal being broken was followed by the sound of papers shuffling against each other.
“Four pages,” she said. “Front and back.”
He looked up from his book to see her holding the letter as though it were a rotten head of chyshal greens. The curl of her lip did not lessen as she read first one page, then the back, then the second, before at last she rolled her eyes and marched across the room to throw the whole bundle into the fire with a shower of sparks.
Aymeric nearly choked on the mouthful of tea he had just taken.
“That bad, was it?”
She settled onto the couch, rubbing a hand across her eyes as she laid her head in his lap.
“Yeah, that bad. I don’t know why people keep sending me shit like that, it’s not as if it’s a secret we’re married.”
“What, you don’t think you can do better than a bastard from only a minor house?” he joked. “I’m sure you could if you tried.”
“But I don’t want to do better than a bastard from a minor house,” she said, looking up at him. “I want you.”
Warmth bloomed in his chest, as it always did when she looked at him like that. He leaned into the hand that she brought up to his cheek and pressed a lingering kiss to her palm.
“And what, pray tell, did your mystery admirer say to you to earn such a fiery rejection?”
Kitali sighed. “So. He started with an actual introduction.”
“Already better than the last one,” Aymeric remarked.
“Better than the last one,” she agreed. “Then the first page or so was spent extolling my many virtues-” she rolled her eyes mockingly- “half of which were exaggerated and the other half were entirely fabricated. Then he started making all sorts of assumptions about how I must surely be a ‘woman of the world’, whatever that’s supposed to mean, and how I would surely be in want of a partner who could match my sense of adventure. And then he suggested that I run away with him, at which point I threw it in the fire. I have no interest in reading what he thinks would happen on such an affair.”
“Hm. Not very original, I must say,” Aymeric hummed. “I think I have…...no less than three books on that shelf alone that follow the very same plot.”
Kitali chuckled.
“The whole thing read like a bad soup of every two gil romance book I’ve ever read. It was so-” She stopped, motioning searchingly in front of her. “What’s the word. There has to be a word.”
“Hackneyed,” Aymeric supplied. “Cliched. Trite.”
“Sure, one of those.” She sighed again. “I leave for a tenday and this is what I come home to.”
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Malfunctioned
When Dynamight's gauntlets malfunctioned two things happened:
1. You were 1000% sure you were going to end a crispy support engineer because you couldn't keep your mouth closed. 2. You must have been going through some caffeine induced trance because you might actually have a crush on Bakugou Kaksuki.
Dynamight's smirk didn't fade, much to your mortification. "Fine. But don't think I didn't notice you checking me out, nerd. I might have to start charging admission."
You groaned, eyes glued to the screen. How in God's good name did you get here?
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Chapter One:
Bakugou
Bakugou's boots pounded the pavement, his eyes scanning the streets below. Perched on a rooftop, he surveyed the streets. The setting sun cast long shadows across the city, perfect cover for the scum that crawled out after dark. 
His fingers twitched. Sweat beaded on his palms, ready to ignite. It had been too damn quiet lately. He needed some action, needed to blow something up.
"Come on, you bastards," he growled. "Give me a reason."
A flicker of movement caught his eye. Down in an alley, three figures huddled around a fourth. Bakugou grinned. Showtime.
He launched himself off the roof, using controlled explosions to guide his descent. The rush of freefall sent adrenaline surging through his veins. This was what he lived for.
Bakugou landed with a resounding boom, concrete cracking under his feet. The thugs whirled along with the man they had caught in the streets.
"D-Dynamight!" The nearly-bold man exclaimed.
The thugs' eyes darted around the alleyway looking for an escape, when they found none, they dropped the middle-aged salaryman.
"Beat it," Bakugou ordered the portly man, who simply nodded and  scrambled away.
"Well, well," Bakugou sneered, rising to his full height. "What do we have here? A bunch of fucking pathetic losers."
He took in the scene with a practiced eye. Three villains, probably small-time. The one on the left, a hulking brute with arms like tree trunks. Likely some kind of strength enhancement quirk. Center, a weaselly looking fucker with unnaturally long fingers. Those nails looked sharp—some kind of claw quirk? And on the right, a twitchy bastard whose skin seemed to shimmer and shift. Camouflage, maybe?
"Dynamight!" The leader, Claws, hissed. "We ain't done nothin' wrong!"
Bakugou's lip curled. "Yeah? Then why's that guy running like his ass is on fire?" He jerked his chin toward the fleeing civilian. "Face it, you third-rate villains. You're fucked."
Muscles cracked his knuckles. "Big talk for one hero against the three of us."
"Three?" Bakugou laughed, harsh and mocking. "I could take you extras down with both hands tied behind my back!"
He raised his gauntlets, savoring the familiar weight. One good blast would send these losers flying. 
"Any last words before I turn you into smoking craters?"
Claws snarled and lunged forward. Bakugou's finger tightened on the trigger. 
Nothing happened.
For a split second, Bakugou froze. What the fuck? He squeezed again. A pathetic puff of smoke wheezed from the barrel. 
"Shit!" 
Bakugou barely had time to dodge as Claws swiped at his face. Those razor-sharp nails whistled past his ear, slicing off a few strands of hair.
Fucking shit.
The fucking gauntlets were malfunctioning. Again. He was going to murder that glasses son of a bitch when he got back to the agency.
No time to dwell on it now. He'd just have to do this the old-fashioned way.
Bakugou's grin turned feral. "Alright, you want to do this up close and personal? Fine by me!"
He ducked under another swipe from Claws and drove his fist into the villain's solar plexus. As Claws doubled over, gasping, Bakugou grabbed his arm and used the momentum to hurl him into Muscles.
The two villains collided with a satisfying crunch. But where was the third? 
A flicker in his peripheral vision was all the warning he got. Bakugou threw himself to the side as Camouflage materialized, swinging a length of pipe. 
The makeshift weapon clanged against the alley wall. Bakugou rolled to his feet, hands already sparking.
"That the best you got?" He taunted. "My dead grandmother hits harder than you!"
Camouflage's form shimmered, starting to fade. Ah nah, fucker. Bakugou slammed his palms together, creating a concussive blast that filled the alley with smoke and debris. 
A hacking cough gave away Camouflage's position. Bakugou lunged, tackling the now-visible villain to the ground. A few well-placed explosions, and Camouflage was out cold.
Movement behind him. Bakugou whirled just in time to see Muscles charging, meaty fists raised. 
Time seemed to slow. Bakugou's combat instincts took over. He waited until the last possible second, then dropped and swept Muscles' legs out from under him. As the villain stumbled, Bakugou planted both hands on his chest.
"Die!" He roared, letting loose with the biggest explosion he could muster.
Was it over kill? Yeah. But he was too angry to give a fuck.
Muscles flew backward, smashing into a dumpster with bone-jarring force. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Claws, the only one left standing, looked from his fallen comrades to the snarling hero. His nerve broke. He turned to run.
"Oh no you don't!" Bakugou snarled. He pressed the triggers on his gauntlets, muscle memory taking over. Nothing. Useless piece of shit!
With a growl of frustration, Bakugou launched himself forward. One hand latched onto Claws' jacket. The other ignited, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a controlled blast.
Bakugou landed on top, pinning the struggling villain. "Stay down if you know what's good for you," he growled.
Claws went limp.
"That's what  I thought."
Bakugou stood, surveying the destruction around him. The alley looked like a war zone. Scorch marks blackened the walls, and the dumpster Muscles had hit was crumpled like a tin can. 
Not bad for hand-to-hand. But it should have been easier. Those gauntlets were designed to concentrate and amplify his explosions. He could have easily finished the scum with one blast.
He raised one arm, squeezing the trigger again. Nothing but an anemic spark. 
"Fuck!" Bakugou slammed his fist against the wall. This was the third time in as many weeks that his support gear had malfunctioned. It was getting beyond a joke.
He needed those gauntlets. Sure, he could fight without them—he'd just proved that. But against a real threat? A high-level villain? That malfunction could get him killed.
Bakugou's jaw clenched. He knew exactly who to blame for this clusterfuck. That smug bastard in Support. The one who kept insisting he knew better than him what he needed. 
He'd told him the calibration was off. Told him the firing mechanism was sticking. But the fucking nerd had the nerve to tell him it was normal.
Bakugou's blood boiled. He was the number two hero, for fuck's sake! He deserved better than this second-rate crap. 
Bakugou activated his comm, barking orders for a police pickup. As he secured the villains, his mind raced with all the choice words he had for a certain support technician. 
"Get the fuck out of my way!"
Bakugou's snarl sent interns scattering like roaches. Good. He was in no mood for pleasantries.
The agency hallways blurred as he stormed through. His hands sparked and smoked, itching to wrap around a certain four-eyed bastard's throat.
He caught his reflection in a glass door. Blood-spattered. Uniform torn. Looking like he'd gone ten rounds with a meat grinder. All because that smug piece of shit couldn't do his fucking job.
Bakugou's lip curled. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.
The door to the support department exploded inward, nearly flying off its hinges. Startled yelps filled the air as techs dove for cover.
"Where is he?" Bakugou roared. His eyes scanned the room, locking onto his target. "You!"
Haruto's eyes went wide behind those stupid glasses. “D-Dynamight, sir! I wasn't expecting—"
"Shut it." Bakugou's voice dropped to a dangerous growl. He stalked forward, backing the other man against a workbench. "You want to explain to me why I just had to take down three villains with my bare fucking hands?"
"I-I'm not sure what you mean," Haruto stammered. That fake confusion only pissed Bakugou off more. "Did something happen with your gear?"
"Did something—" Bakugou's laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. "You're goddamn right something happened! These pieces of shit gauntlets you swore were 'working perfectly' didn't fire!"
He slammed the malfunctioning gear onto the bench. The impact left a dent in the metal surface.
Haruto flinched. "Now, now, I'm sure it's not as bad as all that. Perhaps you're exaggerating a bit? After all, you did defeat the villains..."
"Exaggerating?" Bakugou's voice went deadly quiet. The room temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. "You think I'm exaggerating ?"
He seized a fistful of Haruto's shirt, hauling him close. "Listen here, you arrogant fuck. I am the number two hero. When I go out there, lives are on the line. Mine, and the people I'm protecting. So when I tell you something's wrong with my gear, you fucking listen ."
Haruto's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "O-of course, sir. I apologize if there was any misunderstanding. I'm sure we can sort this out—"
"Oh, we're way past 'sorting out,'" Bakugou snarled. He released Haruto with a shove, sending the man stumbling. "You're going to fix these gauntlets. Now."
"Fix them?" Haruto's eyes darted nervously to the damaged gear. "Well, you see, that might be a bit difficult. The, ah, the calibration is quite delicate, and—"
"I don't want excuses!" Bakugou's fist slammed into the workbench. The metal buckled. "I want results! Now fix the damn things before I lose what little patience I have left!"
Haruto's shoulders slumped. "I... I can't."
For a moment, Bakugou was sure he'd misheard. "What?"
"I can't fix them," Haruto repeated, voice barely above a whisper. "The truth is, I... I never fully understood how they worked in the first place. I've been trying to replicate the original design, but—"
"You what ?" The words came out as more of a roar than a question. Bakugou's vision went red. "You've been bullshitting this entire time?"
Haruto flinched. "I-I thought I could figure it out! I didn't want to admit—"
"You're fired."
Haruto's mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out.
"But... but sir, you can't—"
"I can, and I fucking well am." Bakugou's eyes blazed. "Pack your shit and get out. Now."
He turned to address the rest of the support staff, who were all doing their best to look invisible. "Any of you other extras know how to fix these?"
Silence. A sea of wide eyes and shaking heads.
"Un-fucking-believable." Bakugou ran a hand through his hair.
A thought struck him. It left a sour taste in his mouth, but desperate times and all that shit.
"Fine," he growled. "If you useless fucks can't handle it, we'll go to someone who can. Get me a list of the top support agencies in the area. Now!"
There was a flurry of movement as techs scrambled to comply. Bakugou's scowl deepened. He hated relying on outside help. But he'd be damned if he'd risk his life—or worse, his reputation—because of faulty equipment.
He'd find someone who could fix this mess. And when he did, they'd better be prepared for the highest standards in the business.
Bakugou's lips curled into a feral grin. Oh yes, he was going to put whatever poor bastard they found through absolute hell.
It was time to separate the extras from the real deal.
You
You stepped into your workshop, the familiar chaos of the space making you instantly smile. The room was a jumble of organized disorder, with workbenches cluttered with half-finished projects and shelves lined with an eclectic array of tools and components. Holographic displays flickered in the air, projecting schematics and data readouts that cast a soft blue glow over the room.
You made your way to your primary workstation, carefully navigating around a precariously balanced tower of circuit boards and a robotic arm that was in the middle of some much-needed maintenance. The air hummed with the soft whir of cooling fans and the occasional spark from a nearby soldering station.
As you settled into your chair, you pulled on a pair of magnifying goggles and picked up a set of micro-precision tools. Before you lay Chargebolt's support item - a circular mechanism designed to be worn on his wrist. It was an intricate piece of technology, meant to aid the pro hero in aiming his Quirk by shooting disc-shaped Pointers.
You lost yourself in the work, your hands moving as you carefully adjusted the internal components. Your fingers danced over the delicate circuitry, tweaking and fine-tuning with a level of precision that came from years of experience. The world around you faded away.
"How's it coming along?"
The voice startled you out of your concentration. You looked up to see Ryoichi Kuroda, your colleague and fellow electronics specialist, peering over your shoulder with interest.
You leaned back, stretching out the kink in your neck. "Pretty well, actually. I think I've managed to increase the accuracy of the Pointers by about 15%."
