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lovelookspretty · 1 month ago

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waking up to you

au!rafe cameron x reader

— in which you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

warnings: swearing, pretty safe !! lowkey i rushed thru im sorry LMAO

authors note: okay ik im a little late with an update and its kind of shorter but i wanted to get out a part asap. im rewatching the 100 rn and ugh. anyway if u arent part of the tag list yet, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

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you sit at the small table across from rafe, your fork hovering above your plate, but your attention keeps drifting toward the large window facing the street. you can’t help it. john b and jj were out there earlier, just hanging around.

it didn’t seem like they would come in, but you still feel uneasy. your eyes flicker to the entrance every few minutes, waiting for them to either walk in or disappear.

“stop glancin’ at the damn window, y/n, i can . . . feel your worry from here," rafe mutters, his voice low and rough, but there’s a hint of something softer there. he doesn’t even look up from his plate, just keeps cutting into his food like it’s nothing, but his words hit you harder than they should.

you blink a few times, then drop your gaze to your plate, the food suddenly less appetizing. it’s not like you can explain it to him—that you’re afraid of seeing john b or jj or that they might somehow sense that you’re not the same y/n they used to know. you’re not sure they’d even care, but the thought of facing them right now, of fumbling through some conversation, makes your stomach twist.

still, you force yourself to eat, to appear normal, though the tension buzzing between your shoulders doesn’t fade.

when you and rafe finally step out of the cafe, your eyes immediately search the street for the van. you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you see that it’s gone. maybe they left. maybe they figured it wasn’t worth it. either way, relief washes over you, but it’s fleeting. you get into the car quickly, a little too quickly, as if you’re still afraid they might show up.

rafe slides in beside you, his movements slower, more casual, and turns the key in the ignition. the engine roars to life, but the radio stays off, just like it was earlier.

the drive home is quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the car as it rolls down the streets. you stare out the window, trying to keep your mind from spiraling, but the silence feels suffocating. eventually, you speak, your voice hesitant, unsure, “remind me why ward and rose hate me again?”

you regret the question the moment it leaves your mouth. you should know why. y/n would know exactly what’s going on between her and rafe’s parents. but you’re not her, and you need answers.

you hold your breath, waiting for his response, and in your peripheral, you see him furrow his brows, his hand on your thigh loosening like he’s pulling back, even just a little.

for a second, you think you’ve blown it, that he’s going to catch on, but then he speaks.

“they don’t hate you,” he says, his tone sharper than before. “they just . . . my dad thinks you’re in it for the money, remember? the cameron wealth. he just doesn’t trust you. and you know how rose is. she just agrees with him as long as she gets her allowance from ward cameron.” there’s a bitterness in his voice when he says his father’s name, like it’s coated in something darker. “seems a bit fucking hypocritical if you ask me.”

in it for the money? the words bounce around your head, disorienting you. you weren’t expecting that. your eyes drop to the dashboard, and you try to wrap your mind around what he’s saying, but it feels wrong. that’s what they think about her. not you. it’s hard to remind yourself of that, to separate yourself from the y/n everyone else knows.

at least, that’s what you think this is. that there was a version of you living in this world, the right version. but something must’ve been two nights ago and there was just . . . you don’t know. you can’t accept that this life is yours. you’ve never lived it.

you hesitate, then whisper, “do you . . . agree with them?”

the question hangs in the air between you, and for a second, you think he’s not going to answer. but then the car comes to a sudden stop as he pulls up in front of the house, slamming on the brakes harder than necessary. he turns toward you, eyes sharp, focused. there’s a pause, a heavy silence.

“no,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “i don’t. you know that.”

you look at him, trying to read his expression, trying to understand why he’s so sure. there’s something there in his eyes, something unspoken that makes your chest tighten. but you don’t push. instead, you just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat.

you step into the house and the door clicks shut behind you. the echo of your footsteps fades as you make your way upstairs, shoes dangling from your fingers by their backs.

when you reach rafe’s room, you drop the shoes in the closet with a soft thud and let yourself fall back onto the bed. the mattress bounces slightly under your weight, the cool sheets brushing against your skin as you settle in. you fish your phone out of your back pocket, unlocking it with a quick swipe.

a few notifications pop up on the screen—most of them unimportant, just the usual, but two names catch your eye. one from your mother, another two from jj.

your thumb hovers over jj’s messages first, curiosity or maybe just habit pushing you to open them: ‘ hey how u been? ’ followed by another message, ‘ saw u at driftwood lol ’

you grimace. please stop talking to me, you think, and you almost consider typing that out for him, but you just swipe the conversation away. it feels wrong, ignoring him, but it’s safer this way. at least for now.

you tap on your mom’s message, her name flashing up on the screen. it’s a simple ‘ hello? ’ sent after a previous message asking if you wanted to video call tonight. guilt tugs at you for not answering sooner, but you quickly type a response: ‘ i’ll be there ’

you drop the phone onto your chest and close your eyes, the tension slowly leaving your body.

rafe comes into the room just a minute after, dragging his feet as he enters, and flops down on the bed beside you with a heavy sigh. he’s on his back, his arms thrown up to rub his eyes. the weight of the day is already too much, you can tell.

you roll onto your side to face him, watching the rise and fall of his chest for a second. he looks tired—more than tired—and for some reason, you feel this sudden pull to comfort him. maybe it’s because you’re realizing that you’re stuck here for longer than you ever imagined, or maybe it’s because, despite everything, there’s something grounding about feeling him next to you. something real.

you slide your hand over his stomach, feeling the firm muscle under his t-shirt, and trail your fingers up to his neck. his skin is warm, smooth.

he smells like fresh ocean air mixed with something expensive—sandalwood, maybe, and a hint of cedar. it’s clean, masculine, and comforting in its own strange way. your hand rests against the side of his face, and you lean in, pressing your cheek lightly to his shoulder, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorize it. the scent of him feels like an anchor to this new world, even if you don’t fully belong in it.

rafe’s eyes flutter shut, his face softening under your touch, and after a quiet moment, he murmurs, "i love you."

the words catch you off guard. you blink, your heart skipping for a second as reality slams into you. you don’t really know him—at least not this version of him. not like that. and yet, you have to play the part, don’t you?

“i love you,” you mumble back, the words feeling foreign on your tongue, like they don’t belong to you. but even as they leave your lips, your mind is already spinning, thoughts racing faster than you can keep up.

a million things zip through your head at once—what if this is it? what if you never find a way home? what if you’re stuck here forever, living this life that doesn’t belong to you, loving a man who isn’t really yours?

it’s terrifying—the possibility that you might grow attached to this place, that you might actually start to like it. and then what? if you ever do go home, what happens? will you feel crushed by the weight of leaving it all behind? will you go insane, trying to navigate two lives, two versions of reality?

maybe you have nothing to worry about. maybe everything will work itself out.

but maybe you have everything to worry about.

you sit up slowly from the bed, careful not to disturb rafe as he drifts deeper into sleep. you slip away from him quietly, your feet making no sound as you pad across the room to his desk. sitting down, you lean forward, resting your elbows on the cool surface, and run your fingers through your hair. you’re tired—bone-tired—but sleep feels far away, unreachable. you need something, anything, to distract you.

your eyes open lazily, glancing at the surface of the desk. it's clean, organized, too neat, really, for someone like rafe. there’s not much on it aside from a few pieces of mail. you sift through them halfheartedly—most of it is boring stuff, some bank letters, a couple of magazines.

some are even addressed to you. they’re opened already, though, and there’s nothing of importance. not that you expected there to be.

pushing yourself up from the desk, you wander around the room. it’s yours too, right? or at least it feels that way, with how much space you apparently take up.

your fingers trail along the dresser, the faint creaking of the drawer breaking the silence as you pull it open. inside, neatly folded, are your clothes—well, her clothes. the y/n from this universe. it feels strange, surreal, knowing this other version of you needed extra room for her things. maybe she had more stuff and she just wanted more space.

your mind drifts back to what rafe said earlier. that ward and rose didn’t like you. didn’t trust you. they thought you were just after their money, like some kind of gold digger. you snort at the thought—it’s ironic, really. considering how ward and rafe were obsessed with finding literal treasure in the show. maybe everyone in this family, including her, were a little too focused on gold.

closing the drawer, you step toward the closet, opening it just as carefully. it’s split down the middle, half filled with rafe’s clothes, the other half with yours. the dresser must’ve just been for overflow.

you shake your head, closing it softly and moving back toward the bed, your gaze trailing toward your phone. it's sitting on the bed next to rafe, tempting you, but the thought of waking him just to grab it doesn’t feel worth it.

you sit down on the floor instead, crossing your legs and staring blankly at the room around you. bored. that’s all you are—bored and stuck.

your choices are limited. you can’t go downstairs and risk running into ward or rose, can’t hang out with anyone yet, and leaving for a drive without telling rafe seems . . . wrong. maybe this universe’s y/n felt the same way. maybe she felt isolated here, bored out of her mind. maybe she lost it at some point. maybe—

god, stop, you think to yourself, shaking your head.

you stare at the floor for a while, trying to focus on the wood grain beneath your fingers, but your gaze eventually drifts to something under the bed. boxes, mostly, a couple of old board games, but something else catches your attention. something wedged between two boxes.

curious, you lean down and reach for it, your fingers brushing against the cover of what looks like a journal. you pull it out, wiping a thin layer of dust from the top as you grimace. “gross,” you mutter under your breath. guess rafe doesn’t clean under the bed often.

lying down on your stomach, you run your hand along the outside of the journal. it’s worn but intact, the pages thick and sturdy under your fingertips. you never took rafe as the journaling type—he doesn’t seem like someone who would sit down and pour his thoughts onto paper. but here it is, in your hands. something personal. something that might give you a glimpse into his mind, this world, this version of him.

you hesitate for a moment, staring at the journal as your thumb traces the edge of it.

you open it, flipping past the first few pages with a lazy flick of your fingers. the familiar scent of old paper wafts up, and you wrinkle your nose at it. laying your head on your fist, you hold the journal open with one hand, skimming the neat, familiar handwriting.

it’s strange seeing rafe’s thoughts laid out like this—stranger still because you never imagined him as someone who would keep a journal at all.

but he does. and he’s detailed.

each page is filled top to bottom, crammed with his thoughts, feelings, and observations. day after day, entry after entry. it’s more than you expected, almost overwhelming in its depth. he didn’t just write about major events or things that stood out—no, he captured everything. the small details. the mundane moments. he seemed obsessed with recording every second of his life.

as you glance at the dates, your brows furrow. the entries are more recent than you thought they’d be. flipping back to the beginning of the journal, you see that it starts in early may. a sharp contrast to what you remember from your own life—your real life—where you had left in the middle of september. it’s jarring. maybe time works differently here.

and then, something else catches your attention: the handwriting.

it’s familiar. too familiar. not just because it’s rafe’s, but because there’s something about the way the letters curve, the way the words flow across the page.

you sit up a little straighter, squinting as you begin to properly read through the entries. your eyes scan the first entry dated may 12.