Kuroda's eyebrows shot up. "Impressive. Chargebolt's going to be thrilled."
You smirked, unable to keep the smug pride out of your voice. "Well, he should be. I've been working on this thing for weeks."
Kuroda pulled up a chair, his eyes fixed on the mechanism. "Mind if I take a look?"
You shrugged, sliding the device over to him. "Be my guest. I could use a fresh pair of eyes."
As Kuroda examined your work, you found yourself explaining the modifications you'd made. "See, I've recalibrated the targeting system to account for atmospheric conditions. It should help Chargebolt aim more accurately, even in less-than-ideal weather."
Kuroda nodded. "Clever. But won't that put more strain on the power source?"
You grinned, reaching for a small component on your desk. "That's where this comes in. It's a new type of micro-battery I've been developing. Twice the power in half the size."
Kuroda whistled. "You've really outdone yourself this time."
You smiled. It was nice to have your hard work recognized, especially by someone as talented as Kuroda. "Thanks. But I'm not done yet. I still need to run some final tests before I'm ready to hand it over to Chargebolt."
Kuroda handed the device back to you. "Well, if anyone can pull it off, it's you. Just don't forget to eat and sleep occasionally, okay?"
You rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. "Yes, Mom. I promise I won't work myself to death."
As Kuroda chuckled and stood to leave, you turned back to your work. Your fingers itched to get back to the delicate circuitry.
You were so engrossed in your task that you barely noticed the hours slipping by. The workshop around you gradually emptied as your colleagues headed home for the day, but you stayed, determined to finish just one more adjustment.
It wasn't until your stomach growled loudly that you finally looked up, blinking in surprise at the darkened room around you. You glanced at the clock and groaned. It was well past midnight.
With a sigh, you carefully set aside Chargebolt's support item and began tidying up your workspace. As much as you wanted to keep working, you knew you needed to get some rest.  
You trudged into the izakaya, tired but damned grateful to grab a beer. Mai was already there, waving enthusiastically from a corner booth. You slid in across from her.
The lighting in this place was crap, it made the dark circles under your eyes 10 times worse, but it was cheap and good. And there was no way you would skip on good and cheap food just because the lighting made you look crappier than normal.
"Rough day?" Mai asked, pushing a cold beer towards you.
You took a long swig before answering. "Just busy. This new project for Chargebolt is kicking my ass."
Mai's eyes lit up. "Ooh, tell me more! What are you working on?"
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "It's a redesign of his wristband. We're trying to improve the aim assist for his Pointers. The tricky part is balancing the electrical output without frying the circuitry."
"Sounds complicated," Mai said, her brow furrowing.
You snorted. "That's putting it mildly. I've been knee-deep in schematics for weeks."
Mia nodded and took a sip of her drink. "You should be knees-deep between someone's legs, not with some project."
You laughed, "I wish."
Just then, a commotion near the entrance caught your attention. A tall, armored figure had walked in, and the entire izakaya erupted in excited whispers.
"Oh my god," Mai gasped, gripping your arm. "Is that Ingenium?"
You glanced over, confirming it was indeed the speed hero. "Yep, looks like it."
Mai was practically vibrating with excitement. "We should go say hi! Or get an autograph! Or-"
You cut her off with a gentle pat on her hand. "Mai, relax. They're just people doing their job, same as us."
Mai's gaze snapped back to you, her eyes narrowing. " Just people? Are you kidding me? Have you seen them?" She leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Heroes are hot as fuck."
You snorted, nearly choking on your beer. "Seriously? That's what you're focused on?"
"Oh, don't act all high and mighty," Mai teased. "You can't tell me you've never thought about it. All those tight costumes, rippling muscles..."
You actually had thought about it, but your friend didn't need to know that. "I'm a professional, Mai. I don't ogle the people I work with."
"Bullshit," she said, grinning. "I've seen the way you look at Deku's ass when he's in the news."
You spluttered, indignant. "I do not-"
"Oh please," Mai cut you off. "It's okay to admit it. They're like walking wet dreams in spandex."
"Fine," you gave in. "Maybe they're... aesthetically pleasing. But that doesn't mean anything."
Mai's triumphant smirk made you want to crawl under the table. "Knew it." Her eyes were still tracking Ingenium as he made his way to a private booth.
"God, I bet he's fast in bed too. Can you imagine? Those powerful thrusts, over and over, until you're screaming his name." Her smirk grew "his real name that is, or maybe his super kinky and he likes it when girls call him by his hero name."
You groan, dropping your forehead to the sticky tabletop. Thank God Ingenium couldn't hear them over the bustle of fans. "Jesus, Mai. TMI."
She ignored you, lost in her fantasy. "I wonder if his stamina translates to other areas. He could probably go all night long."
"For fuck's sake," you muttered into the table. "Can we please talk about literally anything else?"
Mai's attention snapped back to you. "What's your problem? How are you not impressed by him? He's Ingenium! One of the top heroes in the country!"
You sit up, scrubbing a hand over your face. How do you explain that after years of working with heroes, the shine has worn off? That you've seen them at their worst - sweaty, bruised, and bitching about malfunctioning gear. That you know the unglamorous reality behind the carefully crafted public personas.
But more than that, how do you admit that there's only one green hero who gets your blood pumping these days?
You settled for a noncommittal shrug. "I guess I'm just not into the whole speed thing."
Mai's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh? And what exactly are you into, then?"
You take a long swig of beer, avoiding her knowing gaze. "Nothing. No one. Shut up."
Mai finally tore her gaze away from Ingenium, focusing back on you with a sly grin. "Speaking of seeing people... when are you going to get back out there? It's been ages since you've been on a date or gotten some for that matter."
"I get—" you started to protest.
Your friend rolled her eyes, "that doesn't count. You need to get railed," she took a swig of her beer, eyes drifting to the speed hero. "Or at least go out on a date."
"Not this again. I've told you, I don't have time for dating right now."
"You have to make time!" Mai insisted. "You can't just work all the time. What about that cute guy from accounting?"
"The one who thinks Excel is a type of turn-on? Hard pass."
Mai laughed, shaking her head. "Okay, fair. But seriously, you need to get out more."
"I'm out right now, aren't I?" you countered, wildly gesturing to the izakaya around you.
"With your best friend doesn't count," Mai said, rolling her eyes. "I mean real dates. Meeting new people. Having fun!"
You sighed dramatically. "Bold of you to assume I find other people fun."
Mai snorted into her drink. "God, you're impossible. Fine, be a hermit. More cute guys for me."
"I thought you were happy with Kenji," you teased.
Mai's eyes softened at the mention of her boyfriend. "I am. He's... he's really great, actually. We're talking about moving in together."
 "Wow, that's a big step. Are you ready for that?"
Mai nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "I think so. It feels right, you know?"
You actually didn't know, not really, but you were happy for your friend. "That's awesome, Mai. I'm really glad you found someone who makes you happy."
"Thanks," Mai said, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. "I just want you to be happy too."
You squeezed back. "I am happy. I've got my work, my friends, what more do I need?"
Mai opened her mouth to argue, but was cut off by a sudden increase in volume from the TV mounted in the corner. You both turned to look, seeing the familiar explosive hero on screen.
"Breaking news," the anchor was saying, "Pro Hero Dynamight has just apprehended a group of villains attempting to rob the National Bank. Witnesses say the confrontation was over in minutes, with minimal damage to the surrounding area."
The screen cut to footage of Dynamight, looking typically surly as he spoke to the police. His costume was singed and there was a small cut on his cheek, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.
"Minimal damage?" you scoffed. "That's a first."
Mai elbowed you. "Come on, give him some credit. He's gotten a lot better at controlling collateral damage."
You had to admit she had a point. Dynamight had made significant strides in reining in his more… destructive tendencies over the years. Still, old habits died hard, and you found yourself rolling your eyes at his gruff demeanor on screen.
"I guess," you conceded. "But he's still an ass."
Mai laughed. "True. But a very effective ass." That smirk that let you know she was up to no good painted her face, "a very fine, tight ass."
You rolled your eyes and threw an edamame at her.
As the news moved on to other topics, you found your gaze lingering on the TV, your mind drifting to thoughts of explosive quirks and support gear. Maybe there was something in Dynamight's technique that could help with Chargebolt's design.
You shook your head, forcing yourself back to the present. This was supposed to be your night off, after all. You turned back to Mai who continued to not so subtly ogle Ingenium.
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dogearedheart · 6 months
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guys is it weird to call a guy you never even met after your girlfriend broke up with you?
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kjzx · 2 months
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I've been playing slitherio these past few days, and after some time messing around with nicknames and my own experience with the stuff, I've realized anger is something very easy to weaponize. On my second attempt of having "trans rights" as a nickname I killed a huge ~5k point worm as a teenie tiny 200 point worm simply because it was so desperate to kill me specifically. Anger makes your life harder, but it also makes people really unwise. I fucking bet this is in "the art of war", even though I haven't read it.
#Slitherio#Slither.io#If all these russian and pro war bastards can make me angry I damn bet I can try and make them mad too lol#It's such a pity pride flags aren't available in slitherio idc if the creators hate lgbt or not this is a great game mechanic#Users are easy to miss and if I'm a 6000 point long 💕🔵⚪🔵💕 worm people will go to me to fuck me up lol#Did I mention that I got to like 6200 barely attacking other worms myself? I don't think I did#I didn't count how much I attacked though so it doesn't count I should do a full defence kills run#If I play optimally I can get to a very big number I feel#You guys should try it too it's actually surprisingly fun if you're the kind of person to let go of things#Again though one good rule I learned these past few days is if someone's nickname makes you angry -> turn the other way#Being named 'trans rights' made me a target but also people attacking me were so much sloppier than when I was named 'meow'#It might be largely bc of the sheer number of attempts but hey. I've been there & I lost a few times specifically bc I was mad at some ppl#//interesting#Is the art of war a hard read though? Has anyone read it? I've heard it's fun#Oh yeah the mandatory vacation is messing with me a lot how'd you guess that?#Just don't think what this constant and never ending aggression towards a slogan in support of someone's existence in an online game says#about what it's like living in the world for these people#I've been mad at this at first but I'm starting to dig the shitty/absent censorship of both bigoted and also gay things. No hear me out...
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redsray · 7 months
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Batfam AU where Jason never dies, so Tim doesn't join the family the standard way. Instead, he continues pouring most of his time and energy into his photography, eventually becoming known as a popular photographer for events and all that. So now, picture this: Tim gets hired to be a photographer for a Wayne gala. Obviously, he's ecstatic, because he can take pictures of Batman, Robin and Nightwing and be in their presence for a whole night. Since Tim is so naturally talented in stealth and taking pictures unnoticed, the second one of the fam realises this they're like: this kid is good. Tim manages to go unnoticed by all 3 of them (all bat-trained, one literally batman) multiple times during the night, and even when he is noticed, he disappears before they can manage to get a good look at him; to the sheer amazement of Dick and Jason.
Jason, (very discreetly putting snacks in his suit pocket): i know you're under the table, kid.
Tim: don't mind me, Mr. Todd-Wayne, sir, just taking a few pictures
Jason: right... Jason's fine, and what pictures were you taking from under the table?!
Tim, showing him perfectly good shots of him: these.
Jason: how did you get that. it looks like you took it from the rafters
Tim, nodding: I did.
Jason, glancing at the ceiling: ...what?
Tim, gone:
Jason: no fucking way.
Dick, hearing a very, very faint camera shutter from behind him:
Dick, turning around and finding no one there: what the actual...
Dick, getting the feeling of being watched and whirling around to find Tim staring at him from across the room: ... huh.
Jason, pulling Dick aside: you see that kid too, right?!
Dick, nodding: the camera kid, yeah?
Jason: who is that.
Dick: he's one of the hired photographers, apparently. one of the best in his field, despite his age.
Jason: he's good. like, really good. snuck up on me 4 times already, the little bastard.
Dick: you too? i swear he's constantly watching. it's creepy how well he can sneak past both of us.
Jason:
Dick:
Jason: you don't think...
Dick: no. B would've told us.
Jason:
Dick:
Dick: did he get another kid and not tell us somehow
Bruce: what do you mean another kid?
Jason: you heard us. did you adopt another kid and not tell us?!
Bruce: no?? how would I even?? ... what's this about?
Dick: one of the photographers has managed to sneak up on both me and Jay multiple times already
Bruce: what.
Jason: he also can't be more than like. 15 or 16. so forgive us for assuming you took another one in.
Bruce: do you know his name?
Dick:
Jason:
Bruce: really?
Dick: in our defence, he's very hard to catch. i wouldn't be surprised if he's snuck up on you, too.
[camera shutter noise]
All of them, whipping their heads toward the sound only to find nothing but air:
Tim, smiling from the other side of the room:
Jason: do you see what we mean?!
Cue an entire night of shenanigans where it's just Dick, Jason and Bruce trying to catch Tim and learn about him. Upon finding out who he is and where he lives, Dick immediately asks to keep him as an honorary member of the family. Jason is hesitant at first but at some point Tim calls Bruce Batman instead of Mr. Wayne on accident and Jason laughs so hard he's basically won over. Bruce can do nothing but watch as Tim proceeds to come over almost every night for sleepovers and is coddled by both of his sons. And he can't deny, the kid's investigation and stealth skills are top tier. By the time Dick and Jason both start referring to Tim as 'their younger brother' Bruce has just accepted his fate.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 14 days
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hiii!!! maybe a request for reader getting a teeenny bit jealous about all the fans katsuki has after the war… then them realising he has a gf that he lovess way too much to be interested in them :3 <33
hii !! omg you did yo BIG TING with this ask cus i was LITERALLY thinking about writing something about this, im glad you got me to do it tho !! hope yall enjoy :33
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it's stupid, it's so stupid. really, it is.
but fuck, you can't help it.
the new first years were definitely endearing and excited to be starting the new year and meeting their seniors who saved the world. hell, you'd even gotten approached by some first years who claimed to be fans of yours. the interactions had given you a slight skip in your step, feeling just a bit giddy. but that giddiness immediately died down when you saw a swarm, a sea of squealing girls chasing after and clinging onto your boyfriend.
epmhasis on your. boyfriend. needless to say you quickly forgot all about your earlier giddiness.
of course, you trusted your katsuki more than anyone. and you knew he wouldn't do anything with any of these girls. it was silly to feel this way, but you just couldn't help feeling a smidge..just a smidge jealous.
your trusted class rep managed to fight off the swarm of freshmen, who were at least extremely apologetic, but your sour mood didn't wash away. not to mention you hearing izuku and the grape head bastard mineta talking about how your katsuki, your boyfriend, could possibly be flustered by the female attention he was getting did not help at all. you'll make sure to apologise to izuku later for the daggers you know he felt you glaring at the back of his head.
later though. and nothing for grape head.
you’re in your dorm room a few hours later, when there’s loud knocking at your door. you jump slightly at the sound, but you only know one person who knocks like this, and lo and behold, there stands your boyfriend when you open the door, looking rather displeased.
he cuts you off before you can get a word in, looking at you strangely “what the fuck are you doing ?”
your brows furrow in confusion “..what do you mean ?” katsuki rolls his eyes at you, shoving past you slightly so he can walk in and make himself comfy on your bed. “katsuki !” you complain.
he only offers you a grunt in response, settling onto your sheets “you’ve been avoiding me.” he states simply. your eyes widen as you splutter.
“wha—no i haven’t !”
“yeah, you have.” he sasses. “you barely even glanced at me all day.” he exhales through his nostrils, squinting at you “look, whatever’s got you pissy let’s just..fuckin’ talk about it okay ? don’t want whatever this is” he says, waving his hands around, repeating the words you often told him before.
his voice is still slightly gruff from having just been to the hospital recently. you appreciate his efforts to be more communicative and talk about your issues with him. it warms your heart but breaks it at the same time seeing as he though you were ignoring him without having realized it.
you sigh, getting closer until you’re plopping down into bed next to him. he raises a brow, arms crossed as he waits for you to speak.
“it’s nothing you did. in fact, it’s probably all me..” you mumble the last of your sentence, pouting a bit, you look away “‘m sorry if it seemed like i was ignoring you. i was— i’m just thinking weird things.”
you see him appear in your field of vision as he’d scooted himself closer to see you, for you to see him. “what weird things ?” his voice is slight calm, slight tremble in it from the softness of it. god, you feel stupid.
“i saw you today..”
“okay..? i saw you too.” you scoff, shaking your head. he huffs a slight laugh, nudging your hand with his “c’mon,” he urges.
“i-i saw those first years hanging all over you and i got jealous, okay !” you blurt out. you see his eyes widen as he registers your outburst for a millisecond, you refuse to look at him any longer, that was just too embarrassing. “i know you wouldn’t do something like cheating on me or something but—” you cut yourself off with a groan, huffing to yourself at the memory of the girls trying to get all over your man and asking him for autographs. you swore you heard someone ask for his number too.
you hear katsuki scoff from next to you “yeah, yeah i know, it’s hilarious.” you mutter bitterly, your tirade is cut off by your boyfriend grabbing your shoulders and pressing his lips to yours. the kiss catches you by surprise and you can barely squeal before he’s already deepening it, pushing you onto your pillows. you can’t really remember the last time you got to kiss him like this, and so you let yourself enjoy it. slowly wrapping your arms around shoulders and sighing happily.
the need for air forces you both to pull away, but even while catching his breath katsuki still presses two more kisses onto your lips, pressing his forehead to yours. it’s a habit he has every time he kisses you a little too intensely, it makes your heart beat so hard you’re afraid it’ll fly out of your chest and fly away.
“you’re..the cutest fucking moron i’ve ever met.” he says in between gasps, smirking down at you. you manage to pout up at him.
“mean.” you gasp, chest heaving. you turn your head away but he nudges it back with his own. bumping his head with yours. “hey,” he starts, voice considerably less breathy and softer.
“you’re it for me, you know that.” he utters sincerely. “don’t want no one else but you.”he runs his nose against your cheek, then slowly runs it against your neck, you have to hold back a shiver but he smirks wider at the goosebumps he can feel on your skin.
“those other girls are fucking nothin’. m’all yours.” he mutters, pink dusts his cheeks when he looks up at you seriously “and you’re fuckin’ mine, got me ? ‘ts just us two.”
your heart hammers against your chest, you can feel it in your ears. you can tell from his constant nervous cursing that he is embarrassed about telling you all this, if the blush on his cheeks didn’t already tell you that, but you know he means it. you know he’s trying to reassure you, to tell you that it’s just you and him and he doesn’t need anyone else. not now and not ever.
because he’s all yours, and you’re his.
you nod, because you do get him. “yeah ?” he utters quietly, lips almost pressed to yours fuly as he speaks. you nod again “yeah..” you whisper back. he hums, satisfied with your answer before suddenly pulling you with him so you lay on his chest, making you squeal in surprise .
“but shit, can’t believe you gave me the cold shoulder cus you were jealous..” he snickers. you poke at his hard chest, digging your head into his neck and you groan, he laughs harder. “worried some first year girl was gonna steal me away, huh baby ?”
“har, har, jerk.” you mumble grumpily. he sighs, his hands running up and down your sides to appease you. “ sorry for ignoring you..i was being stupid.”
“yeah you were, but that’s okay. you’re still mine.” he jests, squeezing your hips. you snort and roll your eyes, but tuck your head into his neck again to hide your giddy smile.
you were all his, and he was all yours.
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inkedinshadows · 1 month
Text
Nights and Days
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Pairing: Azriel × reader
Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter
Word count: 6.3k
A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺
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Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.
After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.
They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.
“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.
“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”
He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.
They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”
“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”
She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”
“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”
She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”
Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”
If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”
Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.
“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”
“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.
Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.
“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”
Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”
Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”
Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”
“So?”
He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?
“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”
Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.
Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.
She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”
He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”
She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”
“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”
“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”
Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.
“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”
She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”
Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.
“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.
“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”
“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”
“It matters to me.”
His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.
“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.
“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”
This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”
And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.
“Sleep on the bed. With me.”
Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.
Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”
She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?
“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”
“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”
She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”
The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”
“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?
“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.
“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”
He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.
She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.
“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.
“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”
How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.
But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.
“You're cold, aren't you?”
She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”
“Liar.”
“Prick.”
“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”
Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”
His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”
Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.
She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.
Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.
“Make room for me?”
His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.
“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.
Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.
“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”
His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”
“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.
Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.
“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.
Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”
Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.
She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.
“Can you turn over?”
Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.
“Why?”
“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”
It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.
But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.
Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.
Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”
Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.
And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.
His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.
She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.
What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.
“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”
“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”
Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.
Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”
“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”
“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.
Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.
“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”
She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”
Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.
She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.
Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.
She wanted him. She needed him.
Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.
She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”
And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.
“Because I want to see you first, princess.”
Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”
He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.
Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.
Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.
“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.
Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.
His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.
“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.
“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”
Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”
“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”
Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.
His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”
She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”
A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.
Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.
His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.
But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.
“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”
A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”
He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.
“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”
She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.
Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”
Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.
“Do you want to come, princess?”
Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
“Use your words, Y/N.”
“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.
But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.
She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”
He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”
“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”
The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.
He wasn't wearing any underwear.
The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.
Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”
For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.
Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.
Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.
“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”
She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.
“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”
With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.
He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.
Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.
“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”
His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.
A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.
She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.
They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.
Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”
“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”
Wrong words.
“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.
She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”
Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.
Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.
A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.
As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.
“Can you promise me something?”
She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”
Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”
Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.
She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”
Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.
“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”
Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.
She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.
Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.
“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”
His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.
When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.
“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”
Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…
She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.
“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”
His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”
“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”
Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.
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Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover
(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)
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sweetnans · 3 months
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"You know, for the past few days, I expected to see you sooner than later but It never came to my mind seeing you sitting here in the couch of my vacation home wearing flip flops and swimsuit briefs"
Katsuki was no fool when it came to you.
"What are you doing?" He asked, leaning with his arms into his knees.
"Washing my clothes?" You were dumbfounded by his question when he was watching you closely.
"Uh-uh no, you know what I mean"
You rolled your eyes. There wasn't really a way out of this. Bakugo had known you since you were little toddlers running in the mud and getting bruises and scratches, he knew you like the palm of his hands.
"Fine" You sat in front of him and played with your naked fingers. Yeah, you took off your engagement ring after you ran off your own wedding.
"I'm fucking listening, brat"
A man of patience.
"I didn't want to get married in the first place" you blurted out lifting a heavy weight of your chest. "I solely started to hate him in the process and I thought, hey, that's not cool"
"You sound exactly like Kirishima, disgusting" he rolled his eyes but you knew what he was doing, trying to make everything more bearable for you with his twisted and weird humor.
"I just, I love him really but it's not the quite of love when you see a person and feel all these explosions and you feel that you might be torn apart because of them, breaking down in a meltdown of hearts and flowers and-and confetti" you stuttered. "I know it's lame but, I really think that's what love should feel"
Oh, you just hit the nail. Poor him, he came all the way from Musutafu to Okuto Island to be there for his best friend but instead, he was there watching you describe all his feelings for you.
"Well if you don't feel like that when it comes to that bastard then that's it. You can force it" he shrugged.
Let's face it. He was happy to see you so chill about you splitting something that almost lasted what? four years? but, he was also happy that you didn't get married.
When you told him the news, he felt torn, but he shook the feeling right away to be by your side. When you didn't show up at the church, he couldn't help but feel the happiness rising up in his body.
It wasn't so hard to find you. The first thing that he did was use the spare key you gave him of your apartment and went through your stuff. It was classic you, always leaving tracing marks wherever you go. He found your apartment neat, so he thought that probably the fact that you ran off was something premeditated.
He found the receipts of your plane tickets when he snoop through your mail, and it clicked. He needed to see you.
"I guess you're right." You sighed and clapped your hands in your knees. You stood up to move closer to him and sit by his side. "Anyway, thanks for coming all the way here"
"Of course," he said and felt bold enough to add. "You've always been my girl, and I'll back you up any day of the week, no question asked"
"I'll pack my things so we can go back." You wiggled your toes and caught him staring at your weirdness, you let a laugh.
"Hah? Nah, that won't do. They won't give me back the days I asked to get here, " he said nonchalantly.
"Days? You mean-what? Bakugo Katsuki, are you telling me that you are willingly taking your days off? For me??" You laughed at him, but in a good way, he smirked at you, kicking your feet like a little child.
"Yeah yeah shithead, whatever, let's enjoy this little shack you got." he pressed his big ass hand in your mouth to keep your laughs quiet.
"There's only one bed, tho." You quirked a brow at him, but he just shrugged you off.
"Tch, like we never had shared a bed before," he rolled his eyes. "Now come on, I want to get in the fucking ocean and hopefully get bit by a shark so I can howitzer it to the moon"
"You're joking right now, Have you ever heard of meditation?" you stumbled through his giant feet, and he pushed you. You completely lost your balance but miraculously stayed still. "Oh fuck off you psycho"
"Ha-ha, you think you're funny, don't you?" He followed you, grabbing his suitcase to leave it in your room while you stretched yourself to get the towels.
"I am fucking funny you asshole" you poked your tongue out and threw the towels at his face.
The beach was just perfect. The sun glistening in your face, leaving you with sunkisses marks that would last for a few months, giving you the ideal tan that everyone in your agency will envy. Bakugo was at your side, skin dried after he made a run towards the ocean, trying to catch a fight with any animal or kid that would get on his way. He was resting with a magazine on his face because the sun hurt his eyes.
You took a peek at him, and the memories flooded in your brain. The first time his mom introduced you to play with the only kid that was alone. You remembered thinking how that was possible, well, after he tackled you and put your face in the ground, you knew. After that, and because you punched him in the gut, you were inseparable. You remembered you two walking to school in the morning and then studying together in your house in the afternoon. You remembered when you two got in UA and how excited he was even though he didn't demonstrate it. You remembered graduating by his side and the hangover after you went partying with your shared friends, how he took care of your drunk ass, even though he was drunk too. The nostalgia invaded you, but it felt like it was more than just that.
"You know, I know we don't say this very often," you said while taking off the magazine of his face to make him look at you, "but I love you, Katsuki."
He pretended to gag. He felt things on the pit of his stomach, and it only made it worse the fact that you, for the first time, didn't add the "as a friend" part.
"You are making me sick," he murmured, putting the magazine all over his face again to hide the redness in his cheeks.
"Say it back, you bastard," you screamed at him, tickling his ribs, which was still his weak point.
The gremlin spatted your hand away and then took both of your hands in one of his, locking them behind his head in the sand. The sudden movement made you squeak and land on his perfect and toned abs.
"You damn bastard, let me go!" You tried to release your hands from his grip, but it was useless. "At least tell me you love me too"
He loved you more than anything.
"Over my dead body." he closed his eyes and ignored you, completely zoning off your attempts to get your hands back and to avoid being laid on top of him.
"You're going to pay"
"I wanna see you try," he mocked you pinching your hips.
The thought of having other feelings for your best friend scared the shit out of you, but you knew, deep down, that maybe after seeing him caring so deeply for you, maybe just maybe, the feeling was something mutual.
Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.
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ltleflrt · 6 months
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Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol
So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.
So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.
Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.
I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.
In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.
(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)
I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.
Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.
This post is for them.
Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."
Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.
Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.
Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.
And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.
AND:
This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.
You're valid. You're one of us too.
And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)
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a-b-riddle · 4 months
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Part 8
You had planned to spend Sunday morning nursing a hangover with Mere and Tabitha, but after last night’s events you had decided to catch up on organizing the shop while putting your phone on do not disturb.
You had turned your location services off in hopes that for a few hours the world would just leave you the fuck alone.
A few hours was all you were given before a tapping came on the front door of your shop around noon. Peering through the glass window, you spotted him.
He was holding a huge brown paper bag looking at little worse for wear since the last time he showed up. You debated on ignoring him. He had missed the early morning shower otherwise you really would have left him outside.
Bastard.
"John-" When you opened the door, he entered immediately. No doubt guessing you planned to slam the door immediately after telling him to fuck off.
He would have been right.
"Please," you say flatly before closing the door. "Do come in." After last night, after this week, the last thing you wanted to do was see anybody. Him, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, fucking Meredith or Tabitha. Why was it so hard for a person who had very few people in her life, all of which were on the skirts with her, to leave her alone for a single day?
"Well?" You asked when he said nothing. He cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for a long, drawn out speech.
Instead he handed you the bag, the smell hitting you. Warm and welcoming. Price was the only one out of the four who could cook a damn good meal, which made him extra picky when it came to eating out. “Wanted to check in.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to do with them now. “Simon said you had a rough night.”
You scoffed at the understatement. "Yeah," you hated this. You didn't want to tell John about your shitty night with your even shittier friends. "It wasn't the best night out."
"So you know that bloke who got handsy or was he just some random prick?" Your mouth fell open in shock. You didn't expect Simon to be such a fucking gossip. And how fuckin' dare John for thinking he had any right to know who was grabbing your ass and your involvement to that person.
No. Fuck that.
"We're not doing this," you said putting the bag on an empty display table. Fuck. You need to go ahead and unbox that shipment in the back.
"What?" He asked, oblivious as to what he said that was wrong. You push heel of your hands into your eyes, trying to stop the headache that was threatening to form. "Some prick took a feel of ya' and I want to see if-"
"If what?" You cut in. "If I need some comfort at being utterly fucking humiliated at Simon going all caveman in front of everyone and dragging me outside like a child? Or do you want to finish want Simon start with almost killing him!"
"From what I heard, he didn't kill him," John's audacity to correct you as if Simon's restraint was remarkable baffled you. "There's something to be said about that."
"He held him by the neck in the air like a ragdoll. He choked him out in the middle of the pub."
"But," he held up a finger. "he didn't break his neck. He knew you'd be upset."
"You're not seriously defending him right now." You could feel your blood pressure rising. Your lid ready to blow like a fucking kettle.
"From what Simon said it didn't look like the attraction was mutual." That gave you pause. Simon told John it didn't look... mutual. Could Simon tell you were uncomfortable? Did he hear everything Percy said?
Where the fuck did Simon come from anyway?
why the fuck was he at the pub in the first place???
Your mouth hung open for several beats. Any longer and a bug could fly in. But fuck if it didn't feel like cold water had been dumped on you. Why and how did Simon think it wasn't mutual? Why did he care??? Why was he acting like he didn't?
"He-" You began, trying to think of what to ask only to simply screech out "What?" John held his hands up in surrender. Your kettle whistled. You were pissed. More pissed than John had ever seen you and it was still a miracle you hadn't hurled the take out at his head.
"All I'm saying is if he grabbed you without an invitation and Simon saw, the prick is lucky to be alive, much less still walking around with hands."
"Si-" you started. "He-" You clinched your fists so tightly your nails painfully cut into the palm of your hand. "UGH!" You stomped your foot. It was childish, but you didn't care. "I don't need him rescuing me goddamit! I don't need any of you pissing on my legs like a fucking dog and-" you didn't stop. You weren't sure how long you carried on verbally lashing John nor did you give a single flying fuck.
Fuck him. Fuck Simon. Fuck all of them. They didn't get to stalk you and relay information like gossiping fucking school girls. They didn't get to break your heart and believe that you would let them piece it back together. They didn't get to neglect you only to realize you knew your worth. Only giving a shit until you walked away.
You went on and on until your throat ached. You weren't sure what thoughts had left your lips. You weren't entirely sure all what you said. All you knew is that you didn't feel any better. The look on Price's fallen face didn't give you any relief. You took it out on him and you were still hurting.
"Why?" Your voice was hoarse and pleading. "Why won't you guys just fucking leave? You were barely staying in it when we were together? Why now?"
He took a tentative step forwarding. His hands started to reach out to touch your arms before falling back down at his side. He knew he had lost the right to touch you. To comfort you.
"I miss you, Dove." He confessed it as if it would somehow make it all better. "We miss you." You try not to let it phase you, but fuck you were made of flesh, not stone. No matter how angry furious disgusted absolutely devastated you were with everything that happened, with what they did and didn't do, you still, or at least had, loved them. That love didn't vanish over the span of a week. Lord know your broken heart hadn't. "We'll do better."
"It's not that simple." You shook your head, your palms covering your eyes as they began to prickle. You hoped the motion would come across as tired frustration, but John knew. It was your tell. You were close to crying. You always rubbed your face when you were upset.
"It is." He said, finally taking the chance to touch you. Even if it was just to hold your hands in his calloused ones. "We mucked things up, let us fix it. Give us at least the change to be better."
"How?" You asked. "Stop fucking yelling at me for a couple of months until something makes you blow your fucking lid and I'm left feeling like a little kid who's in trouble?" You were surprised not to see him flinch away, but the soft look in his eyes was enough to break your heart all over again. "Or Kyle actually showing up for dates? Johnny not treating me like a fuck buddy?"
"We haven't been good to you." He admits and you still don't feel better. Leaving them hasn't made you feel any better. Only angrier. Yelling at him didn't. Fucking Johnny and breaking his heart didn't. Maybe Mer had a point. Just not with Percy. "We all wanted you and slacked off in doing right by ya."
"So what?" You press. "You want to resume where we left off? I just take you all back and work through the fact of how shitty you all were and hope that you make it up to me?
"No," he shook his head. "Not like that."
"Then what?" You asked.
"I'm fighting for me and you. No one else." You didn't know what to say. The four of them had always been a part of the deal. All or nothing. I mean, the fact that you even entertained the idea of being with all of them was the reasoning that if one of them had went down on the field, three more were there to take care of you.
"If the others can get their own shit together great." He shrugged his shoulders. "If I can't and they can, that's fine too." He stared in your eyes and for a moment, you thought about the first time John apologized for getting angry. Not at you, just in front of you. How he had gotten on his knees and told you the last thing he wanted was for you to be afraid of him. To look at him the same way recruits looked at him. "But I think where we failed was all of us was expecting another one to pick up the slack."
That much was true. Where others failed, others thrived. Simon always stayed after sex, Johnny never raised his voice, John was insistent on going on dates, and Gaz was emotionally available... when he was around at least.
"I know I wasn't the man I needed to be. I wasn't the man you deserved. I took things out on you that weren't your fault. I spoke to you in a way that if any other man did, I would knock him right the fuck out." He shook his head before giving your hands a squeeze. "I'll do what I need to do to set things right between you and me. I'll put in the work to do whatever it takes to have you trust me again."
"It wasn't about not trusting you." You counter
"But it is now." He said. "You don't trust me to respect you; to show kindness, patience. And I know I have my own shit to sort out before even thinking about us being like we were. When things were good, I mean."
You don't know what to say, but you can't say he's right. You don't trust him. Not with your heart. Not anymore.
Moments of silence pass before John lets go of your hands and takes a quick survey of the boxes around you. Your background music of Van Morrison still playing softly from the speaker near your computer.
"You seem busy, so I'll let you get to it." He takes in a deep breath. You're expecting another spiel about how he promises to work on it. Just to give him a chance. You're actually worried you'll consider it. "I picked up your usual. Figured things haven't changed that much since we last went to our spot down by the river."
"Haven't been there in a minute."
"You wouldn't." He said. "Closed the place and moved shop. It's over by the park."
"The one with the asshole geese or the one where Johnny and I were flashed by that guy strung out?" That makes him laugh. You can't remember the last time John laughed. The way his eyes crinkled and his smile shifted his whole face into something entirely joyous.
You missed it.
"Asshole geese." He answered before turning and heading to the door. You didn't speak until the chime of the bell rang.
"What if the others don't?" You ask before he had the chance to close the door. "Get their shit together, I mean."
He turned, giving you that signature closed smile that makes him look like a quokka. You told him that once and he had to googling before arguing that he didn't look like the world's happiest rodent. "That's on them. I have my own work to do." His smile dropping into something softer. Something pleading and pitiful. "But, we still want this. We all still want this. Want you."
You shook your head. The threat of tears returning as you realized how wrong he was. Maybe he did. But not all of them. "Simon doesn't." you huffed, arms crossing over your chest. "He's made that much clear."
"That I don't believe." He shook his head. "Not for a minute."
"Believe it." You sucked in air through your nose as if trying to clear it. Price knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn't see you cry. He knew you wouldn't want him to even if he wanted to stay and make up for all the times he was the reasons behind your tears.
"I didn't do what I needed to and I'll do whatever it takes to get you back." He promises. "But if it came down to it... if you want to settle down and just chose one of us to have you, to keep you," he took in a deep breath. The next words like a knife twisting in his chest. "I wouldn't truly love you if I didn't tell you that Simon is the only one of us who deserves you."
"Why?" You knew in that moment Simon hadn't told John about that night. About his cruel words and your realization that he was right. There was never a true happily ever after with them.
"Because he's the only one willing to hide in the shadows and let you live your life," his smile now gone completely. "I'm sorry that I'm too selfish to do that."
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2knightt · 8 months
Note
could u write the gang (seperate) x a reader thats like. deeply and unashamedly obsessed w them
not in in a weird way but like soda makes reader a cake and theyre like “wow ur so talented u should be a baker youd be the best baker in the world everyone look at this isnt my bf such a good baker?? isnt he so cool???? arent you so jealous of me???”
or they visit the DX on steves lunch break and theyre like whats all this? and steve starts explaining the car stuff to them and theyre like “omg ur so smart ur the smartest person ever the DX is so lucky to have you <333 soda come look at steves car isnt he so good at this??? babe u should like reinvent cars youd totally do it better than washington or whatever”
or just reader holding hands and sitting on laps and kissing faces at all times basically the gang x reader thats all over them
「 i just wanna get high with my lover! 」
IN WHICH—you’re totally in love with them!♡ ໋֢ 🎞️✧
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📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡
⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ i’m Finally working on reqs. WHO CHEERED???? also new theme for fics. got bored of my old ones😜
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Dallas Winston ;
“you’re so strong, dal. you look so good when you fight, did you know that? you’re like the only person who looks that good when fighting. you’re so cool.”
“…thanks, doll.”
was SO STARTLED LMFAO
like??? he’s never been showered in compliments like this before. but he DOES welcome it
cocky bastard. you boosted his ego. it’s too high now.
“i stole this for you.”
“DALLAS! you didn’t have too, oh my god! you’re so sweet—and talented! i can’t believe you stole this—for me! i have the best boyfriend ever! i am so lucky, ain’t i?”
“yeah, i know.”
SHOWS U OFF SO MUCH. he just likes the reaction you give him when he does, honestly. like dallas LOVES hearing you ramble about him when he’s beside you.
he’s all, “yup. i AM the best boyfriend ever, dickhead.”
“this my partner.”
“mhm! dally’s the sweetest ever! he’s so nice to me, don’t you think? ugh, i love him so much. he’s the best boyfriend in the world.”
the way you look at him with lovesick eyes makes him wanna hold you forever and never let go btw.
IF YOU SIT ON HIS LAP AND DO THAT??? ohmy fod he’ll lose his fucking mind!!!
dallas winston looking up at you while you cradle him between your legs, his hands gently holding your waist while you gush over him, a small pink hue across his cheeks.
AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHH
“you’re so handsome. you’re the prettiest boy ever. i love your hair, it’s so nice. with or without the grease.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
has the most DISGUSTING and GROSS lovey dovey smile across his face has you plant kissed across his face, mumbling sweet nothings as you do so.
feels like you’re an angel when you do this after a bad day btw. loves you sososososo much he’s so down bad
Johnny Cade ;
looks up at you with the biggest puppy dogs eyes you’ve ever seen as you sit on his lap, kissing his scars. johnny’s lips would be slightly parted as he seems mesmerized with every movement you make.
WHIPPED. HE IS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. the SECOND you started gushing over, he got a small grin on his face, a sense of pride washing over him.
he, like, never knew you seen him as this magnificent being. johnny’s confidence was never great but PHEWWW you’re always there to help him!!!
“you really like my scars?”
“totally. they make you look so cute, johnny. they make you, you and that’s all i could ever ask for. you’re so cute. i love you. any person would, i’m just so glad that it’s me.”
he’d get so shy after but johnny would be walking with his chin slightly higher. ‘cause deep down he’s all, “what if they don’t actually mean it☹️?” and then you show up outta nowhere and like engulf him with a hug and he’s like “nvm…i love ‘em actually☺️.”
whenever you brag about him to people, he has to look at his feet to keep himself from smiling too much.
“and if you ever need someone to listen to you, nobody does it like johnny! he’s the best listener ever, nobody can ever compare to him. johnny’s such an angel!”