‘ 05/12

i don’t know why i’m even bothering to write this down. everyone says journaling is supposed to help or whatever, but all i feel is frustrated. it’s like everyone around me has it together, and i’m the one constantly getting in my own way. or maybe they’re the ones in my way. i don’t know. it’s hard to tell these days.

i’m trying, though. i think? i mean, isn’t this part of trying to get better? to work through my issues instead of ignoring them? i just don’t get why it feels like such a chore. i’ve spent so long pretending everything’s fine, so maybe that’s why this whole “self-reflection” thing is pissing me off. i’m not used to it. i’m not used to being told that i need to change, when i feel like i’ve been doing fine. they’re the ones who need to stop acting like i’m the problem. i’m not perfect, sure, but who is?

whatever. maybe i’m just overthinking it. i know i need to be better, but it’s hard when people keep pushing me into a corner, expecting me to react the same way i always have. i don’t want to be that person anymore, but it’s like, what’s the point of trying to change when no one’s even going to notice? or worse—they’re gonna keep treating me like i’m the same person no matter what i do.

i don’t know. this is stupid. but maybe it’ll help if i keep writing. or maybe not. we’ll see. ’

you blink at the page, your brow furrowing in confusion. why is rafe trying to change? change from what?

you try to shake off the unease and flip through the pages, skipping a few until you reach another entry. this one’s dated august 3rd.

‘ 08/03

i swear, sometimes i feel like no matter how hard i try, people just refuse to see it. today was fucking awful. jj and i got into it again, and i don’t even know how it got so bad so fast. i’ve been trying to be better. i’ve been trying to show up, to listen, to be the kind of friend everyone says i should be. but jj? he just doesn’t get it. he always wants to bring up the past, like i haven’t already said sorry a million times. like i haven’t tried to make up for everything. what more do they want from me?*

and the worst part is, he made me feel like i’m the bad guy. like i’m still the same selfish, narcissistic person from months ago. but i’m not. or at least, i’m trying not to be. but how am i supposed to change when people like him just won’t let me? he said i’ve been a bad friend. me? a bad friend? maybe i haven’t been perfect, but who has? i’m doing the best i can, and it’s not like everyone else is a saint. but no, it’s always me who gets the blame.

honestly, i think jj just made everything worse. i was starting to feel like i was making progress, and now? i don’t know. i feel like i’m back to square one. all i wanted was to fix things, to show i’ve changed, and instead i’m just stuck here, trying to explain myself to someone who clearly doesn’t care.

whatever. i’m done trying to explain myself. if people don’t want to see that i’m trying, then that’s their problem, not mine. ’

your heart races as you read the entry. wait . . . this is familiar. the mention of jj. hold on.

you flip through a smaller chunk of pages, eager to find the last written entry, and stop on september 17.

‘ 09/17

i’ve done everything i can. i’ve changed. i know i’ve changed, but no one else seems to think so. it’s like no matter what i do, i’m still the same person in their eyes. the selfish one, the one who only cares about herself. it’s not fair. i’ve been working so hard to be better, to be different. but every time i walk into a room, it’s like they’re waiting for me to mess up again. waiting for me to be the person they’ve decided i am.

i just wish they’d give me a break. i’m not that person anymore. or at least, i’m trying not to be. it’s exhausting, having to prove myself over and over again. i thought things would be different by now. i thought people would see that i’m not the same. but all i get are those looks. like i’ve done something unforgivable. like i’m still the villain in their story, no matter how hard i’ve tried to rewrite mine.

i don’t know what else to do. i’m tired of fighting for people to see me. maybe i’ll never be enough for them. maybe they’re just waiting for me to screw up again, to prove that i haven’t changed at all. but i have. i have changed. i know it.

god, i just wish i could do something big. something to show them all at once that i’m not who i used to be. i’m better now. i just don’t know how to make them believe it. ’

your blood runs cold as you read the last line. panic surges through you, and you glance around the room as if seeking an escape. you scan the pages, your eyes racing over the words, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

you were absolutely wrong. this isn’t rafe’s journal.

this is hers.

@v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @httpsdrewstarkey @lovdrew @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @behindviolettwrites @avngrssckr @stonerroadbull @cali-888 @coquettajob @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @cold-soup1223 @inaluvrsworld @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @drewsephrry @sgecorrow @rafesgiirl @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies @maybankslover @honeyluvsatj @darleneslane @alysaaaa444 @w4nnabeurs @watersquirtpewpewboomm @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

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marvelfilth · 10 months ago

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The mustache

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Natasha crashes your date

Masterlist

You let a fake laugh bubble out of your mouth for what feels like a hundredth time this evening. Your date looks smug, her eyes trailing over your form, almost leering. She takes a sip of her wine and licks her lips slowly, daring you to look.

You don't.

You can almost hear Natasha say I told you so.

You clear your throat and take another bite of a perfectly made steak - the only saving grace of this disastrous date.

You mentally cringe, closing your eyes briefly. Objectively, the date is going well - she showed up on time, held the door for you, helped you to your seat and made perfect small talk, occasionally throwing in a joke or two. You can excuse her wandering eyes, knowing you've been throwing mixed signals all evening.

You nod along to whatever story she's telling, smiling and chuckling when it's appropriate. You barely resist the urge to excuse yourself. You chew on your lower lip, wondering how you allowed yourself to get in such a mess.

Your phone chimes once, screen lightning up with a new notification.

Natasha.

Yep. Here's your answer.

You look at your date, hating how different her smile is from your best friends. It's too large, too open and not even half as genuine. Natasha's smiles are small, barely noticeable, but they're enough to make your breath come short.

You sigh. You need to stop comparing your every date to Natasha.

“Do you mind if I take a look? It might be important,” you ask, reaching for your phone. She nods happily, waving the waiter over for another glass of wine.

How bad is it?

You snort, coughing immediately to cover up the sound and reaching for your glass.

Another message appears right in front of your eyes.

That bad?

You choke on your wine, discreetly looking around, but coming up short.

Six o'clock, dumbass.

You wait a moment and look right behind you, mouth falling open when you finally see her.

She's sitting three tables down, wearing your favorite hoodie and a black cap. With sunglasses covering her eyes. In a dimly lit restaurant. What makes you let out a strangled laugh, though, is a perfect old fashioned mustache glued right under her nose. She twirls both ends around her fingers, curling them up, before lowering her glasses and sending you an exaggerated wink.

The best spy in the world, the woman who made entire governments collapse, is sitting right behind you, looking like a child playing dress up.

You whip around, your face red, and wave off your date's concerned look. “I'm alright.”

She nods, all too happy to continue talking about all of the famous people she's met through her job.

You hide your phone under the table and shoot your best friend a text.

You're ridiculous

Her reply comes instantly.

And yet you love me.

Her words hit a little too close to home.

You are hopelessly in love with your best friend.

Another message comes through.

What's wrong?

You frown, eyes darting around. You didn't even do anything to warrant the question.

And don't even try to lie. I can tell something's wrong.

You sigh, tell Natasha everything is fine, and place your phone face down on the table, your date still recounting a story of how she met some actress.

The next half an hour is tense. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you. You can hear her plotting a way to get you out of here, but you know you have to at least try to make it work, if not with… Connie? Courtney? Then with someone else, before you go completely mad.

Your phone rings. You can't stop yourself from picking it up.

“Sorry, it’s an emergency.” Your excuse sounds bad even to your own ears, and you wince when your date pointedly looks away with pursed lips.

“Do you want me to throw her out of the window?” She starts without a preamble. “If not, I have a knife in my boot and you know how good I am with knives.”

“Can't you handle it without me?” You ask, knowing Natasha will play along. Your date reaches for her purse, dejected. Guilt swirls in your chest, and you contemplate your next words. Maybe you should stay and-

“Don't feel bad, she's been looking at the blonde to your right since she came in,” Natasha drawls, “and no, I can't handle it without you. I need you back home.”

You blush, biting on your lower lip.

“I'm sorry, but there's been an-”

“Just go,” your date cuts you off, “I'll handle the bill.” Her eyes are on the blonde girl before she's done speaking, and you leave with your conscience clear.

Natasha catches up to you outside and leads you to her corvette - her sunglasses and cap are gone, but that ridiculous mustache is still in place.

“What do you think?” She asks as she opens the door for you before going around the car and taking a seat behind the wheel. “I like the look.”

You snort and shake your head, amused with your best friend's antics. “It's… something.”

She rolls her eyes, starting the engine. “I know you love it.”

You hum, relaxing against the soft leather, your worries stoved away by Natasha's calming presence.

“Why do you keep going on dates if you hate it so much?” She asks when you reach Compound gates.

You sigh, think of an answer that would get her off your back without making her suspicious.

“I just… I-” you stutter, wincing.

Great.

She raises an eyebrow, looking absolutely ridiculous, but so, so beautiful, it makes your entire chest ache.

The car comes to a stop, and Natasha focuses all of her attention on you.

“I need to get over someone.”

There, you've said it.

“Who?” She asks, and for the first time in all the years you've known her you can't read her at all.

“You don't know them.”

She looks ahead, her jaw clenched tight. “How long?”

You blink away the tears. “A few years.”

She looks down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Who?” She asks again.

“Natasha…”

“Is it Carol?” Her voice is tight, her eyes dart around the street.

“God no,” you chuckle, thinking about your blond friend. Valkyrie would kill you on the spot if you even looked at her the wrong way, not that you're interested anyway. They need to get over themselves and finally admit their feelings to each other. Anyone can see their pining from a mile away.

“Kate?”

You shake your head. “You don't know them.”

“Then tell me. What would it matter?”

“Nat, can we just-”

“Tell me.”

You groan, and turn to open the door, but Natasha’s hand landing on your thigh stops you. You swallow, freezing on the spot.

“Please.”

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable. “It's you,” you whisper.

The hand on your thigh clumps tight. “What?”

“It's you,” you repeat, feeling braver after the admission. “Always you.”

She lets out a deep, shaky breath, before reaching for your face with her other hand. “Look at me, please.”

You face her, eyes still closed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. They're wiped away a moment later, and your face gets enveloped in the softest warmth.

“Open your eyes.”

You swallow, and do as she asked. She looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, lips falling open. “What?”

She smiles, her thumb tracing patterns on your wet cheek. “I love you.”

You look at her for a long moment, taking in her features - her forest green eyes, tender and soft, the slope of her nose, so kissable. Your eyes trail lower and then suddenly a loud laugh makes its way out of your chest. You bend, clutching your stomach, happy tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

Natasha looks delightfully confused.

“I'm sorry, it's just…” you giggle, pointing at her face, “the mustache.”

She groans, tearing it away. “I've been going crazy all this time, you know.”

“Yeah?” You grin, head spinning.

“Yeah,” she says before claiming your lips. She's soft, so soft it makes your toes curl and your chest get warm and fuzzy. The kiss is gentle, loving. You mewl against her, opening your mouth and welcoming her tongue.

The kiss grows heated.

“I,” you gasp between the kisses, “I love you. So much.”

You can feel her blinding smile in the next kiss, and the one that comes after.

#natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow #the mustache

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3dmanswhore · 5 months ago

Text

do you? | k. bakugou

3.2k words

content: nsfw, mdni, aged up characters, fem!reader, established (ex) relationship, friends w benefits, fluffy smut, unprotected sex, unedited & lowkey badly written

tbh didn’t even plan on writing this as smut but it just kind of turned into it as i kept writing it 💀, might have to go on another 2+ year hiatus over the embarrassment

other than fucking with no strings attached, Katsuki and i hadn’t seen each other much since our last year at UA. especially at ungodly hours such as right now.

when he would sneak into my dorm after a big fight, silently cuddling up to my half-asleep figure. i would mindlessly stroke his hair and fall back asleep, sometimes waking up to him, or just after he had left.

but here he was now.

at 3am, in my apartment.

only having had the key to unlock the place because i gave it to him for the sake of convenience. for when he calls on me in the middle of a drunken night.

he’s standing at the foot of my bed and staring straight at me, the lit up screen of his phone which he used as a flashlight illuminating his tired features in the dark.

“the fuck are you starin’ at”, he says in his usual bitter tone.

i grimace at him, “the fuck are you doin’ here?”, i say in a slightly softer tone, only because i was too tired to try to outmatch him in a field he was far too experienced in: yelling.

“what do you think?”, he says matter-of-factly. and while i usually don’t mind the booty calls. in fact, sometimes i even seek them out, i’m definitely not up for it right now. not without warning, at least.

i groan as i prop myself up on my elbows, “the hell is wrong with you? i told you i’m not fucking you unannounced, especially not when you just let yourself into my apartment.”

he lets out an annoyed groan, pulling his phone up to his face as he starts to vigorously type on it.

a few seconds later, i hear a ping from my own phone. picking it up, i see the far too familiar text message pop up as a notification: i’m coming over.

“you’re already over, dumbass”, i groan as i scoot to the far end of the bed, making space for him.

he shuts his phone off, laying it down next to my own one.

he takes his shirt off, flinging it to some dark corner of my room.

he gets into bed, his hand brushing against my shoulder as he pulls the sheets over us both.

and he…

turns around?

his back facing me?

my eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “what the fuck are you doing?”, i ask in a slightly raised whisper.

without even turning around to face me, he answers, slightly muffled as he talks into the pillow. “what the fuck does it look like?”

“i have no idea”, i answer honestly, “did you seriously just come here for a sleepover?”

i hear him shuffle in the dark as he turns around to look at me, propped up on his elbow as he glares down at me. “you just said you didn’t wanna fuck. i’m tryna sleep”, he looks at me expectantly, as if waiting for a nod of approval before he can go back to sleeping.

“is this like reverse psychology? you think i’m gonna wanna fuck if you suddenly don’t?”, i’m still confused on why he even came over.

he tsks in response, flinging my forehead, “you think you’re all that”, he says harshly but i can sense a playful undertone in the words. “i can’t fall asleep in an empty bed, you should know that from our failed relationship.”

i stayed silent and he turned to lie on his back, facing the ceiling with his hands clasped over his bare chest. his eyes were open but he didn’t say a word, just steadily breathed as he waited for a response from me.

“i didn’t know that”, i said softly as i adjusted my position, scooting a bit closer to him as my face was now mere inches from his shoulder.

he hummed as he kept blinking at the ceiling. “why do you think i always came back to you”, he said just above a whisper, as if he didn’t even want me to hear it.

“well, i would like to think it’s due to how amazing of a girlfriend i was”, i said sarcastically as i copied his posture, studying the ceiling with him as if we were stargazing.

he snorted sarcastically, which admittedly, slightly hurt.

“what was that for!? i wasn’t that bad”, i said in disbelief, sitting up slightly as i stared at him with a shocked expression.

he side-eyed me, and i could almost notice a smirk playing on his features. “you were fuckin’ psycho, y/n”

i hit his chest, rolling my eyes as i laid back down, accidentally resting my head on his shoulder.

i thought he might shrug me off, but instead he extended his arm around me.

we were now cuddling.

i can’t remember us cuddling much even when we dated.

he said he hated the unnecessary heat coming from my body, though i would always wake up to him spooning me, or squeezing me to near death like i was his plushy.

“i was only psycho because you gave me reasons to be”, i retorted, knowing it was only partly true.

it’s true that, in my reckless and hormonal teenage-hood, i could be extremely jealous and possessive. but he could have worked out less, or gotten a bad haircut, or done something to get the girls to stop fawning over him.

the only thing that pushed away the flocks was his shitty attitude, but i’m sure some were even more turned on by it.

“despite your beliefs, i never cheated on you once”, i know he didn’t. “hell, i never even looked at another girl besides you”, he must have meant ‘while we were together’, but i guess it was common sense that didn’t need to be specified.

still, it made my heart churn: the possibility that i was the only one who managed to capture his attention, ever.

the idea gave me a disgusting sense of importance. one so suffocating it might throw me into old habits of trying to get his approval at all costs.

instead of saying something that would ruin the moment and push him away, i hummed in response as i turned to wrap around his warm, and slightly sweaty torso.

thankfully, because of his quirk, he never smelled bad. if anything, i think the sweet-scented sweat made him just that much more intoxicating.

the hand he had wrapped around me rubbed soothing circles into my shoulder, and i could tell by his quickening heartbeat and uneven breath, that even the great Katsuki was capable of feeling nervous.

“i miss this”, he says softly, and i’m sure it is a sentence he will regret muttering in the morning — when he’s not affected by the drowsiness and hypnagogia.

my heart skips a beat as i continue tracing the lines of his muscles, “you do?” is all i can say to not reveal my own feelings on the matter.

“do you?”, he asks instantly, so much so i’m not even sure he meant to say it aloud.

he grabs my tracing hand with his free one, bringing it up to his face as he kisses at my palm, and each section of each finger, the kisses becoming more hungry as he digs his face into my touch like an abandoned hound.

i can only utter his name, my voice shaky as i mindlessly inch my face closer to his.

his usually angry eyes almost look like they are pleading now.

his arm has now moved to my waist as he tries to pull me closer, our chests touching not being enough.

his other hand moves to the back of my neck as he pushes my face down on his. he hungrily nips at my lips, and if i wasn’t so used to his touch i would think he was trying to devour me whole.

we hadn’t kissed like this in such a long time. even during this weird arrangement of ours that had been going on for months, we’d only lock our lips for the sake of muffling the moans and gasps.

as he pulled me in even closer, my shirt now having ridden up almost completely — my chest the only thing stopping it in place, i was now straddling him as he moved his hand to somewhere more interesting than my bare waist.

he squeezed my ass and i let out a gasp to which he only deepened the kiss, stealing the air from my lungs.

i wasn’t sure whether i was feeling lightheaded because he was so inebriating or because of the lack of oxygen going to my brain.

but my judgment was clouded, that was for sure.

i didn’t even want to think of what would happen between us in the morning. perhaps he really was just using psychological tricks to get me to sleep with him tonight. i definitely wouldn’t put it past him.

but i couldn’t care enough right now. i just wanted his touch. i needed it. i had missed it for so long. not the lustful, mindless one i’d been feeling recently, but this — the hungry, desperate touch that leaves bruises in places no bruises should be.

he detaches himself from my lips and moves to nipping on my jaw, and my neck.

i hung my head in the space where his neck and shoulder connect, breathing heavily and whining right into his ear as he teeths at that sweet spot he knew so well of.

he bucks his hips up, searching for even the slightest friction as he continues working on my collar area.

i close my eyes, trying to stop the dizzying feeling in my head. but breathing him in while listening to his quickened heartbeat doesn’t do much to help.

he pulls away, forcing my hips down onto his own and causing me to sit up as i use his heaving chest as an anchor.

he squeezes my bare thighs, his fingers hooking themselves around the waistband of my underwear. he pulls on it softly as if testing the elasticity, his red eyes gleaming at me hungrily.

“did you know i was coming? is that why you only wore this?”, he gruffly said, still playing with the waistband of my panties as his other hand rubbed my back, riding up my tank-top even higher.

i think he knew this was just how i always slept, that it had nothing to do with him. but in this moment, he must have just needed to hear me say it: yes, katsuki, all of this is for you.

so i did, ignoring the fact that it wasn’t true.

he closed his eyes for a moment before sitting upright, holding me to his chest so i wouldn’t fall off as he readjusted us both.

“i’ll make it worth your while”, he said reassuringly, cupping my face with his calloused hand, giving my cheeks a squeeze as he planted a kiss on the tip of my nose.

melting at his touch as i always did, i rested my forehead against his as he looked down at his boxers, trying to pull them down with my legs still straddling him.

i lifted myself up to allow him space as he finally managed to kick them off.

i sat back down, his sprung up cock twitching between our torsos.

he stroked it once, the precum leaking onto my bare stomach as he slapped it against me.

i felt myself leaking on his lap, grinding on him, desperate to feel him inside me, but playing it off as just readjusting myself.

but he knew the truth.

he knew i needed him just as badly as he did me, maybe even more.

he slowly pulled my top off, admiring the way my tits bounced at the motion.

he squeezed my waist, muttering a curse under his breath as we locked eyes again.

“d’you have a condom?”, i asked as i ran a finger through his hair, watching as his eyebrows knitted at the pulling sensation.

“fuck”, he said more clearly now as his head fell, and i knew what the answer was. at least i was now sure he didn’t come here just to fuck.

i shook my head reassuringly, “i’ll get the morning-after pill tomorrow” i knew it was a dumb idea. even in that drunken passion haze, i knew it. i knew it was too risky, and that those things were only about 90% effective — and that is if i remembered to take it on time.

but i couldn’t pass on this opportunity. i couldn’t let him just go home after all of this.

Katsuki was smart, he knew it was a dumb idea, too. but he stayed quiet, nodding silently as he once again started playing with the band of my panties.

i planted soft kisses on his temple, nipping on his ear knowing it was one of his many weaknesses.

he let out a long sigh, mumbling something about ripping off my underwear.

they were an expensive pair, so i’m not sure why i agreed to it, nodding vigorously as i mumbled his name desperately.

like it was just a piece of string, he ripped them off swiftly, pulling them out from under me and throwing them somewhere to the side.

i once again rested on his forehead, watching as he slowly pumped his thick cock against my folds, squealing at the sensation.

we both knew there was no need for further foreplay. maybe when we were younger, we would take hours getting each other off with just our hands and mouths before finally sealing the deal.

but now, there was no need. not only because we were both as horny as one could be, but because we were also so exhausted. unsure whether it was due to the fact that it was nearly 4am and we were running on almost zero hours of sleep, or simply because we were getting older and didn’t have the same stamina we did when we were eighteen or nineteen.

he grabbed my thigh with one hand, lifting me off slightly as i grabbed his shoulder for support, squirming as he rubbed his tip all over my leaking pussy before finally sliding it in completely.

i let out a loud whine, hiding my face into his hair as he kept both hands on my ass.

i wrapped my arms around his neck and he kissed my shoulder, “you good?” he asked as he moved one hand to rub my upper arm in comfort.

i nodded as i let out a sigh, mumbling his name and a pathetic command to fill me up.

he listened, of course, rocking his hips up into me as he simultaneously lifted me off himself, trying to create a rhythm between the two movements.

“c’mon baby, ride me. you know how well you do it”, he almost begged. praise wasn’t something Katsuki practiced in our bedroom life, ever. if anything, he did the opposite. but i think in this moment, he was too exhausted to carry both our loads and get himself off at the same time.

i obliged, lifting myself off him slowly and dropping back down. he desperately bucked into me, unsatisfied with the speed i was going at.

i swirled my hips on him, as if i was tracing patterns with the movement. he let out a broken whine, sinking his head into my chest as i finally picked up the speed.

the sound of skin slapping skin echoed around the room, and i was sure i would get noise complaints from the neighbors in the morning.

he left wet kisses on my chest, breathing heavily as i continued bouncing on him.

i was starting to get tired, my pace faltering as i whined nonsense into his ear. “you fill me up so good, ‘tsuki”, i knew the effect my dumb nicknames had on him.

he always pretended to hate it, and only wanted me to call him by his name. but i always noticed the way his eyes would glint when i’d throw a petname into our conversations.

he suddenly wrapped his arms tightly around my torso, stopping my ability to move as he started pounding into me. the bed was creaking, and i’m pretty sure we even managed to push it from its position as i tried to grab onto the wall behind it.

i let out a loud moan as i wrapped myself around him again, feeling his thick cock fill me up as it pulsated inside of me.

his length hit the deepest part of my insides, and the rhythmic pounding of that sweet spot overwhelmed me with pleasure as i heaved desperately into his ear.

“don’t stop, Katsuki”, i whimpered into his ear, letting out more moans as i dug my fingernails into his back to try and suppress the feeling, but to no avail.

he groaned, holding me tightly as he suddenly turned us around so i was lying underneath him.

he kept up the pace, resting his forehead against mine as he stared into my eyes.

i let out a cry of pleasure, my breath hitching as my heaving mixed with the mumbling of his name and pleads to keep going.

he didn’t stop, but over time his thrusts became sloppy. i watched his face distort in pleasure as he closed his eyes to focus on the thrusts, resting his head in the crook of my neck.

“don’t stop, baby, i’m so close”, the only words of encouragement i could think of in this moment. i ran my hand through his hair, pulling his head up so he could see how good he was making me feel.

he let out a desperate whine, coating my chest with peppered kisses as he kept thrusting into me.

now the sound of squelching and mixed liquids filled the room, along with our desperate wails of pleasure.

“fill m’up with your cum, baby. ‘want to feel you inside”, i whimpered incoherently, pulling him in closer as i wrapped my legs around his hips.

he let out a groan as his pace quickened once more. he held one arm besides my head, propping himself up — while he slithered the other one down to my heat, rubbing my clit until i couldn’t tell whether i was moaning out of pleasure or pain.

the combined sensation of his sex filling me up and his rough fingers overworking my clit proved to be too much as i unraveled all over him, crying out his name desperately as i clung onto him.

his breathing started getting heavier as he kept pumping into me, trying to bring himself to a finish as he rode out my own.

i moaned words of encouragement into his ear, peppering kisses on his jaw and neck until i finally felt his cock twitching inside of me.

he let out a prolonged moan as his semen squirted inside of me, Katsuki pumping himself inside a few more times to ride out the orgasm.

i felt the juices leak out of me as he tiredly pulled out, still lying on-top of me as he tried to pull the blanket over us.

he kept his head sunken in the crook of my neck, his breathing easing as he muttered something incomprehensible.

i brushed through his hair, listening to his calm breathing and feeling his heartbeat slow down to a normal speed.

“i missed you too, ‘tsuki”, i spoke softly, not even sure whether he was still awake to hear it.

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louisferrignojr · 3 months ago

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hello 911blr here's another little snippet of my fake dating au. it's going so slowly. but at least it's going!

Buck catches his attention pretty much right away − Tommy’s gaze is immediately drawn to his ridiculously plump, pink mouth, before taking in the rest of the picture. He’s frowning at the camera, almost like seeing his own reflection mirrored on his phone’s screen through the front-facing lens is offending him, somehow, and why would this guy choose that picture to be front-and-centre on his dating profile? Still, his messy, curly hair, and the scruff on his jawline, and − the ridiculous lips − are hard to resist. Tommy taps to check out the rest of his pictures. In one, he’s clean-shaven, wearing a white hoodie, smiling so big and bright, his gaze somewhere behind the camera, probably fixed on whoever was taking the picture; then there’s another frowny selfie right after that, taken inside a car, with a seatbelt across his chest and a black Labrador resting his little head on the guy’s shoulder, and okay, that’s fucking adorable. Tommy can’t help but smile − but that only lasts until he reads the guy’s bio.

hello grindr i’m not gay (but i’m an ally!) anyway i need a fake boyfriend to be my date to my parents’ stupid anniversary party because they told me not to bring “another new girlfriend” so i’m just trying to comply with their request :-) in return you will get an all-you-can-eat-buffet and open bar. or anything else you want (short of sexual favours)

Yeah, that tracks. These wholesome-looking guys always come with at least one red flag. And this is a fucking massive one.

Tommy bites down on his lower lip and tells himself he’s not actually thinking about messaging, but he knows he’s lying to himself. He tries to weigh the pros and cons for all of five minutes before he thinks, fuck it, and decides to send a message. What’s the worst that could happen? With a deep exhale, Tommy taps on the little message button and types out the only logical opener he can think of.

tommy: if you can prove you’re not a catfish, i’m more than happy to be your fake date

buck: how do i prove i’m not a catfish? buck: you can look me up on instagram. i’m buckley92

tommy: hah, nah, that won’t do. it’s gonna have to be a dickpic i’m afraid. with today’s newspaper of your choice.

buck: who the fuck is still buying newspapers buck: fine. give me half an hour

Tommy puts his phone aside with the biggest grin on his face. If nothing else, it’s been entertaining, at least so far. He still doubts this guy is real, or his request for a fake boyfriend isn’t just a thinly veiled excuse for a curious-but-still-firmly-heterosexual guy to go venturing in the most notorious dating app for queer men − which is entirely unnecessary.

He gets to his feet and goes about cleaning up the mess in the kitchen he’s been successfully ignoring for the last 24 hours, and puts a load of laundry on, knowing he’s running out of clean underwear, and he’s settled back on his comfy couch, ready to dive back into Small Town Horror when his phone pings with a new notification, and Tommy grins when he sees it’s another message from Buck.

It’s a selfie of the same man from the profile pictures, and instantly Tommy exhales with relief. He looks a little different in this picture; younger, somehow, and it might have something to do with the haircut he’s currently sporting, and the lack of product in his dark blonde hair, letting the curls loose. Tommy wants to run a hand through his hair, but he files that away into a far away corner of his mind, as his gaze drops to the dramatically pouty expression on Buck’s face. He’s holding a copy of Los Angeles Times, which has the words “TOMMY FROM GRINDR MADE ME DO THIS” written across the front page in thick black marker. There’s a message sent right after the selfie that reads “will this do or… do you still need the dick pic?”

tagging some interested people

@osh-my-prince @apartmentsmoke @repressedqueen @jewishbuckley and i can't remember who else i might have talked to about this???? if interested in future updates drop me a comment and i'll tag you🫶

#bucktommy #fake dating au #my wips

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isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion · 2 months ago

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Red Lights - Lost the Breakup Part 1

Ex!Lando Norris x Reader, Oscar Piastri x reader

“You’re not exhausting.” He couldn’t stop himself. “You’re like a sip of cold water on a hot day. You’re the feeling I get sitting on the grid, waiting for those red lights. You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…”

A/n: Hiiii guess who's back pookies, I totally not have an anatomy paper to write and procrastinated by writing this

Next Part

“Being in a relationship while being in F1 is exhausting.. That could just be me though. “

Lando said the words so offhandedly that you’d almost missed them, but the meaning couldn't be interpreted any differently. You were exhausting. You could see his PR person gently hit his arm at the statement and he quickly changed the subject.

The silence in your shared hotel room wrapped around you and before you knew it you had begun to pack your suitcase. Lando wouldn’t be due back for a few hours at least and that was enough time to pack up and get to the airport.

Your phone buzzed as you were wheeling your suitcase to sit next to the door of the room.

OP81: I know you saw the interview. Are you ok?

Y/n : No.

Y/n: Did you know that he felt that way? That I’m exhausting and he’s not in love?

OP81: I was as blindsided as you. I thought you guys were great. He always talked about how he couldn't imagine life without you.

OP81: Have you spoken to Lando?

Y/n: No and I'm not planning to, I’m about to head to the airport.

OP81: Need a ride?

25 minutes later you are sitting in the passenger seat of Oscar’s hire car on your way to the airport. He hadn’t said anything the whole ride, just peeked at you periodically as you stared at the passing cars on the highway.

“If you’re planning on jumping out, just know I already put the child lock on… and besides a guy who thinks you’re exhausting isn't worth jumping onto the highway” He says, glancing over again.

“Duly noted.” you say, not even glancing towards him.

“What are you going to do when you get back to Monaco? It’ll only be two days and Lando will be back, do you have somewhere to stay?” There’s a hint of worry in his voice. You realise that you didn’t know he cared that much.

“I’ll figure something out. I’m sure I can stay in a hotel for a few days.”

“You can stay at my place, if you want?’ Oscar suggests, “I’ve got more rooms than I know what to do with”

You nod slightly, “That would actually be really good, I don’t think I can face being in our flat right now.”

Oscar smoothly pulls up at the departure gate. He pulls the suitcase from the back for you. He looks at you, his expression blank but his eyes showing a hint of concern. Oscar pulls a set of keys from his pocket.

“Here, I’ll text you the address.” He presses the keys into your hand. “Just…” His hand comes up to wipe across his face, “Take care, y/n”

You nod and pull Oscar into a hug. “Thank you,osc”, you begin to tear up, “for everything. I know he’s your friend.”

“He may be my friend but you’re my friend too,” He says into your shoulder, “ You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Oscar leaves a gentle kiss on your cheek, and heads towards the car. You give him a tight smile and wave after him as he drives off.

–

It was thankfully early when you arrived at Oscar’s Monaco flat. You really didn’t need any more attention on your relationship than you’d had in the past 4 hours.

After the flood of twitter and instagram notifications regarding the comments Lando had made, it had been easier to deactivate your social media than have to look at the messages from Lando’s fans. Some were nice, sure, but the majority, or what felt like the majority, were people saying that they knew you were never good enough for him. That you’d been using him for attention or money.

There were two messages from Lando.

Lan: Oscar said he took you to the airport

Lan: Don’t you think you might be overreacting?

Oscar’s flat was quiet, aside from the humm of Monaco nightlife. You never understood why New York was “the city that never sleeps” when Monaco was constantly alive from early morning cafes to midnight casino’s to the drunken groups stumbling back to hotels at 4am.

You hadn’t left the flat for two days by the time Oscar got back on Monday morning. Curled up in bed, sporadically getting up for cups of tea before stumbling back to bed to continue the routine of crying and staring at the ceiling of the spare room.

He knocked gently on the doorframe, leaning against it with an unreadable expression.

“I won,” He stated.

Your head snapped towards him at the sound of his voice, “Osc” You rasped,voice hoarse after days of crying. “What?”

“I won,” He repeated, “for you.” He cleared his throat, as if he hadn’t intended to say the second part.

“For me?” You questioned.

He trailed off. “I’m sorry. I know this isn't the right time.” He turned and retreated into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

You stared at the ceiling of the room. How could you have not noticed? Every interaction with Oscar flashed in your mind. First meeting him while out clubbing with Lando after hearing so much about Lando’s new teammate; To late night runs to get ice cream cause Lando didn’t want to ruin his diet, that became habit on a Thursday night as Oscar needed his ‘secret weapon for the weekend; to the words Oscar had just breathed into your room.