“y/n…”
he’d mumble, an embarrassed groan leaving his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a rock.
contrary to popular belief of you being more in love, he is. he swears up and down that you’re too good to him, that you’re a real doll, that he doesn’t deserve someone like you.
johnny needs someone like this in his life NOW! and if it isn’t you it’s gonna be me.
Ponyboy Curtis ;
so fucking embarrassed i’m crying.
i believe he can’t take compliments for SHIT. so being around you, he just becomes a mess. like stuttering n’ shit.
“your voice is so pretty. you read so much better than everyone else, pony. you should do it as a job—you’d totally beat everyone. it’s not like it’d ever be a competition with you there, though. you’re so cool, pony.”
“i-uhm…thank you, y/n.”
GIGGLES SOO HARD LMFAOOOO
like at night when he’s with soda, he just rambles to his older brother about what you told him. soda thinks it’s cute in the moment, but later wants ponyboy to shut up because it’s been two hours of him gushing over what you said to him.
“and then they said that i-“
“OKAY, DAMN. i have work tomorrow and you have school. ponyboy, please.”
“…okay? they said that i was the prettiest boy they’ve ever seen.”
“holy fuck.”
like he’d be ranting about some drama with the gang or some movie he’d seen, sitting on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder.
you look over to him, thinking he’s never looked more perfect. ponyboy had washed the grease out of his hair, the fluffy hair falling over his ears.
unconsciously, you tuned him out as you leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.
“what was that for?”
“you tell stories so well, pony. you’d make a great writer, did you know that? i’m so lucky to have you.”
“i-huh?”
WAHHH COMPLIMENTING PONYBOY WHILE ATTACKING HID FACE WITH KISSES AS HE GIGGLES ☹️☹️☹️
he’s so cute thay’s literally my man….!!!!
Sodapop Curtis ;
HE’S SO IN LOVE!!!!!
sitting on the counter while he cooks and you just rant about how perfect he is makes him WEAK IN THE KNEES.
“you’re such a good baker, soda. nobody does it like you do. you’re like—the best baker in the world. ain’t he, two-bit?”
“stop it, y/n..🤭🤭”
“nah, ‘m good.”
you brag about him to the girls that go to the DX to flirt with him. i can see it now.
soda’s just in the background giggling SOO HARD AND TWEAKING WITH STEVE LMFAOO
“no, he’s so sweet to me! i swear, he’s like the best boyfriend ever, did you know that? i’d be jealous if i was you, honestly.”
“TEEHEE”
“soda, shut up!”
“i’m the best boyfriend ever, steve😛.”
HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU IT’S SO CUTEEE😭😭
“you look so cute today, y/n. i got so lucky, didn’t i? had to be blessed to even have you in my life.”
FUCK i need this man at my doorstep
like imagine sitting on his lap, him staring up at you while you push back his hair with a small smile on his face. the silence between the two of you being broken by exchanged compliments.
YOU TWO MAKE EVERYONE FUCKIJG SICK I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT!!! YOU GUYS ARE SO PERFECT TOGETHER IT MAKES ME VOMIT!!!
Darry Curtis ;
tries to act cool and nonchalant when you do it, but he turns his head away to cover the huge smile that’s growing on his face.
“you’re so strong, dare! you’re the strongest person ever—you could totally take down anyone. isn’t he just the best, soda?”
“alright, that’s enough, y/n.”
“but you’re just so good to me, dare. :(.”
“sweetheart, please.”
“alright..”
“he’s smiling, y/n.”
“and blushin’…i love your brother so much.”
“everyone knows.”
AKDNSKDHEKENKDS SITTING ON HIS LAP WHILE HE SITS ON HIS CHAIR, READING THE NEWS PAPER🤭🤭
like your arms are wrapped around his neck, his arms around your waist as he reads the newspaper over your shoulder while lazily responding to your rambles.
“you look so cute with your reading glasses. you’re the most handsome boyfriend in the whole world. i’m so lucky, ain’t i?”
“you’re a real treat, y/n.”
“i love your hair, darry. you look so much better with this hairstyle than anyone else. you should be a model.”
“i’d be a terrible model, dear.”
gang is so jealous of your relationship btw. they call it bullshit that darry pulled you.
they fake gag and groan when you do this but in reality they’re like, ‘damn…when is it my turn to be happy.😒’
darry’s self esteem’s alright. it’s not the best but it’s not the worst. but you’re always there to remind him he’s absolutely perfect :).
Steve Randle ;
HE’S SOOOO WHIPPED LMFAOOOO
like i swear to god the second you went on a rant about him he was so ready to marry you right then and there.
“you’re so good when it comes to cars. honestly—you could just make your own and it’d be 100x better than whoever made them before. you’re just the best mechanic ever.”
“really? you think so? ‘cause if i were ever to i’d totally change the way they-“
and now steve’s on a 12 minute rant on how he’d change cars to rub better while you just sit there, listening to him with a smile.
YOU HAVE HIM SOOOO INSANE LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD!?? he couldn’t ask for a better partner if he tried!!!
like, i imagine steve’s always had confidence issues—being friends with soda n all don’t really help.
BUT THEN YOU CAME ALONG AND HE’S JUST VISIBLY HAPPIER😭😭.
“you’re so smart, steve. like—the smartest ever.”
“stawpp, oh my god. what else am i, though?”
“you’re cute, awfully nice, you got the prettiest eyes the world’s ever seen-“
please tell him all this while kissing him all over. he needs it so bad.
teehee lazily kissing steve randles face as the blush across his face grows from the never ending compliments that leave your lips😜
he’d totally tell you to shut up and when you don’t, he just kiss you.
AUGHHHH
Two-Bit Mathews ;
AUGH HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU !!!!
honestly—he didn’t like it at first. ‘cause deep down he was all, ‘wtf??? i’m supposed to be making them swoon n’ shit??? why am i the one giggling rn??😒😡’
but overtime he’d look forward to your silly little love drunk rambles. tell him he’s the most thoughtful boyfriend ever when he’s drunk and he might cry.
“YOU REALLY THINK THAT? BABY, STA-“
and he’s like actually sobbing while hugging you.
sitting on two-bit’s lap in the backseat of his car at the drive-in, ignoring the movie you guys came to watch because you’re both too focused on each other.
kissing every inch of his face, laughs leaving his lips as you mutter small comments about how cute his laugh is. unconsciously, his grip on your hips tightening.
FUCK i’m making myself feel lonely writing this.
every single good thing you say about him gets internalized. someone could say his hair’s dumb but then in his head he goes ‘NUH-UH! y/n said my hair is absolutely perfect😜’
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boiohboii · 6 months
Text
If she's around.
(Lando norris x leclerc!reader)
When lando decides to make a video along with two of his friends for their YouTube channel his girl of course had to make an appearance
or
In which ethan and ginge are always reminded of the fact that they are single.
Masterlist
N.b: just inspired by the new quadrant video, I loved it, obviously I have no idea if ginge or ethan are single or not, but for the purpose of this fic they don't... WARNINGS: not proof read, some swear words here and there (friends jokingly insulting each other), sexual implicantions?.... and I think that's it? If I missed anything else lmk please.
Ethan and Ginge did not think this through. They obviously got too excited about the idea and did not sit down to actually think about the consequences.
What are the consequences? That damn breakfast that Lando Norris is having them eat.
"This is criminal mate, I can see some good fucking food in there."
Ginge complained as he placed the cup underneath his nose, trying to see if the smell is as bad as the food looks.
"Ah no no, I can't give you that."
"Well, why not? It sure as hell doesn't look like you threw it up."
"That's the missus' breakfast, she'll kill me if I let you eat it."
Now, lando was just messing around. Yn was well aware of the fact that his friends were coming over and she prepared extra food in case they deviate from the video's plan.
"The missus?" Ginge asked as he took the spoon from the f1 driver "who is she? And why have I never seen her before?"
"What are you talking about, you've seen her before."
"I think I'd remember if I've seen a girlfriend of yours mate."
"You have ginge." Ethan answered as he looked at the red head "in one of the streams."
Farrowing his eyebrows ginge tried to remember, he was sure he had never seen lando with a girl before, he would definitely remember if- oh. oh. oh.
"No," ginge gasped as he looked at lando with uncertainty "no way mate. She is not your girlfriend."
"Umm, yes she is."
"No she's not."
"Yes, she is!"
"No, no she's not! She is too pretty for you."
Ethan chocked as he looked at Lando's disbelief of what his friend has said.
"Don't look at me like that! You know that she is too pretty for you"
Blinking, lando shrugged in agreement.
"Simp" ginge scoffed as he took a bite out of his breakfast.
"Well, i don't blame him man, have you seen yn."
"Looks like I will double the weights during training" lando has malice behind his smile, which made the two instantly shut up.
Interview room(ANGRYGINGE has a fear of flying)
" I'll be honest, I still believe that yn leclerc is way too pretty for lando. Like yeah sure he's an f1 driver but like aren't 2 of her brothers drivers as well. It would be so funny if they crashed into lando if he pissed her of or made her sad or something, a whole new meaning to the I will run you over threat."
"What time do you go to bed?"
"Ummm, depends."
"On?"
"If the missus is around, dirty bastard." Ginge answered "now, be honest, what time did you go to bed last night?"
"It was, um, it was early."
"You are lying through your teeth mate, I can see those dark circles."
"Hello boys."
"Dirty bastard." Ginge and ethan laughed harder at the coincidence.
"Hello love." Lando chuckled at her confused face as he pecked her forehead.
"What is going on?" Leaning onto his chest, yn looked at the two guests, wondering about their choice of words being the response to her greetings.
"Oh don't worry about it," wrapping his arm around her waist Lando rests his chin on her head " they were just asking if you being with me makes me go to bed at a later time than usual."
"Oh," yn giggled "i guess they're right? Sometimes we stay up reading a book or watching a movie, it depends on what's near us on the bedside table."
"Alright," lando started before taping yn's stomach and pointing to the firdge " you should have your breakfast and we should go back to what we were doing, yeah?"
Humming in agreement, yn turned around and leaned up to give lando a kiss on the cheek, but upon hearing ginge groan, the formula driver grabbed his girlfriend's neck from the front, redirecting her head so that their lips would meet.
"Oh come on mate, no need to rub it in!"
Being in the small makeshift home gym that lando has, the three brits started discussing what exercises they would be doing.
"First we'll start with a warm up, normally there's a few bands" looking around the room, lando tried to remember where he placed them last "they might be in our bedroom."
"How did the workout band made it into the bedroom?" Ethan asked as he started wiggling his eyebrows at ginge.
"Hey sweetheart," Lando's voice could be heard calling out "do you know where my exercise bands are?"
"They're in the bedroom," yn exclaimed "on your bedside table."
Ethan's eyebrows stopped mid movements while ginge's jaw dropped down "went to bed early lando, ehh, yeah yeah sure!"
Monitoring his friends' forms in a workout was not lando thought he would be doing on a day off where yn was with him without one of her brother's breathing down their necks. Speaking of his lovely girlfriend, lando saw her in one of his mclaren shirts and a short in the hallway, on her way to their bedroom he'd assume, with a bowl of what was either watermelons or strawberries.
"Sweetheart," lando spoke, ignoring the task at hand "can I have some please?"
"Of course mon soleil"
Entering the room, yn took a look at both boys before going straight to her boyfriend. Lando's friends were glaring daggers at him as he just placed his hand on the back of yn's hands as she placed a piece of watermelon in his mouth, making him hum pleasantly at the sweetness that filled his mouth.
"This is so unfair." Ginge complained
"I know mate, such bullshit, we should get to eat that as well."
"Yeah sure." lando agreed as yn placed another piece in his awaiting mouth.
"Well, now you're just being a dick. Come on yn, I want some as well."
"Are you asking my girl to feed you?"
"You're not letting me out of this workout anytime soon now, are you?"
"I think you should add weights onto their backs," yn stated as she smiled innocently at ginge and ethan "Charles, Arthur and Enzo always fo that to each other for the hell of it."
"Oh, you are evil miss leclerc, truly evil."
Ethan watched as lando told ginge to not lean with the weights pushing his neck, it was tough and they only had like a third of what lando usually does.
"So, who usually does this with you? Like you have to have someone to like push the weights, right?"
"Yeah yeah, usually it's my trainer, but then when something comes up or I just feel like training on my own it's yn who's helping."
"Oh look at him just rubbing it in that he has a girlfriend."
"Oh god," lando laughed in disbelief "you're the one who asked."
"The important question is," ginge started as he removed the equipment from his forehead "can yn do this? Like the neck training."
Lando stayed quite, thinking if he'd ever seen his girlfriend doing it or if her or her brothers ever mentioned that she does it. "No, I don't think so. Hold on."
Leaving the room, lando headed into the bedroom having a quick discussion away from the camera and the mics.
"So," lando said as he entered the room with yn behind him "yn will be doing the neck training, we'll go with 5 kilos."
"How about 10?" Yn asked as she took a seat on the bench
"What?"
"Well, for a while charles was convinced I'd get into a car crash and he took me training with him for like a year or something, it was insane."
"I'm sorry, what?"
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themultifanshipper · 4 months
Text
Oscar had blabbed. That’s the only explanation you could come up with at the moment, given the position you found yourself in, kneeling at your friends’ feet.
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It’s 4am, leave me alone. Inspired by these pics
Warnings: blowjobs, sex, threesome, one mention of yolo, and if you don’t like cum, probably don’t read this, it’s filthy (literally), PinV sex at the end
Alex and Logan had been eyeing you up all week. At first, they seemed to be glancing in your direction constantly, head movements catching your attention, but as soon as you’d look back at them they would avert their eyes. Then you noticed that they were staring at you for longer periods of time from across the room, seemingly unaware of what they were doing until they’d snap out of it on their own. But yesterday, that was when you saw their gazes shift into something else. Before they ranged from blank to vaguely curious, but yesterday, they looked hungry. It sent a shiver down your spine the first time. Now you just found it downright confusing, wondering what could have possessed them to start looking at you that way.
That night you were at your best pal Oscar’s place in Monaco, having just given him a congratulatory blowjob for his performance in the race (Oscar always said you were the best he’d ever known at giving head), and you decided to tell him.
“You know, Alex and Logan have been acting real weird lately” you called from the bathroom.
“Yeah? In what way?” he replied, in bed scrolling on his phone.
“Well… at first they just started staring at me, I think unconsciously, but now they’ve started looking at me like they want to eat me or something. ”
‘Shit!’ he thought. You couldn’t see him, but his eyes widened and he immediately started typing out a message to the boys: "what the fuck guys? Stop staring at her it’s weirding her out!"
“What do you mean?” he asked you, managing to keep his voice level.
“I don’t know… like- I’ve only ever seen that look when someone wants to rail me, you know? But it can’t be that, right?” You came out of the bathroom and Oscar turned his phone off a little too quickly, which confused you, but you were too tired to question it at that moment as you crawled into bed and snuggled up to him.
“Nah probably not, maybe you’re imagining things?” he tried, you didn’t bite.
“Absolutely not. We’re flying with them tomorrow, then you can see for yourself.”
The next morning when you woke up, you saw that you’d been added to a three way group chat with the two Williams drivers. You had two messages:
Alex: ‘We need to talk to you, privately”
Logan: ‘It’s nothing too serious tho dw <3’
‘Thank god for Logan’ you thought. Unbeknownst to you, they had been bickering all morning about how to broach the subject.
You would all be meeting at Nice airport to get a jet together so you didn’t have to wait too long for answers.
The four of you were alone on the jet, and when Logan got up to go to the bathroom, you glanced at him and he motioned for you to follow him.
'Okay, here we go' you thought nervously.
He closed the door behind you and you stared at him waiting for him to speak first, but he just stood there fidgeting nervously so you broke the silence.
"So what did you need to talk to me about?"
The room was relatively cramped so you were rather close, closer than you were used to, and you were able to count the freckles that dusted his face as you waited for an answer.
Instead of doing so however, he surged forward and kissed you. Which was confusing, but to be fair you weren’t going to start asking questions, as his lips were softly trailing over your jaw, making you let out a shaky breath.
“I’ve been thinking about this all week” he mumbled into your neck.
Before you even had time to form a response, the door slid open and there stood Alex, with a massive smirk on his face at the sight of you two.
“Started without me Logan? Bastard.”
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, as you stood there, half pressed against the sink by Logan’s hips, and very confused at was on earth was going on.
Alex came and pressed a light kiss to your temple before tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Are you okay with this?”
You nodded, not even sure what ‘this’ was but, yolo, as the kids say.
So he plastered his body to your side and turned your head to kiss you, as Logan started trailing downwards, taking the waistband of your joggers with him. He gasped loudly as he very quickly realized you hadn’t put any underwear on underneath. You glanced down and raised an eyebrow at him.
“What? I travel comfy!”
Logan didn’t even hear you as he was already trailing kisses all over your thighs, lifting one of them and hooking it over his shoulder. His fingers spread you as he licked a broad stripe from your perineum to your clit, making you shudder in anticipation.
Alex’s hand on your jaw brought your mouth back to his, and his other hand snuck under your top to play with your breasts, making you keen under his touch.
One of your hands was in Logan’s hair as he lapped up your juices, getting his face soaked in the process, the other was making its way into Alex’s pants to grab hold of his cock, which had been hard ever since he saw you get up to follow Logan to the bathroom.
Your movements were uncoordinated as you were getting closer to orgasm on Logan’s tongue (and fingers that had since joined the party), and when you came, Alex had to put his hand over your mouth to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from you.
Logan stood up, a fucked out expression on his face, and licked his lips before grabbing Alex by the hair and crashing their lips together, Alex groaning into his mouth at the taste of you on his tongue.
You took their distraction as an opportunity to get down on your knees and unbuckle Logan’s pants, immediately getting his cock out and licking a long stripe form base to tip.
That made him shudder and he moaned into Alex’s mouth, the two of them still going at it, so you took him deeper and deeper, alternating expertly between breathing through your nose and swallowing, and you took Alex out of his pants to start stroking him at the same pace.
It eventually got too intense for poor Logan as he grabbed your hair and pulled you off him.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come too fast if you keep going like that.”
Alex grinned at him, then down at you. “You really are the best then, yeah?”
Your brain didn’t even register the implications behind that statement as you took Alex into your mouth, down to the base in one go, as if to say ‘see for yourself’.
You alternated between the two of them, getting them to the edge before pulling off to breath properly before switching. At some point they had started kissing again, groaning into each other’s mouths and running their hands through each other’s hair.
Then, without warning, the door opened and there stood Oscar, smug as anything.
“Well well well, what’s all this then?”
The image of George briefly flashed in your collective minds.
You pulled off with an obscene pop and looked up at the other two boys.
What sight the three of you made, you on the floor with tears running down your cheeks, Alex and Logan flushed and messy, hair sticking up and looking fucked out, with their cocks out.
That’s when it all clicked. The looks, Oscar’s avoidance, this whole mess in the bathroom.
Oscar must have blabbed about your activities to them.
You turned to the man in question.
“Did you plan this?!”
He laughed. “No one could have planned this. But I did mention to them how good you are for me, and I’m certainly enjoying the show. Do carry on, that looks painful.” he said, gesturing to where Alex and Logan were still hard, and leaking all over themselves. You looked at them in disbelief.
“Are you enjoying this? Being watched by your best friend while you’re getting sucked off?”
They had the audacity to look bashful, and it also kind of did it for you. So you slowly took Logan back into your mouth and Alex in your hand and they groaned in unison. You savoured every second of it, even the sound of Oscar’s breath hitching as he inevitably started touching himself in time with your pace, made you wet.
As the three men got closer, their noises got louder and Alex asked “Where?”
Oscar answered for you. “If you ask nicely she’ll let you come anywhere you want”
The two others groaned and quickly rushed out “Can I come on your tits?” and “On your face, please?”
You nodded at them, and they started jerked off hard and fast, aiming at your face and breasts as you closed your eyes and stuck your tongue out. Alex came a couple of seconds before Logan, painting your face in streaks of white, most of it landing on your tongue, then you felt another load land on your chest as Logan whined out his orgasm.
As Logan caught his breath, Alex pulled you to your feet and kissed you sweetly as a thank you, before he leaned down and started working his tongue over where Logan’s cum streaked your skin, making you gasp. Then Logan came closer and started licking Alex’s cum off your face. It was hands down the weirdest situation you’d ever been in, but it was hot as fuck. That was made obvious by how Oscar groaned behind you, still working over his cock at a leisurely pace.
“What a sight you three make. If Lando were here he would cream his pants…”
You huffed “I’m sure he would, but you’re certainly not going to tell him about this, right?”
His eyes twinkled “We’re meeting him for lunch tomorrow in Montreal.”
The other two finished cleaning you up and got you (and themselves) dressed again, kissed you one last time, Logan giving you a quick tap on the ass, before leaving you and Oscar alone.
“You mind getting on your knees one last time for me, baby?”
“Anything for you, Osc” You smiled, but before you could move, he grabbed your arm.
“Actually… I want to make you feel good too.” He glanced at the mirror. “Stand in front of the sink, hands on the mirror.”
You obliged, planting yourself firmly before he pulled down your pants, already having noticed your lack of underwear earlier, and pushed a couple of fingers into you.
“God, baby, you’re dripping.”
“I know that, just get your dick in me!”
He chuckled and lined himself up, bottoming out in one go.
“Fuck- so warm and tight, just for me” he groaned and kissed your neck before grabbing your hips tight, and pounding into you.
The angle made it so that he hit your g spot on every thrust, getting you close to the edge in record time, your loud moans spurring him on to go harder.
You came together, panting and coming down from your highs with him wrapped around you, breathing into your neck.
Logan and Alex were in the cabin, listening to yours and Oscar’s needy moans as they squirmed in their seats. They were wondering if maybe next time, Oscar would let them fuck you.
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orangeheliophile · 19 days
Text
"Peaches."
(Bakugou x reader)
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Warnings: cursing.
Fluff, established relationship, second year! Ua students. Reader calls Bakugou 'Kacchan.' Reader is a bit silly, and Bakugou is utterly in love with his adorable creature.
What happens when your boyfriend starts calling you a nickname after finding you devouring your favorite fruit?
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Katsuki has never felt so much cute aggression in his life. And it's all your fault.
Of course, you were the most precious thing on this earth. There is no doubt about that. Your big eyes that look at him with love are absolutely gorgeous. The way your nose scrunches when you try not to sneeze or when you ramble about your day. And whenever you show him that smile, he melts on the spot.
But one day, when he gets back from patrol, he is absolutely baffled to see you like this.
You're eating peaches. While wearing fuzzy pink, Hello Kitty pajama pants. And you're wearing one of his skull shirts. His skull shirt. And it doesn't help that you have the most adorable expression on your face while having your mouth slightly covered in peach juice.
How dare you be so loveable?
He smiles to himself, leaning against a wall in the common room as he watches you munch on the tasty fruit. His arms cross, feeling his heart thumping as he coos when your cheeks look like a chipmunk from stuffing your face with the fruit.
He doesn't dare ruin the moment, chuckling and grinning when he sees you pour honey onto the bowl of peaches. You smile to yourself, kicking your feet in joy as you're completely oblivious to your boyfriend admiring you from afar.
He can't help it, putting a hand over his smile as he gushes over your cuteness. You have a content expression on your face, cheeks full of honeyed peaches as you waddle slightly side to side while sitting on the couch. You lean back, holding the fruit bowl in your hands as you dance happily in peace.
His cheeks start to hurt from smiling too much. You look absolutely ethereal. The sun shines from the windows onto you, providing a soft golden aura. You seem at peace. Something that you hadn't felt since after the war.
You're about to take another big bite of the fruit, your eyes wandering around as you freeze in horror when your gaze meets his. And the bastard chuckles when you do.
He thinks you look adorable, eyes wide, and your jaw dropped as your hand holds the peach in front of your mouth, about to take a bite before you saw him stalking admiring you.
You tense, feeling embarrassed as heat creeps up your cheeks and you gulp. The boy smiles playfully, tilting his head to the side as his smile turns into a small smirk. You clear your throat, turning your head away as your free hand rubs the back of your neck.
"How long have you been watching?..."
"That's not important. What's important is that how cute you fucking look right now."
He teases. Blush rushes to your face, hanging your head low as he chuckles and walks towards you. Yeah, dying feels nice right now. You think.
Katsuki flops down onto the couch, his beefy arm wrapping around your shoulders as he cheekily pulls you closer to him before you can squirm away. You squeak, feeling shy, awkward, and embarrassed as he smirks and props his feet up on the comfortable couch. "Oh, c'mon, peach. Don't get shy on me now."
Wait, what? What did he just call you?
You huff, turning your head away as you pout and lean away from him. The blonde laughs at this, grinning slyly as his arm slides down to your waist and squeezes your hand a bit with his hand, rubbing circles slightly on your exposed skin.
The action makes your heart flutter. Not only did he catch you. He made you feel embarrassed and awkward. The nerve of the handsome stupid bastard. "Don't call me that." You huff, crossing your arms.
The blonde raises his eyebrow, chuckling as he dips his head into your collarbone and flops down on top of you. Making you fall onto the couch. With his stupid heavy muscles crushing you. And his caramel and toasted coconut scent filling your nose. The nerve.
"Hey! You're crushing me!" You groan. Katsuki snickers, squeezing himself underneath your croosed arms as he wraps his own around you and gives sloppy kisses onto your neck and collarbone. You squeal dramatically, lazily trying to slap him away as he entangled his legs with yours and snuggles into you.
"Deal with it, peaches. I'm not going anywhere for a good fucking days."
You whine at his words, acting dramatic as he merely laughs and wiggles his way up, taking the air out of your lungs as he squishes his cheek against yours, nuzzling your faces together. You deadpan. Not only is he suffocating you, but he's trying to act cute. And it's working. Why is it working? Oh, right. You love him or whatever.
"Why must you call me peaches?" You ask, dread in your voice as you regret your recent life choices. The blonde snickers at your misery, stuffing his face into your chest as he speaks in a muffled tone into your chest. You sigh, shaking your head as you gently tug his hair up so you can see his face.
He smiles slyly, chuckling as he raises his eyebrow in amusement and leans forward. You smile a bit, thinking he's going to kiss you, but no. He bites your cheek instead. The cannibal of a boyfriend.
You yelp, surprised by the sudden action as your hand is trying to push his face away. Katsuki grunts, grabbing your wrist as he places it on his cheek so you can caress his face. Your eye twitches as you slap his forehead lightly while he frowns at your action.
"The fuck? You're supposed to be loving me, not doing this shit." He barks, huffing as he nips your nose. You pout, and unknown to you, his heart swells at your adorable face. "And what are you doing, huh?" You accuse. He scoffs dramatically, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disapproval before biting your cheek again. "I'm showing you my love, dummy."
This time, it's your turn to scoff dramatically. He grunts at your scoff, disapproving your disapproval as he grabs your wrists and places one of them in his hair and the other on his shoulder blade. You squint, staring him down as you debate if you should give him head scratches and back rubs. He stares at you, waiting for you to do what he wants as he bites your cheek again.