You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…

But what?

#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #lando norris x reader #ln4 #op81 #f1 smut #f1 fic #pookies fic recs

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seelestia · 7 months ago

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in lieu of the boop fest: genshin men as boopers.

⎯ something made on a whim to commemorate the lovely booping chaos going on. may not be accurate but i tried!!! 🙏 which one are you?? tag yourself /j this is the silliest thing ever, forgive me. fluff & crack (and made with love).

the harbinger of dedication (???): boop them once and oh, it's on. boops you back and will not stop booping you back — it's an all-out war! or at least, to them. they take this whole matter as an opportunity and certainly don't mind tiring their fingers out just tapping the button on repeat. does it for the fun and to get a reaction out of you. also, probably eats (sends) super boops for breakfast, lunch and dinner. it's their bread and butter.

childe (of course), arataki itto, cyno (has a desire to max out his boop-o-meter till the end - a completionist's habit).

the menace (as simple as that): they have no need to be booped because they're the one booping you first and a lot at that too. oh, you got 99+ notifs? yeah, that's an act of love and it's from them. they hoped you liked the gift because they had fun giving it. grab a handkerchief because you're gonna have to scrub that smirk off their face, literally.

wriothesley, kaeya, shikanoin heizou, lyney (he apologizes by treating you to a meal afterwards).

confusion (awkward ver.): ...what. what is this? what does 'boop' even mean? why does it sound so oddly menacing when uttered out loud? and why are you smiling at like that? it's a trend, you explain and they — reluctantly and nervously — send a boop back. they have no idea what they're doing but at least, seeing that proud look on your face amounts to something. maybe, they did well? they then proceed to send you another one just for good measure. how cute.

xiao, gorou.

confusion (boomer ver.): their first thought was that they're getting hacked by a... feline virus? how interesting (please explain). with some explanation from you, they'll eventually understand the concept! a passive booper at best, but has a proclivity to treat boops as a “i'm thinking about you” button. so just know one boop equals to one time you crossed their mind.

zhongli, neuvillette, dainsleif (still confused at the end of it), diluc (secretly because he has pride).

the 'humble' reciprocator (dark horse?): all is in perfect tandem. you give one boop, they give one back. you give two boops, they give two back. you squint your eyes at them from across the room suspiciously, they chuckle into their hand in response. is that an act of mischief or demureness? you wonder what will happen if you boop them one hundred times? well, let's find out. (they will give back the exact amount, no matter what.)

kaedehara kazuha, baizhu, kamisato ayato (a true hybrid between being humble and a menace, he is. starts off nice until he spams boops when you least expect it... with a smile, of course!).

the bystander with the popcorn: thanks for the boop, you get one back. yes, only one, sorry. they'd rather not participate in the chaos and prefer to keep their inbox clean. no offense meant, you're free to have your fun so go ahead. they're just here to observe because in their humblest opinion, it serves them well enough as participating does. oh, don't look at them like that. you did get one back, didn't you? rejoice in the fact that you're one of the few — if not, the only one — they gave a boop to. treat it as an approval badge. it means you're special (to them).

alhaitham, tighnari, albedo, wanderer (he thinks he's above this childish and pointless act of booping... or is he?).

the victim™: is getting booped left and right without rest. suffocating and drowning in them even. lady luck is not on their side; they swore they booped everyone back to infinity and beyond — surely, it's all repaid and they can take a break now, right? wrong. they rest for 5 minutes and come back to 99+ notifs every single time. (if you relate, you might be a victim of affectionate bullying. feel free to riot about it.)

kaveh, thoma.

the loser at the start line: sneezes whenever the paw comes up on screen, yikes. A+ for effort, though!

venti.

— thanks for reading!

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juniperdugong · 4 months ago

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Relationship quirks Maknae Line ver.

Aka habits I can see the boys doing in a relationship || 95s || 96s || 97s || Maknae line ||

Seungkwan Brings home food

IT DOES NOT MATTER if you have or have not eaten, are starving, or have a full belly! Boo Seungkwan is GOING. To. Bring. Home. Food. For. You. Won't take no for an answer! And not only did he keep snacks on himself before you guys started dating but even more so now. He is such a sweetheart who will never allow you to go hungry.

Honestly, he's hypocritical in that he'll start going on a diet but the minute that you say that you need to go on a diet - the gates of hell break loose in your home. Completely outraged that you won't eat at least a bite of what he's offering you. Pouts and acts like you just told him that you want to break up or something worse. The type to say, "FINE THEN I'LL EAT IT MYSELF", then proceeds to give you the nastiest stare-down of your life as he takes a bite. (If you don't concede to his little charade quick enough this WILL become a silent treatment game)

Vernon Sends pictures of himself

Lowkey, you become a photo storage for this man. Sends a photo to you every single time he thinks of you, which is a lot more often than one might think. Is constantly sending you pics of random things he's found and can't send to anyone else. The one constant is his damn face that never changes in any of the pics despite the angle changes. It's gotten to the point where you've had to ask how he does it but he just shrugs.

Every question you ask is answered in either a meme or a photo of him looking like his regular deadpan self, no words either and if you ask for clarification he just sends another photo of him looking confused as hell.

This really is his own special brand of clinginess. You'll hear a message notification from him, open it, and it's his face at the most unflattering angle... He's literally lying on your stomach right at this moment. No explanation, even if you ask he doesn't give one.

Dino Assumes you're following him everywhere

The opposite of Wonwoo's habit lol. Dino sees absolutely no reason why you shouldn't be by his side at all times. You're his number one comfort, so why wouldn't you be with him 24/7? Weird that you would even think he'd let you leave. He has a spider sense for when you're moving too far away from him and he will immediately grab and bring you towards him.

More than the physical though, this dude will not allow you to be by yourself. If he's going on tour, congrats! You are also going on tour! There's a company trip? Great! You're a part of the company now. It may even get to the point of him downright refusing to go places if he knows there won't be space for you.

"I need to go outside and get some fresh air." "Okay, babe." "I said...I need to go outside and get some fresh air." "Alright, hun, I'll be right here." *Genuinely tweaking out at this point, gets up, and grabs your hand. Dragging you with him.* "You could've just asked me to follow you." *Leaning his head on your shoulder, still slightly upset* "You're supposed to know! I need you near me whenever possible."

A/N: Super sorry that this one came a day late, lovelies! But it's here now and I absolutely adore these boys. I think my favorite of all the habits is probably Woozi's (I'm quite literally biased) but the one that I'm most like is Vernon. Wbu??? Please reblog and comment! Let me know ur thoughts in my asks. Oh! And my requests are opennnnn! Have a great one, babes!

TAGLIST (open): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda

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queen-of-deans-booty · 17 days ago

Text

Nice To Nerf You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: When a new neighbor moves in across from you, you two start what looks to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Square Filled: kiss cam (2020) for @spnfluffbingo

Author’s Note: i came across this video on tiktok and it's so wholesome and cute. thus this fic! here is the video!

The best thing about living in the apartment at the end of the hallway is that you’re far enough away from the other neighbors that you hear them. There is an apartment right across from you and one to your right which is at the very end. To your left is the stairwell as well as one to the right of the apartment across from you. So, besides those two apartments, there are stairs separating you from everyone else.

No one lives in the apartment across from you, and you’re pretty sure the person to your right is dead. You never hear him inside his place, and he never comes out. He must have his groceries delivered because you once saw someone drop them off, and the next hours or so, they were gone. It’s been quiet for nearly a year, and you hope it stays that way.

You’re sitting at your desk at work playing a game on your phone when you get a notification from your Ring doorbell. Movement. Out of curiosity, you open the app to see who might be in front of your place. Maybe it’s your Amazon package you’ve been impatiently waiting for.

It’s not Amazon, but it is a man you’ve never seen before. He’s bringing boxes into the apartment across from you.

“Huh, someone finally moved in,” you say.

“Is he hot?” your coworker who sits next to you, asks.

“I don’t know. All I see is back. It’s a hot back.”

“Let me see.”

Emily scoots her chair closer to you, and you angle your phone to show her. Her eyes widen and a smile breaks out on her face.

“Hubba hubba. That guy is hot.”

You look at your phone to see the man facing your camera. Hot doesn’t even begin to describe him. He’s not too bulky but not too lean, he has a trimmed beard, he’s tan, and he has cute bow legs. He’s going to be your neighbor? A taller man with shaggy hair steps out of the apartment and grabs the last box to bring inside.

“There’s two of them,” you smirk.

“Lucky bitch. My neighbors are either too old, married, or children.”

You’ve never wanted to get home as much as you do than in this moment. At the end of the workday, you practically jog to your car. You check the Ring Doorbell and see that the hallway is cleared of all boxes which means he’s all moved in, at least for now. You start your car and open your music app to pick a playlist when you get a notification from Ring.

You open the app to see the mysterious stranger standing in front of your door holding a Nerf gun. You press the button that allows you to talk to whoever is at the door. The stranger looks even more beautiful up close.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, hi. My name is Dean Winchester, and I just moved in across the hall. I have this tradition where I play Nerf wars with my neighbors. I’m just going to leave this here. Feel free to shoot me at any time.”

Dean sets the Nerf gun on the ground and walks to his door. He waves goodbye before entering his apartment. Okay, that’s a new one. It’s such a wholesome way to get to know your neighbors, so you’re not not liking it. You try not to speed the rest of the way home, and the Nerf gun is on the ground where Dean left it.

“This is so weird,” you mutter with a smile.

You pick up the gun and walk inside your apartment. As weird as this is, this is going to be fun. You’re very competitive. It’s Friday which means you can sleep in tomorrow because you don’t have to go back to work until Monday. You have forgotten about the Nerf gun until you see it on your kitchen counter. You walk over to the door and peer through the peephole, but there is nothing in the hallway.

You walk away from the door with a smirk, already forming a plan inside your head on how to get Dean. A few hours later, you’re sitting at your computer playing some games when you get a notification from Ring about movement at your front door. You open the app and see Dean approaching his door. You jump out of your seat and grab your Nerf gun on your way to the door.

There’s no better way to do this than to just go all in. You yank the door open and start shooting at him, and he jumps from the sudden intrusion. He finches back as if the bullets actually hurt, and he struggles to get his key in the door.

“Surrender! I’ve won this round!” you laugh and continue to shoot him.

He manages to pry his door open and grabs the Nerf gun sitting by his door. He turns and shoots at you but misses both times. You jump back with another laugh and run back into your apartment. Not only is Dean shocked at how beautiful you are, but he’s also surprised he actually got you to participate. Usually, his neighbors aren’t into this kind of thing.

You lost most of your bullets but it was worth it. He can hear your laughter come from inside your apartment, and he knows you’re watching him from your Ring doorbell.

“Alright,” he laughs. “Game on, sweetheart.”

Every time you and Dean get home, the other starts shooting. You bought a bunch of bullets from Amazon to keep your supply stocked, but you also grabbed the strays from your battles. This has been going on for weeks, and it’s honestly the highlight of your day. You’ve got some letters from the neighbor to your right about the noise, but you don’t think you’re being that loud. Plus, the police haven’t been called yet so you’re going to continue to have fun with Dean. One Friday night, you leave the apartment with your trash in hand. The only reason you’re going out is because you know Dean has his brother over.