His nose presses against the side of your eye as his teeth stay on your skin as you both look at each other dead in the eye. He blinks once. You blink back twice. He grunts, you huff in annoyance. He scrunches his nose in disbelief. You raise your eyebrows as a yes.
He can't believe you just refused to give him affection.
This earns a scowl from the boy lying on top of you. So he does the next best thing, attacking you with his love. Until you die. Of how much you love him.
He smashes his lips onto yours, blowing raspberries onto your mouth as you squeal and squirm. He wraps his arms around you tightly, straddling your hips as he squishes you tightly against him. You slap his chest and stomach, putting no effort into actually hurting him. How annoying.
He pulls away, catching his breath as he smirks at your angry adorable pout. You're too cute. He wants to just eat you up. Hands cupping his cheeks, you lift them, squishing them as he grins and nuzzles into your touch. You sigh and shake your head, not knowing what you did to deserve him as you wish you could return him to his mother. And as if Katsuki could read your thoughts, (He does. He knows you better than you do yourself.) He snickers.
"Aww, don't be mad, peaches. You're stuck with my ass forever. So get used to it." He muffles, attempting to speak while kissing your palms. You groan, letting his face go as he falls onto your chest with a soft thump. The nickname is silly. But it makes your heart flutter for some reason.
"Do you really have to call me that, Kacchan?" You deadpan, hands flopping to your side as he snuggles himself into you. He glances at you, a small but genuine smile appearing as he wraps his arms around you and laces his fingers with yours. "Of course I do. You're my fucking princess."
Ah, now you remember why you choose to love him.
Your heart melts, face softening as you smile back at him while feeling your face heat up. You sigh, giving in as your hand wanders to his fluffy spiky hair and plays with it, the other one holding his hand tightly. He hums in content, wrapping his arm around you as he shuffles closer to your face and kisses you softly.
You grin, melting into the kiss as the blonde drinks your smile while resting his forehead against yours. He pulls away moments later, opening his eyes as he nuzzles his nose against yours. Cherry red eyes gaze into your mesmerizing ones, as his pupils dilate, and he whispers affectionately to you.
"My adorable creature."
You whine. And there it is. Must he ruin the moment? You kiss and cuddle him more, anyway. And he dies from cute aggression.
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I'm happy with this one :)
Tell me if you have any requests, by the way!
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pucksandpower · 10 months
Note
Hey Natalia, hope you’re doing good ❤️ Please could I request enemies to lovers with Max. You’re constantly at each other’s throats in front of everyone and Christian has had enough of your shit and demands to see you in the office. But when you continue to fight, he’s like nah I don’t wanna be involved, sort your shit out together and leaves. And you end up fucking on his desk and after you’re suddenly super friendly around eachother. Thank you lovely! xxx
Whiplash
Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader
Summary: You and Max discover that there is a thin line between lust and hate
Warnings: 18+ content
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You storm into Christian’s office, scowling as Max follows right behind you. He slams the door shut and you both take a seat across from Christian, refusing to even look at each other.
“I’m sure you both know why I called you in here,” Christian says sternly. “The tension between you two has gone too far. It’s affecting the team and we can’t have that.”
You scoff and cross your arms. “Why don’t you talk to him about it then? I’m not the problem here.”
Max scowls. “Oh please, don’t pretend like you’re so innocent. You’ve been nothing but hostile towards me since the start of the season.”
“Only because you did the same!” You retort. “I was nothing but nice when I first joined the team. You’re the one with the attitude problem.”
“Enough!” Christian shouts, silencing you both. “I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it. We’re in the middle of a championship fight and I need my drivers to work together, not against each other.”
You sink lower in your chair, still refusing to look at Max. The animosity radiates off of him in waves.
“Now you’re going to stay in here until you work this out,” Christian says firmly. “I don’t care if it takes all night. Fix this mess or both of your seats are on the line.”
He heads for the door and you spring up from your chair. “You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly,” Christian replies before shutting the door. You hear the lock click into place from the outside.
You jiggle the handle and pound on the door. “Let us out!”
No response.
He’s really done it, that bastard. Locked you in a room alone with your most hated rival.
You take a deep breath before turning around. Max sits there glaring at you, jaw clenched. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters.
“For once we agree on something,” you snap.
His glare hardens. “Don’t pretend you’re blameless. You’ve been nasty since you got here.”
You storm over to him. “Because you decided to hate me from day one! I tried to be nice but you were so damn hostile. What’s your problem with me anyway?”
Max stands up abruptly, getting in your face. “My problem is you waltzing in here like you own the place when I’m the number one driver.”
You shove him in the chest. “Get over yourself! I earned my spot here.”
He shoves you back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”
Your blood boils as you stare him down. God he’s infuriating. And stubborn as hell. You doubt you’ll ever get him to admit any fault in this situation.
“Well I’m not going anywhere so I guess you’ll just have to get used to it,” you snap.
Max steps even closer, eyes blazing. Your noses nearly touch from how close he stands. “Is that so?” His voice comes out low, almost husky.
A shiver runs down your spine but you keep glaring at him. “Yeah, that’s so.”
You expect him to shoot back some nasty retort. Instead his eyes flick down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your heated gaze again.
Suddenly the energy shifts between you. The anger and tension remains but it transforms into something more primal. More dangerous.
Your breaths come heavier as electricity crackles in the nonexistent space left between you. Max’s pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as your own.
“I ...” Your voice comes out hoarse. “We should ...”
But neither of you make any move to step away. Without thinking your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips. Max tracks the movement with his intense stare.
“Fuck it,” he growls before crashing his mouth onto yours.
You gasp into the kiss and he takes advantage, deepening it. His hands grasp your hips roughly as he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.
You barely process what’s happening. One second you were at each other’s throats, the next his body is pressing urgently against yours.
A moan escapes you when his lips move to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin there and you thread your fingers into his hair.
“This is insane,” you pant out even as you tug him closer.
“I know,” Max breathes against your neck. His hands skim up your sides, pushing up your shirt. “I hate you.”
“I hate you more.” You crash your lips together again, tasting blood when you nip at him.
Max groans into your mouth as your tongues slide together. He hitches one of your legs around his hip, grinding against you.
You break the kiss to tip your head back, moaning at the feeling. Fuck, you despise this man, but right now you need him more than anything.
His hips keep up that delicious friction as he mouths at your collarbone. “I’m still going to beat you,” he rasps out.
You smirk, nails digging into his shoulders. “In your dreams.”
Max’s eyes darken at your taunt. Without warning, he grips your thighs and lifts you onto Christian’s desk. You gasp as he pushes between your legs, his growing arousal obvious.
“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before crushing his mouth to yours once more.
You moan into the frenzied kiss, tongues tangling as you tug at his hair. His hands slide up your thighs, fumbling with the button of your jeans to push them down around your ankles. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him against your heated core.
Even through the layers of clothing you can feel how hard he is. You rock your hips, desperate for more friction. Max groans and moves his lips to your neck, nipping down to your collarbone.
Your head tips back as his fingers dance up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “God, I hate you so much,” you moan.
“I know.” His voice comes out rough, filled with lust.
Impatient, you reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside. Your eyes rake over his muscular chest and arms. Unable to resist, you lean in and scrape your teeth over his nipple.
Max hisses in a breath, hands clenching on your hips. “Fuck ...”
You grin, laving your tongue over the sensitive nub as your fingers move to his belt buckle. With shaky hands you get it open and reach into his boxers, fingers wrapping around his thick length.
He shudders against you. “Shit, Y/N ...”
You stroke him firmly, reveling in the moans and curses falling from his lips. His own hands move under your shirt, palming your breasts through your bra.
It’s not enough. You strip off your shirt and reach back to unclasp your bra. Max wastes no time dipping his head to capture one of your nipples between his lips.
“Oh god ...” you gasp, back arching into him. His teeth and tongue work over your sensitive peaks until you’re writhing beneath him.
The sound of voices outside the door makes you both freeze. Fuck. The race weekend is still going on around you. Anyone could walk by and hear what’s happening.
You meet Max’s heated gaze. “We should stop,” you pant out half-heartedly.
His eyes blaze with defiance and lust. “No fucking way.”
Before you can react he drops to his knees, grasping your hips to pull you towards the edge of the desk.
Max tugs strongly on your lacy underwear until it gives way at the seams, baring you to him. He pauses to appreciate the view, eyes roaming hungrily over your glistening folds.
“I’m still going to beat you tomorrow,” he rasps.
You tug on his hair impatiently. “Just get on with it before we get caught.”
With a wicked grin he dives in, mouth latching onto your throbbing clit. You cry out, quickly slapping a hand over your own mouth.
You fumble with his belt, desperate to feel him. Max groans as you wrap your hand around his length.
“Fuck, just like that,” he groans against your skin, increasing the rhythm of his tongue in response. The desk rocks dangerously beneath you but neither of you slow your ministrations.
You whimper his name, pleasure building steadily under his expert touch. The fingers of one hand twist in his hair while you keep your other hand moving up and down in measured strokes as you near the edge.
“Look at me,” Max commands raggedly. You open your eyes to meet his wild gaze. The connection between you crackles.
“Max ...” you gasp as your climax crashes over you. You slap a hand over your lips, muffling your cries.
As you float back down, Max withdraws his mouth. You keen at the loss but then he’s lining himself up at your entrance. Gripping your hip tightly, he pushes inside in one smooth motion.
You cling to his shoulders, nails digging in as you adjust around him. Max trembles with restraint, giving you a moment before he starts to move.
Then he sets a relentless pace, the desk slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips. You wrap your legs around him, spurring him even deeper.
Max pounds into you relentlessly, wrenching desperate moans from your lips. You’re vaguely aware of picture frames and papers tumbling to the floor around you but the chaos only adds to the thrill.
You’re close, the pressure building deep inside. With a few more well-angled thrusts you topple over the edge, coming hard around him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches sharply off the desk.
“There you go, princess,” Max rasps. He continues driving into your spasming center until his rhythm turns choppy and erratic.
“Fuck, I’m close,” Max grits out. You clench around him, greedy for his release. His hips stutter and then he spills inside you with a guttural groan. The sensation pushes you over the edge again, your vision whiting out from the intensity.
Breathing raggedly, Max collapses on top of you, pinning you to the desk. You’re both slick with sweat and utterly spent, your heart rates slowly returning to normal. You run your fingers through his damp waves soothingly.
The room is silent save for your heavy breathing. As the haze of lust clears, the ramifications of what just happened settle over you.
You just slept with your sworn rival on your team principal’s desk.
After a long moment Max pulls out of you and steps back, tucking himself away. On shaky legs you slide off the desk, stumbling slightly as you find your feet, and rush to put on your clothes.
Max grabs his shirt off the floor and shrugs back into it. His hair is mussed wildly and his lips are kiss-swollen. You’re sure you look much the same.
You and Max spring apart at the sound of the lock clicking open. Christian strides back into his office, oblivious to the disheveled state that both of his drivers are in.
“Well, have you two worked out your differences?” He looks between you expectantly.
You smooth down your rumpled shirt and attempt to tuck your wild hair back into place. Your cheeks flame as you meet Christian’s gaze.
“I think we’ve come to an ... understanding,” Max says evenly, though you notice a hint of color in his cheeks as well.
Christian surveys his office, taking in the askew trophies and books scattered across the floor. You hold your breath, certain he’s going to put two and two together.
“It seems you had a disagreement about reorganizing my office during your chat,” Christian says wryly.
You nearly choke in surprise. Does he really not realize what just transpired on his desk? You chance a glance at Max and have to suppress a hysterical giggle at the disbelief on his face.
“I apologize for the mess, we got a bit ... heated,” you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the double meaning.
“Yes, clearly things escalated between you two.” Christian frowns at a photo of him and Dietrich Mateschitz now lying cracked on the floor. You resist the urge to shrink under his disappointed dad stare.
“However, the important thing is you’ve worked through this animosity once and for all, correct?” He looks between you expectantly.
You and Max nod in unison. “Water under the bridge,” Max assures him. You’re impressed by how steady he manages to keep his voice even as you can see the barely contained mirth dancing in his eyes.
“Excellent. I’ll inform the team that tensions are resolved and they can stop walking on eggshells around the both of you.” Christian claps his hands together, apparently satisfied. “Now get out of here and get ready for free practice.”
You and Max don’t need telling twice. As soon as the door shuts behind you, the laughter you’ve been holding in bubbles out.
“I can’t believe he actually bought that,” Max says between chuckles.
“We literally destroyed his office and he thinks we just had a minor spat,” you giggle, shaking your head incredulously.
Your laughter trails off as the reality of what happened sinks in. You just had crazy hot sex with Max Verstappen. Where do you go from here?
Before you can overthink it, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Meet me at the hotel tonight? We should continue this conversation somewhere more private,” he murmurs suggestively.
You bite your lip but find yourself nodding. As complicated and ill-advised as this may be, you can’t find it in yourself to deny your attraction to Max now that you’ve given in to it.
“It’s a date,” you whisper back.
Max grins and steals another quick kiss before you part ways to get changed.
2K notes · View notes
bi-writes · 7 months
Text
bestfriend!roommate!simon leaves on an assignment, but he needs your help first. (18+)
more bff!roommate!simon (part 9/?)
cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, simon has thicc thighs, lap sitting, fem+m!receiving touching, thigh riding because i cant resist, soft!dom!simon, praise kink, size kink (reader described to be moved/handled easily by him), the mask doesn't come off, simon is a cocky bastard, a lotta angst
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"simon, if you keep moving, i won't be able to finish, quit squirming."
"sorry, luv--afraid you'll prick me with that bloody thing."
you stuck your tongue out at him for a moment before setting back against his thighs. you sat so nicely there, your ass perched on the thick muscle as you worked. you had your tongue between your teeth as you concentrated.
your fingers held a thick needle, weaving it through the fabric of simon's balaclava and the plastic skull plate. he had ruined another piece; he had come home after his last deployment with the skull plate in pieces. he did not explain what had happened to it; you only tried to ignore the streaks of red along the face of it when you watched him throw it away.
you saw him sitting on the couch, trying to sew it together, but his big fingers made it a little difficult; you sweetly asked if you could help. a big plus--you got to sit in simon's lap and bask in the heat of him.
you adjusted, moving around until you were straddling his wide hips. you had to spread your own to accommodate his size, sitting up high to be able to reach the top of his head, weaving the thread through to tie the plastic to the fabric.
"bloody tits are in m'face, luv."
"yeah? never heard a man complain about that before," you laughed lowly. he grunted in response, a gloved hand wrapping around your waist to hold you steady. "what? you don't like 'em?"
he clicked his tongue, shaking his head, and you laughed again, continuing to sew the plastic to the fabric.
"you're gonna look so scary," you smiled wide. "you like looking scary on the field?"
"keeps the little ones at bay."
"everyone's little to you, simon."
"aye."
you snorted, settling in his lap as you were almost finished sewing the mask. you tied off the thick thread when you were finished, using some scissors to cut the excess fabric. you met his eyes as you sat there, and you smiled at him; maybe he did look intimidating, but all you could think about was how those pretty eyes sparkled last night when he came into your hand and how much you were going to miss that look when he was gone.
"the paint, simon?"
he held up a small jar in one hand, and you took a brush from the coffee table and began to draw lines down the face of the mask. you passed over his dark eyes, winking at him playfully before doing the same line on the other half of the mask. you put the brush down, dipping the tip of your manicured finger in it and then starting to draw the lines down where the mouth of his face would be.
you could feel his warm breath against your finger, and you cupped his cheek with your other hand, holding him firm as you drew along the mask.
"i'm going to miss you, simon," you whispered, swallowing hard. you avoided his eyes, focusing on drawing along the cloth. you let out a shaky breath. "i-i mean...i always miss you, but now you're gonna be gone and...whenever you go, you go for a long time, and--"
simon squeezed your waist gently, quieting you. your bottom lip trembled a little, and you looked down, away from him.
"i-i'm sorry. i don't mean to get upset. it's stupid."
stupid. there was nothing stupid about being vulnerable. nothing stupid about baring yourself, being naked to someone in more ways than just the physical. the sex was easy together; it was everything else that simon fought with. feeling. being. loving. the mundane of that love, like coming home.
and coming home was not easy.
"'s not stupid, luv. i know i leave y'here. i know," he shook his head. "i don't do it on purpose, y'know that."
you nodded, "yes, yeah...i know. it's your job. and you're good at your job, and you made a commitment to your team, and they rely on you like you rely on them--i-i know the reasons." you smiled sadly. "i know. i just miss you...that's all."
there was an itch in the back of your head, a hoarseness lodged in your throat--sometimes you wanted to just keep talking, because forbid this be the last time i say it to you.
he hummed lowly, sliding his hands down low and cupping both sides of your ass, bringing you close. you wipe your hands off of the paint, sighing deeply, relaxing as simon leaned back against the couch and held you near. your hands circled around his neck, hugging him back as you breathed in each other--your scent, the sounds of your breath, the feel of each other's warmth.
you cleared your throat, smoothing your hands down simon's cheeks.
"let me get you geared up, yeah?"
you didn't wait for simon to answer. you picked yourself up off his lap, going to where he had his things laid out. you picked up his tactical vest, holsters, his skull-painted gloves, and you brought them back to the couch. simon sat up as you draped the vest over his head, fitting it over his shoulders. you untucked the hood of his jacket from under the vest, making sure it sat right before fastening the straps and making sure it was secure. you tugged on the straps just to make sure, your eyes skimming over the British flag on his chest and the prominent letters spelling SAS.
you busied yourself with switching out his gloves now, replacing the plain black ones with the painted-skull bone gloves. you didn't react to the calloused fingertips or the jagged scars along his hands. simon was so beautiful--every part of him was.
"i'm really proud of you, simon," you said softly. he hummed lowly but said nothing. you kissed his cheek gently, trying to meet his eyes and smile at him. "have i ever told you that?" simon shook his head, his eyes raising to stare intensely right into yours. you bit your lip. "well, i am. proud. you've come so far. they would be proud, too."
you didn't have to specify who they were. simon didn't flinch, but his eyes flickered.
you reached for one of the thigh holsters, sitting back and motioning for him to stand. when he did, you tried not to think about how much simon towered over you like this. he was taller than you, so much broader, taking up so much of your space. you reached up and started to fasten the holsters around his thigh, your fingers skimming the taut muscle there as you buckle it around him. you didn't comment on the fact that you nearly had to loosen the strap all the way just to fit around the thick of him.
you reached for the other holster, fastening it around his other thigh and looking up at him after you had finished. fuck, he looked good like this. he looked so much bigger--the width of him was greater, with you seated, you had to bend your neck back far, and having his back to the window cast low shadows over his face, darkening his gaze and giving him an eerie backlight. but you would never be afraid of simon--even all dressed up.
your lips part gently when his gloved hand cups just under your chin. you mewled lowly, looking up at him with those big eyes and a soft voice. simon knelt down suddenly, widening his thighs to cage you in on the couch and keeping a gentle hold of your chin.
"'m gonna be back before you know it, luv. sittin' right there--" he tilted his head to the spot to your left, "--y'know that, right?"
you broke out into a soft smile, bouncing a little as you nodded your head. simon clenched his jaw under the mask--fuck, you were so cute, so fucking sweet. there was nothing more comforting than knowing you were waiting for him when he came back--that you would be sitting here just like this, with this little smile on your face, your eyes so wide and pretty.
"i know," you whispered. you leaned over, smoothing your hands over the front of his vest before absentmindedly playing with the straps of it. "i know, simon. still going to miss you."
you don't meet his eyes. it was hard; simon was an important part of your life. any time you lived in his absence, it was lonely. now that you lived together, it felt that much lonelier--there was a room cold and unoccupied, an empty seat at the table, a spot on the couch without him in it. his voice soothed no nightmares and his warmth took away none of your shivering. you never told him that when you called; you only spoke of the meal you had cooked that you told him he would like and the annoying step at the entrance that the landlord still hadn't come to mend.
"c'mere."
simon smoothed his gloved hand down your chin, wrapping his fingers delicately around your throat. with a firm grip, he guided you into his lap as he sat back against the couch again, your body easily settling between his thighs again. your face relaxed, cheek smushed against his shoulder as you pressed your lips to the fabric over his neck. you sighed deeply, legs resting on either side of one of his thighs.
your head tilted back, your eyes peeking up to look at him. he moved his own head to the side, and beneath the skull, you could see those pretty dark eyes--beautiful, undeniable need in them. simon was terrible at hiding what he felt behind his eyes--they were warm, and his pupils were dilated, and you wondered if he saw the same pretty things in you that you saw in him.
your eyes fluttered when you felt one hand slide down the length of your spine. a warm, gentle hand, smoothing along the back of your shirt before cupping one side of your ass. you whined, a soft little sound escaping as you jumped slightly. your legs squeezed around his thigh, and you let out a gasp at the gentle grind. you reached up and cupped one side of his face at the first trace of pleasure, your lips pressing to the other side of it as he encouraged you to do it again.
you did. following his guiding hand, you dragged your hips up again, a strangled moan leaving you as you grind against his thigh. but it wasn't enough--as you moved, you whimpered against simon's face, letting out hot breaths of frustration. your jeans were too much of a barrier, not allowing for enough stimulation, and you felt pathetic when you heard simon's low chuckle.
"awww, sweetheart...look at ya..." he reached up with one paw of a hand and tangled a gloved hand into your hair, tugging on it firmly. he grunted as he watched your mouth fall open, slack jawed, drooling a little as you squeezed your thighs around his own. "look at tha'face. fuckin' beautiful, innit? that face you make when you want your cunny all nice and wet...when you want it pet..."
you cried out at that, nuzzling your face into his mask, kissing at the fabric and licking over the strong line of his jaw and hoping to god that he would have mercy on his pretty little roommate. that he would have mercy on her pretty face, on his name tumbling out of her mouth, on the way she grinded on his thigh like a lovesick bunny in heat.
"sound pathetic, luv..." he gripped the back of your neck, holding you at a distance now. he gripped the front of your jeans roughly, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. "now be a good puppy and take 'em off."
you shimmied out of your jeans, slipping them down your legs and kicking out of them. you were about to slip your panties off, pretty pink lace that hugged your ass so cute, but simon stopped you, forcing you back down to straddle his thigh.
"i like these," he murmured. "want them on."
you smiled, putting both hands on his vest. you gripped it tight, as tight as you could handle kevlar and bulletproof material, and then you nuzzled your face into mouth of his mask and began to ride his thigh. you were shaking. the straps of his holster were catching on your clit, and your hands were growing clammy as you tried to hold onto him for stability. you wanted to be good. you wanted to show simon how good you could be, how if he just unzipped his cargo pants and dropped them low enough, you could ride his cock so good, he'd see the fucking stars.
you hitched yourself higher on his leg, your thighs squeezing around the meat of his thigh, and he grunted lowly when your knee met his crotch. as you bounced, you rubbed up against him, and you squeaked when his gloved hand gripped your hair roughly, forcing your lips against the front of his mask. your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, a choked moan leaving you, and you kept going. you needed to show him, he needed to know--he needed to know that you wanted him, that you wanted this.
you let one hand drop, fall from his vest, and he growled out a string of angry curses when that soft hand gripped his cock through his pants. it was rough, a little aggressive, and you met his eyes easily.
"i want it--i-i want it--!" you cried. "i w-want more--"
he chuckled, and you felt tears prickling the edges of your big eyes as he laughed. your heart ached because you knew he was laughing at you. you sounded broken. you sounded lost. you sounded pathetic, but you couldn't care, you just couldn't bring yourself to. you needed more with simon.
you were tired of the in-between. you were sick of what if, when, the maybes that surrounded the unspoken thing between you. every grind of your hips, every drop of your slick that dampened his pants, all of it was just something in you screaming what are we?
he called your name, and you wanted to care about what he thought, but you needed him to know. you slipped your arms around his neck, moving until you straddled his hips, pressing your cunt right over the hardness stuck in his zipper and continuing your desperate pace.
you were going to make him understand this feeling inside. the gnawing in your chest--the thing that wanted to be outside so bad, it would claw its way out, it would force its fingers through your throat until simon could see that this wasn't a mistake.
this wasn't forgotten moments that lingered after dark. this wasn't the inevitable of a man and a woman who lived together. this was the catalyst of a bond too strong. two things, unable to be taken apart, to be reduced to separate things. there was not a simon riley without you, and there was no you without simon riley, and if he couldn't understand that, you didn't think you would survive the homecoming.
so you were going to fuck simon riley until he understood the knot was tight, and it would never unravel.
"kitty, wait--"
but he couldn't stop you. you swallowed his words, moaning desperately against the mask, your hips chasing the warm buzz that was creeping up your chest and down your thighs, your toes clenching as you notched the tip of his cock right up against your clit and fucked yourself harder against the smooth fabric of his pants.
"kitty--fuckin' christ--"
you sobbed, squeezing the back of his neck as you soaked his pants. your hips stuttered, small little circles that you made as you tried to ride out the trickle of warmth that was covering you like a comforting, pleasurable wave. your body relaxed, and you sucked on his jaw through the mask, tasting the musk and cigarette smoke that lingered there.
"simon--p-please--"
he grunted, pressing on the back of your head to tuck your face into his neck. you sniffled, moody and emotional from coming so hard, and you shook your head.
"y'r not ready for it. not time yet."
"i am," you sounded like such a baby. a cock-drunk pretty little roommate that needed something so desperately, she was so scared of what she might do to have it. to have him. "i am, please--"
"luv--"
"it's not fair," you gasped, pulling back from him. you stared up at him, and he hummed lowly, reaching up to wipe the tears that gathered under your eyes. "it's not fair, why--why can't i--?"
he tsked, clicking his tongue as he got to his feet, and your eyes lowered as he cursed under his breath, adjusting his pants, and you felt a sliver of victory as you realize that you made simon cum in his pants like a teenager.
"i w-won't wait forever."
the air in the room changed immediately. it came out of your mouth faster than you could stop it, and you tensed against the couch as his head turned, snapping to look at you.
"wot? wot did y'just say?"
"nothing."
"look at me."
you grit your teeth as he leaned down and knocked you under the chin, forcing your head to tilt back.
"wot did you just say?"
"nothing," you repeated, firmer this time. his eyes narrowed, two black, dull eyes staring down at you. his gaze was intense, and it was meant to scare you, but simon could never scare you. deep down, you knew he would never hurt you, at least not physically.
emotionally, simon had your heart in his hands, and those hands were not made to nurture. they were made to make pretty roommates cum and to pull dirty triggers. but nowhere in that did it say they were made to love you. nowhere did it specify he would keep it safe. you had given it up, before you had even realized, and he was playing you like his favorite instrument.
but simon didn't know how to play music. and there was a part of you that knew nothing about this was in tune.
when he goes, he doesn't say goodbye. and when you cried, it echoed in an empty room.
you would not wait forever. i will not wait forever.
he will not wait forever.
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