You don’t think he’d interrupt his evening with his brother to get you, but you’re about to be proven wrong.

Dean’s door opens and he steps into the hallway with a gun in hand.

“Y/N!”

You barely have time to turn around before he’s shooting at you. You squeal and try to run away but think better of it and turn back to Dean. You swing the trash bag around to try and deflect some of the bullets, but most of them hit you. Dean jumps back into his apartment when you run after him.

“Not fair, Winchester! I’m unarmed,” you laugh.

Dean opens the door but holds up one hand to show you he’s calling a truce right now.

“If I win this next round, you gotta go on a date with me.”

“What if I win?”

He smirks and leans against the doorframe. “You’re not gonna win.”

“You’re going to feel bad when I do.” You turn to leave when Dean shoots your ass. “Oh, it’s on!”

You take the trash out and are on your way back when you spot Dean in front of the elevator when it opens. You didn't know that the next round would happen now.

“No, this isn’t fair!” you squeal.

He lunges at you but you dodge his attempts to hit you. You take off running down the hallway while laughing, and he runs after you. The logical thing would be to go inside your apartment, but you’re not thinking clearly. All you’re thinking about is getting the hell away from Dean. The first thing that pops into your head is to go inside his apartment.

“Why are you in my apartment?” he laughs. He opens the door and walks inside. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Truce, Dean,” you laugh.

“Okay, fine.”

You come out of hiding. “Really?”

Dean smirks and shoots you once in the stomach. “Nope. I win.”

“No, you cheated! That’s not fair!”

“There were no rules, sweetheart. So, I guess I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven for dinner. Sounds good?”

You can’t help but smile at him. He’s making it so damn hard to be mad. Not like you were ever mad.

“Fine. Seven.”

Dean watches you enter your apartment with a smile. He can’t wait for tomorrow night. It’s all that’s going to be on both of your minds. Tomorrow comes faster than you think, and you’re just about ready for the date. You’re putting the finishing touches on your hair when you get a notification from Ring.

“Hey, I’m almost ready. I’ll be out in a minute,” you say into the app.

“I told you I was going to win,” he smirks.

You shake your head with a smile and pin up the last piece of hair. You’re dressed in a pastel pink silk shirt with black jeans that don’t look like jeans. You barely have on any makeup because it’s hot and you don’t want it to melt under the humidity. You grab your purse and join Dean in the hallway who takes a step back from shock at how good you look.

“You look… beautiful. Wow.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Winchester,” you smile. “Where are going?”

“Somewhere woodsy.”

“I wore my good silk for this. Should I change?”

“We won’t be getting out of the car.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead the way when you feel something hit your back. You gasp and turn to see Dean holding a smaller Nerf gun he must have been hiding in his jacket pocket. You lunge at him to playfully fight when Dean puts his hands up in defense.

“Shh, shh.” He points to the neighbor at the end of the hallway with his gun. “This neighbor fucking hates us.”

“He’s written me so many letters about us,” you chuckle.

“That wasn’t him. That was me.”

“You bitch,” you laugh.

Dean escorts you to the parking garage where a beautiful ‘67 Impala is. Normally, your dates are spent in a movie theater, a restaurant, or someone’s house. Never have you ever gotten takeout food and eaten it on a cliff overlooking the city. Dean is a lot of things but boring isn’t one of them. He’s nothing like your ex-boyfriends, but maybe that’s a good thing.

“So, I’m assuming that tall man I see you with is your brother?”

“Yeah. His name is Sam. We’re retired. He has a family while I’m just trying to keep busy.”

“Retired? You can’t be more than thirty-five. What did you do before?”

“Thirty-seven, actually. We traveled the country and helped people who needed it. You know, pests and stuff like that. We got a hefty inheritance from our family, so we are able to live on that.”

“You don’t have any hobbies or anything?” you ask and take a bite of food.

“I like working on cars. I got a job as a mechanic. What about you?”

“I work at a law firm as a criminal attorney. Or I’m trying to be one. I’m still in my internship at the firm. You know, shadowing people and getting to know the ropes. I just got my degree even at thirty-four.”

“It’s never too late to pursue your dreams.”

“You got that right.”

This date has been more interesting than any of the ones you’ve been on in the past because of Dean. You connect more with him than you have in all of your relationships. The date only lasts an hour, and Dean takes you back home. It’s nice living across the hallway from your date, but you hope the relationship doesn’t tank. It’ll suck if you have to see him when there is heartbreak.

“That was fun,” Dean grins.

“It was. I had a good time with you.”

You stand in front of your Ring camera and look up at Dean through your lashes. A moment passes before Dean pulls you in by your waist. He doesn’t have to ask permission to kiss you because you’re already leaning in. Sparks fly is such a cliche thing but it’s exactly what’s happening. Something awakens inside of you, something you’ve never felt before.

Part of you is glad you did this in front of your Ring camera so that you can replay this moment over and over again.

Though, the night wouldn’t be complete without a bit of sneaky fun. As you’re kissing him, you carefully take out the small Nerf gun you stored in your purse for this exact moment. You aim at his chest and fire, and he freezes when he feels the foam bullet. He pulls away with a shocked look on his face.

“You’re not winning the next round.”

Dean can’t help but laugh. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes.”

He kisses you once more before opening his door for you. You can see this relationship lasting a long, long time.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural fiction #supernatural fan fiction

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macfrog · 21 days ago

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brother | joel & tommy

massive thank-you to @elliespuns who was kind enough to send me so many gorgeous photos of joel and tommy to choose from for this piece. i really, really appreciate it, lovely 🤍 forever indebted to and forever obsessed with you!

pairing: joel miller & tommy miller summary: tommy visits his brother's grave. warnings: lots of grief, brotherly love (but sad), spoilers for tlou2 word count: 900 words

masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤍 | posted first on ao3!

We brought you home in a mottled sheet.

Pathetic, right? I know it, brother. I’m sorry for it. Shit, I’m sorry for all of it.

It’s the best we could find – the best they could find. The kids, I mean. I couldn’t’ve found my own two feet when they eventually managed to wake me. The room swelled into focus and everything was doubled, everything swaying side to side, all violent like.

I could hardly string a sentence together. My head felt heavy with blood, hearing still shot to hell. The first thing I did was look for you.

And oh, Jesus, Joel, did I see you.

I spat the words out in a sob. Be careful with him, I said. I couldn’t get to my feet quick enough; couldn’t reach you with my shaking hands. That’s my goddamn brother, you hear?

He’s my brother.

They found an old pallet and made a sled out of it. We tied it to Old Beardy’s breastplate and let him lead you home. Figured the old timer’s used to the weight of you by now, right?

He kept shaking his head the whole way, kept huffing these deep, achy breaths. I’d never heard him do that before – none of us had. Like he was in pain, almost. I don’t know if horses know grief like we do, Joel, but it sure seemed like he knew. He just…knew.

The gray lump of you jolted and jerked behind him. The more I looked, the more I felt like throwing up, and still – I couldn’t look away from you.

The shape of your head – this crimson bloom where your skull had been broken. Square shoulders, sturdy chest. Long legs and boots still laced – the way you once taught me. Make bunny ears, twist ‘em around each other. Yeah, just like that. Now, pull.

Tall frame, protective frame. Used to plant yourself between me and anything you thought might hurt me. Used to wrestle with me in the backyard, stomach my damn windmill punches like they were nothing.

Man, I don’t know how you ever taught me to throw a half-decent one, but you did. Mom would call us inside and you’d pat my back and say good job, little brother.

Good job. What kinda fucking job did I do this time, huh? When it mattered? Where was I, when my brother needed me most?

On my goddamn ass, that’s where. Blacked out. I couldn’t get to you, no matter how hard I tried.

I tried, Joel. I swear to you, I tried.

It was all of it, all at once. The blizzard, the woman, the room – Christ, that room. So much blood I felt it lining the inside of my lungs. So much that I can still smell it, taste it, like it’s become me. Like everything I look at is tinged red; the color of rust, the color of rage.

The room, where I became just the one. Lost something in my sleep. Hit the ground with a heavy thud, swam back to the surface to find I was short. Something taken. Something stolen.

And I’ve been without you before, Joel, but at least I always got to give you a piece of my mind on the way out.

You remember summer camp, that year I was real homesick? I don’t know what it was. Maybe just knowing you were all those miles away. You remember I wrote you about a hundred times? Jesus. I know you’re laughing, too.

I spent that whole summer with a smile pinned to my face. Counting down the days. I’d turn over in my sleeping bag, pick at the skin on my thumbs and wonder what you were up to. Wonder if you were missing me as much. Wonder if you’d thought about me at all that day.

Well, here I am. Wondering much the same.

I miss you, Joel. I don’t know what to do with that. There ain’t no bus home at the end of this; no big brother and his dirt bike waiting for me in Austin. It’s only been a week, I know that – but my ears won’t stop ringing, and I haven’t stopped looking for you.

It wakes me at night. This pain in my chest, like I’m swimming for that surface over and over, and all I ever do is drown. I wake saying your name. The doctors say it’s just bad dreams, just part of the process, but I know what it really is. I’m calling on you, and you never come.

It’s about damn time I realized you ain’t never gonna come. You’re never coming back. Not to me, not to this place. You’re on a path I can’t follow, brother. We’re on our own from here on out.

Goddamn it, Joel. Why the hell’d it have to be you?

Maybe if we’d gone a different route that day. Maybe if we’d spent a little longer in the stables. We were tryna outrun the weather, sure, but we could’ve spared a few minutes. Shit, I would’ve spared anything, if it meant I’d still have my brother.

Sun’s coming up over the mountains. I better get going. Got a mighty long journey ahead of me. I’ll make things right, Joel, I swear.

Go on, now. I’ll bet your Sarah’s waiting.

See you round, brother.

#joel miller #tommy miller #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel x tommy #the last of us part 2 #tlou 2 #joel miller fic

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cheqorb · 8 days ago

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More Between Us.

You’ve always been just friends, but they can’t ignore how their heart races whenever you’re near.

FEAT. Isagi, Bachira

NOTES. probably my most tooth-rotting post yet! annnd I totally forgot I had this in my drafts Bring this duo back to me though pleasj

ISAGI is easygoing, and mild-mannered by nature (though perhaps his rivals disagree on that). It’s literally harder to not be friends with him. Your relationship was equally good, nothing particularly special and not abysmal. The type of friends who might talk on the way to class if you spot each other, but never go out of their way to do so either.

If asked, you wouldn’t even say best friends; he’s too busy with his teammates, and you have your own friend group.

See, Isagi enjoys thinking about stuff in a logical sense, using reason and evidence to support his ‘theory’. Both in real life and in football.

So before he even comes to the conclusion of a crush, firstly, there’s the small details he picks up about you.

Your eyes shift colour slightly if the sun hits them right. But, he reckons that happens with everyone’s eyes. Your eyes crinkle upwards when you smile, and maybe even dimples form on your cheeks as you do so. He likes seeing people smile, and yours is… in a way, cuter than anyone else’s? If he had to rank smiles, he’d put yours near the top. All hypothetical, obviously!

He’s always been observant, even as a kid, so Isagi figured he was just feeling a little more insightful as of late but it doesn’t stop there.

Suddenly, Isagi finds himself unconsciously lingering in places he knows you'll be. He tells himself it's just coincidence, but deep down, he has a feeling that he’s seeking you out more often.

Practicing with his team becomes a lot more strategic, with him making sure he's near your usual route home (not in a stalker way, at least, he hopes not), and just on time so that he can ‘bump into you’ and walk together.

And he lives in the complete opposite direction, so, while you don’t mind his presence, you find it a little odd.

Isagi begins to remember every little thing you mention, even the small stuff, like your favorite snack or the song you've been listening to on repeat. Next thing you know, he’s casually surprising you with them, acting like it’s no big deal but loves it when you get visibly excited about it.

He fumbles with his words a little more around you now, overthinking simple things that never used to bother him. It’s not like he’s shy (actually one of the best communicators out of everyone), he just doesn’t want to mess up or make you think he’s weird!

If he says something that could be interpreted as mildly creepy, he’s actually the first one to call it out and apologise over and over again. Beats himself up about it at home, even if you thought it was mildly funny that he knew what you were doing last week Tuesday at around 5:06PM…

When his teammates joke about him having a crush, he laughs it off, but there’s always a little pink in his cheeks that he hopes you don’t notice.

He'll start texting you first more often, just to share something funny or ask for your opinion on something trivial. It’s an excuse, really, just to have another reason to talk to you.

Also catches himself smiling whenever he sees a notification from you pop up on his phone, and his heart does a little flip when he reads your replies, no matter how mundane they are. Literally a “hey, I’m bored. Wanna hang out” is enough for him to lose sleep over it.

When you two do eventually go to said hang out, he pays extra attention to you: whether it's making sure you’re comfortable, or that you’ve got enough to eat, he’s always subtly looking out for you.

Despite all these signs, Isagi convinces himself it’s better this way — giving you small hints for you to understand rather than straight-up confessing. If you notice them and accept, great! If you notice and don’t accept, that’s fine too, he hopes you can remain friends though!

If you’re completely oblivious, well… he’ll muster up the courage to say it outright.

You and BACHIRA are like two peas in a pod together! Where there’s one, the other’s probably lurking nearby somewhere. Every second of every day seems to be spent with each other (and to anybody with common sense, you two already look like you’re dating).

When the crush starts, he thinks about you more than he already did, if that were even possible. Every little thing you do seems to make his heart race, but he sorta brushes it off as just excitement from being with his best friend.

Kind of a trickier situation than Isagi’s one this way though, because now you’re so close, Bachira doesn’t even feel that different about you. He might not even realise it’s romantic until his mother points it out in the midst of another one of his rambling sessions. About you, that is.

I won’t sugarcoat it; he’s nervous if anything. You’re one of the few friends he has and genuinely seem to care and like about him and if he ruins your friendship over his feelings, he’d be devastated.

But he’s back to his usual self and gains a little confidence after some encouragement from others!

Bachira’s clinginess ramps up a notch, but it’s so typical of him that you might not even notice. He’s constantly draping an arm around you, leaning on you, or just being in your personal space as much as possible.

Willing to share anything and everything with you. For example, if it’s snacks he’s got, he’s always picking out the best pieces just for you and handing them over with a cute smile.

Bachira finds himself staring at you a lot more now. Sometimes you’ll catch him and he’ll just laugh it off with a playful comment, but on the inside, his mind is racing with thoughts he can’t quite put into words.

When you talk, he listens with full attention, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more tender. He hangs onto your every word like it’s the most important thing he’s ever heard — and you could literally be talking about a bug you saw on the sidewalk this morning.

If you ever need anything, Bachira’s the first one to jump in and help, no questions asked. He’d go out of his way just to make you smile, even if it means a truckload of extra effort on his part.

Sometimes, he hints at deeper feelings in his usual roundabout way — in little jokes that might just have a hint of truth behind them. But he always plays it off as just that, a joke.

If you’re feeling down, he’s the first to notice, offering comfort in the form of goofy antics or just sitting with you in silence if that’s what you want.

If you ever confront him directly and ask if he feels something more than just being friends, Bachira might just spill everything in a rush of words; unable to keep his feelings hidden any longer. But until then, he’s content simply being by your side, even if it means he isn’t being entirely honest to himself.

#cheq. writes #cheq. bllk #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x gender neutral reader #bllk x reader #isagi x you #bachira x you #bllk fluff

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goldsbitch · 2 months ago

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Not on the menu

Making out in public is not something to be shameful, right?

light smut, minors DNI, angst

note: this is my first Franco fic. this man came, served and what are we suppose to do?!

When it feels this good, it's worth breaking few rules.

You and Franco. Very well protected love affair. A fling. Just two young people who somehow end up in each other's beds whenever the opportunity arises.

Working in F2 as one of the production assistants was more exciting than one might think. Everyone would always praise F1, the size of the teams, the budgets, the glam surrounding it. F2 was different, more loose and less on the spotlight. Full of professionals, who just like drivers, worked their asses off just for a chance to progress into F1. But you were just so young, just starting and unlike with the drivers, you had no rush, plenty of time for that in the next years. It was all about learning, getting to know people and also, occasionally, having some good fun. It's hard to keep young people on a leash. Lot of travel involved, hotel rooms and many people mingling around, leads to just one thing. It wasn't special or albeit scandalous to fool around with a fellow crew member, in fact many marriages started like that, no matter the rank or department. Life on the road has its habits.

So when you first ended up on a dance floor with the ever-so-charming Franco at one of the opening events for F2, it was not such a surprise that you ended at his hotel room. Way less wondering eyes and almost no glam was at these evenings, the exact opposite of F1.

By some miracle, you managed to keep it a secret, apart from few closest friends, who served as an excuse for you two to actually hang out together. These few trusted souls witnessed their fair share of tipsy make outs and laughed collectively at your hickeys, which turned out to be his speciality. You never texted, never addressed your fling when sober. Deep down you knew you were curious to see how he was as a serious partner. But he never gave off that kind of a vibe. So you protected yourself, remained cool and decided that this was the peak your relation would ever be, and that was ok enough.

"So what about you and Franco?" a friend of you both asked you, once again. You hated when she did that. In her mind, it would be a great idea to have two of her friends together. But the truth was, she was way closer with him than you were. Nothing wrong with that, but it only reminded you of how shallow your interaction were. In order to keep you dignity while fooling around with a player, you pretended to be one as well. "You know how these things are, it's just physical. I don't think he's the kind of person I'd like to date." False. You knew that, but..! You stayed on the ground, he was just a bit out of your league. Simple as that. Soon enough he was gonna catch the eye of some model and you'll be old news. The whole thing would be way worse if anyone knew that you would actually be open to at least try and date him. It was hard to stop the daydreaming sometimes. "Yeah, that makes sense," was the only thing your friend, disappointed by your response, answered. You only wondered if she had conversations like this with him as well about you.

Life was good that one evening in August. At the time, you had no idea it will the last evening of that era. It was one of the typical dinners the wealthier members of the teams organized, a nice chill place to wind down after stressful days. You were sat few places from Franco, who was charming as ever. Raining smiles on everyone and stealing glances with you.

A text notification - Bathroom?

You gulped, locked eyes with him and gave a small nod. His smile was probably crafted specifically for you, somewhere in the depths of hell. Impossible to resist.

He got up and you followed a minute later, giving a knowing look to your mutual friend. She understood and happily covered for you in case someone else caught on.

It wasn't exactly the right thing to do, lock yourself in a room dedicated for nursing mothers. But better than blocking a bathroom.

"Aren't you a little old to be in this room?" you asked when you joined him and secured the door behind you. He was leaning over a counter, fingers tapping on the top. "I can't help it, I am hungry," Franco responded and gestured you to come closer to him. With a challenging look, you took few steps towards him. "This is a restaurant, you're at the right place."

"The things I want are not on the menu." He was done playing sneaking around and crashed his lips onto yours, as if to prove his hunger. He was just too good with his tongue. Taking you, like his little victim, making you forget the outside world still existed. His hand went to grab your neck, behind your ear, because by then he had figured out that keeping you in check was the thing that made your knees weak. His lips were locked with yours, in heated frenzy, not allowing any breath to be wasted. You knew how to play the game as well, and with a soft bite into his lower lip, drawing a gasp from him, you pulled away slightly, not allowing him to take full control. "Oh," he said, trying to steal another kiss from you while you pulled away more with satisfied smile. "Is this how it is now?" he continued, tone laced with intrigue and challenge. Your tongue reached to lick his lips once again. His hand suddenly lessened the pull towards him. "Oh, hermosa," he whispered, "two can play this game." Butterflies occupied your stomach. He stepped back and to your questioning look responded with another bloody wink. And then, then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up in the air and sat on the counter. You gasped, only amusing him more. Lost for words, you only raised your eyebrows. "Better," he said and with audacity only young boys have lifted your shift up. Without much of a thought you put your arms up and helped him get you slightly more naked. His eyes were shamelessly focus on your chest. "Almost there," he said and gestured towards your bra. "Go on. Take this horrible thing off." You chuckled, because as charming and suave he was, taking a bra off was a moment where he failed each time. Desire fueled you into making this quick. Now that you were sat, his eyes were at a similar lever to your boobs and there was something hot about his hungry look, watching you undress even more. Once you were finally fully bare, he observed you and the locked eyes with you once again.

"Pretty," was the only thing that he said before putting his lips on your left nipple for a gentle peck and then on the right one, which received a light bite. He decided to stay focused on that one, few kisses here and there and began to suck on it while his hand pinched the left one. Arrows of pleasure flew into your lower belly. He knew your weakness, he must have because this was sending you into other dimensions. Anything that feels this ecstatic would make anyone crumble. Whatever he did seemed to always work on you. He wasted no time with gentle touches. Not enough time for that. After nearly sending you over the edge with his lips dancing around and sucking on your nipple, moved a bit upwards and went for his signature move - marking your breasts with hickeys so purple it would take a week to heal. You bend your head backwards, trying to contain any loud noises your body wanted you to make in reaction to his actions. Another twirl around your sensitive nipple, bite into your skin and a hard squeeze. You did not want him to stop, too deep in it to think straight. But that must have been his plan from the beginning, because he put you on edge and then back away. You almost let a soft "No..." escape your mouth. With a puzzled look you slowly came down and remembered you were still in public. Heavy breaths and you gulped your way back to normal. He stepped back a bit and observed his mark on you. With an approving nod, he had the audacity to fix his boner up so that it was not so obvious. "Looking forward to seeing you later?" he asked with a tone that indicated the answer was obvious. You just nodded and reached for your bra, hoping his hickey was low enough it would not be visible. But, he had never made that kind of a mistake. You hopped down and gave him one more kiss, a slow and gentle this time, before he parted back to the dinner table. You joined in a minute, after fixing yourself up and trying to make your cheeks less red. Thankfully, there was only one another amused person when you came back to the table. Your friend raised her brows at you and drank her wine as if nothing ever happened.

Everything shower, hair on point, favorite perfume - you were all set and ready for how the evening would inevitably progress. This time you even made sure to clean your room. You got too comfortable with your expectations. Watching his every move, you noticed immediately when his expression changed from a casual smile to focused frown when reading a text on his phone. Was it something serious? Would he confide in later, sometimes it happened by accident. Secrets shared among tangled sheets. He got up and sent you a cheeky wink. You had to bite your cheek in order to stop the smile your body wanted to respond with, a small bruise burning inside your bra.

It took you fifteen minutes to realize he was not coming back from his phone call. You had his number, you could easily text him. But you didn't. And just like that, he was off to F1.

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #franco colapinto x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot #formula 1 smut

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bambisnc · 2 months ago

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i guess the time has come [ft. p.hn]

-> recap : “hanniii,” iroha says, throwing an arm around your best friend’s shoulder, “i can’t believe you left your ~girlfriend~ moka here all alone… she’s been pining after you for ages now~” you quietly slip out before you can hear her response.

pairing : bsf!hanni x f!reader genre : angst uwu cw/tw : girl idk i tried to make it sad + uneditted <3 wc : 0.6k (chat did u notice how the number of words keeps decreasing ...)

it’s raining.

it’s raining and you’re still in school long after the bell signaling the end of the day; embroiled in the committee plans for the upcoming school festival.

it’s raining when you see hanni’s lone figure walking back through the school gates. she doesn’t see you though, her eyes too busy focusing on her phone screen.

a minute later, you hear a familiar notification from your own phone.

● hanniiee 😏 guess who’s at school rn …

● you well. me

● hanniiee WHAT WHERE WHY

● you dumbass look up

her head swoops up, and you swear you could almost count the stars upon stars in her eyes which look around in search of you.

you wave to catch her attention.

and when she waves back, for a second it’s just the two of you in the entire world.

hanni races over to meet you and you almost want to scold her because the ground is already wet – what if she slips or something? but somehow the sight of her eagerness is enough to quell all the other feelings bubbling inside you.

“yn~? jesus did you zone out on me?” hanni teasingly asks.

you shake your head, “i wouldn’t dare.”

“mwah <3 that’s more like it. hey so why are you in school so late anyway?”

before you reply, you take a moment to look at your best friend. hanni shakes the umbrella slightly to rid it of the water.

when she looks up, she doesn’t meet your eyes. she’s looking at someone else.

“ah-! moka, there you are! i can’t believe you’d make me come all the way here just to get you an umbrella.”

you don’t turn around.

“pft. why? am i not allowed to disturb the ever-too-busy-for-me pham hanni for a teeny-tiny little favor?~”

hanni walks behind you, shoulder brushing yours ever so slightly. her clear laugh is what finally propels you to turn around and stop staring at the blank wall in front of you.

“well~ i might make an exception for you. just because you’re a cutie <3”

“my my, such an honor isn’t it? oh right! i wanted to ask your opinions on the dance my club members and i were preparing for the festival!!”

“oooh dance~? yeah you did mention that earlier … ”

?..

she and hanni go on talking about something; you’d be damned if anything actually registered in your brain. you can’t really bring yourself to interrupt them either.

but anymore of this,... you don’t think you’ll be able to handle.

“hi moka..! um also hanni my work’s already done so i’ll be leaving now-” it’s genuinely nothing less than a herculean task for you to be able to layer your words with a thick coating of nonchalance.

it’s all you can do to act normal. at least for now.

at least in front of her.

“already?” hanni whines, “aw can’t you stay longer? what’ll i do here without you :( ~”

you’d do anything for her.

“i really can’t,” you smile, “moka.. you’ll keep hanni company though, yeah?”

she looks shocked to hear you say her name. to be fair, you are too.

“yeah i’ll- i’ll be here.”

hanni, bless her heart, immediately offers you her umbrella, “here-! take this, it’s still pouring out there.” the same umbrella which she had come all the way here to give to moka.

“wouldn't you two need it though?” you ask.

“no.” her hand is looped through moka’s. you don’t remember since when they were standing like that.

since when they even became a concept.

(you know you’re overreacting but wasn’t it supposed to be the two of you against the world?)

“i think we’ll manage without, it’s fine really.”

hanni’s smile bids you farewell.

you leave the umbrella right by the gate where hanni’s bag was kept. you couldn’t take it and leave the 2 of them umbrella-less in good conscience.

you also can’t help thinking of another universe.. one in which she’d run after you, through the rain. like a scene from the one of those cheesy rom coms you used to binge all the time.

… looking up at the grey sky, you’re almost grateful for the rain and how it streams down your face.

notes : 🤷🤷 + [m.list] + YALL CLICK ON THE LINK PLEASE song rec : te quiero - kiof wbk

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

#order's up~! 📋⋆𐙚 #ice creams.♡︎🍧#div by : roseraris n pics from : dojeoies #newjeans #newjeans x reader #newjeans fluff #newjeans hanni #hanni x reader #hanni newjeans #hanni pham x reader #new jeans x reader #hanni pham #pham hanni #pham hanni x reader

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crayooongle · 4 months ago

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Sweet Mistake (1.9k)

akaashi keiji x (f)reader

cw: unprotected sex, (f)receiving, boob play, fingering, breeding, public sex (car sex)

pet names: princess, pretty girl, baby

summary:

you accidentally send your best friend, Akaashi, a frivolous photo you took in the shower while you were at work. He couldn’t be more grateful by your honest mistake.

Your mind was racing, you had about a million and one things to do before the week was over and not a single thing was completed. Work seemed like it had been piling up on you no matter how much you got done. You laid back in your office chair and slowly rubbed your temples with one hand before taking a sip of your coffee with the other. You were desperately trying to calm yourself down and brainstorm some ideas for your next work project.

You sat up straight as you heard what you thought might be your supervisor treading down the hall. Unluckily for you, you forgot about the hot espresso still in your hand. The sudden movement made some of the coffee shake out the cup and right onto your white button up.

“Shit,” you grumbled as you looked down at the damage. Great. Your new button up was completely ruined and you didn’t have another to change into.

You let out a frustrated sigh, snatching your phone off your desk. You opened up your messages to see who could come drive by and give you a quick ride home to get a new shirt in your time of need. You didn’t dare to drive to work due to the crazy traffic in the morning, alongside having to pay for parking every day. You figured taking the train was much cheaper despite taking longer— at least you can sleep on the train the way to work.

You: heyy kaashiii, you think you could do me a huge favor?

You prayed your friend would be quick to respond. I mean, today was his day off from his tedious job as an editor so theres no reason he wouldnt be able to help? You thought to yourself before your phone lit up with a new notification

Akaashi: of course, what’d you need?

You: well i have a bit of a problem and i’d really appreciate if you could come pick me up

[attachment: 1 image]

You thought you had snapped a picture of your shirt covered in coffee and sent it but it seemed like the lack of sleep had gotten to you.

Akaashi: Y/N… did you mean to send me that?

You opened the message with confusion written all over your face, you quickly looked back at the picture and realized it was a spicy photo you’d taken while in the shower the other day. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you drowned in embarrassment. You just couldnt believe you accidentally sent the most inappropriate picture in your camera roll to your friend. You let yourself sulk in shame and had completely forgotten about responding when your phone went off again.

Akaashi: doesnt matter, ill be there in 15

You had your location shared with Akaashi, he was well aware you were at work. You put your phone down and sunk into your flimsy work chair.

Akaashi had always been there for you, you two had been friends since high school. You always thought he was cute and sweet but never thought about making a move on him. You wanted to focus on work and didn’t want to ruin the strong friendship you two had. Of course, your mind would occasionally wander and you’d daydream of the moment that Akaashi would finally just push you against your bed and do whatever he wanted to get himself off with your body. But you had a feeling that day wasn’t gonna be coming any time soon —you naively thought.

You packed up some your things and sent a quick message to your boss, letting her know of the incident and that you’d come in later in the day to finish up your work. After, you tried your best to collect your thoughts and figure out what to you say when Akaashi arrived. You calmly made your way out the building and waited out in front, where you had assumed Akaashi would be waiting— you were right.

You tried not to make any sort of eye contact with him but you still peeked in the mirror of his car to make sure it was him. Oddly enough, you noticed his cheeks were flushed and his eyes laid low. Your eyes glanced down to notice a tent in his pants. You immediately looked away and felt your face getting hot as you awkwardly made your way to the back seat. As soon as you got in you could feel the thick tension in the air.

You cleared your throat in attempt to break the silence,

“Do you mind if i um…” you stuttered before starting over again, “do you have an extra shirt that i can put on until we get to my house,” you asked, while feeling another wave of embarrassment hit you. The coffee was seeping onto your chest through your shirt and the you hated the feeling of it sticking onto your bare skin.

“Yeah, i- uh,” akaashi quickly grabbed the shirt in the seat beside him and handed it to you, “here. I’ll pull up into a parking lot so no one sees you get changed”.

You couldn’t see but Akaashi’s bulge was only growing with every second that passed by. He was a bit grateful you didn’t sit next to him or else you would’ve really noticed how hard he was for you. Maybe it was a bit vulgar for him to think this but he was secretly celebrating your little mistake. He’d never admit this but Akaashi had a huge crush on you. He always looked up to how hardworking you were, you were his motivation to keep going.

Not to mention you were one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen. He always had to stop himself from blatantly checking you out when you’d go on friendly dates together. He always wanted to be respectful, but deep down he wanted nothing more than to rip all your clothes off and fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but his name.

Akaashi pulled up into a nearby parking lot as promised. He tried to find a spot that was the least crowded, luckily today wasn’t a busy day for most people so the lot was pretty much empty.

You couldn’t shake off what you saw earlier, was Akaashi really acting like this because of picture you sent him? Maybe this was the time to test how he really felt about you. You cleared your throat to try and grab his attention. You looked up at the rear view mirror only for your eyes to meet Akaashi’s. You unbuttoned your shirt tauntingly slow while maintaining eye contact. Akaashi couldn’t help but let out a low “fuck”. It was still loud enough that you could hear the desperation in his voice.

“yknow kaashi, i had a super stressful day at work today,” your words came out smooth and sultry, it was just enough to drive him crazy.

Akaashi immediately unbuckled his seatbelt before opening his mouth to respond, “how about you let me take care of you and relieve some of that stress”. Before you could react Akaashi climbed to the backseat to join you.

He pulled you in for a kiss and without breaking it, grabed your waist to lead you onto his lap. Desperate for some sort of relief, Akaashi moved your hips down onto his clothed-throbbing dick. You let out a light moan in between the kiss and continued to grind onto him. Akaashi slowly moved one hand up your skirt while the other moved to your chest to lightly squeeze one of your beautiful tits. He traced his fingers against your— already wet pussy. You whine and roll your hips into his hands. Akaashi pulls away from the kiss to watch your face contort from this new found pleasure.

You try to close your eyes to avoid the intense eye contact but every time you do he completely takes his hands off you.

“Eyes on me baby,” he coos.

You begrudgingly obey his demands. You truly wanted nothing more than to take advantage of this moment, have him make you finish. He gives a faint smirk at your obedience and slides his fingers into your underwear. You let out a wince as he slowly pushes his fingers right into your aching pussy. He switches between fingering you and sliding his cold fingers against your clit, listening closely as to what evokes the most noise out of you. Your moans were so lewd and whiney, he couldn’t help but lightly palm himself through his pants.

He moves his hands out of your underwear just for a moment and you pout while staring at him.

“Take these off for me-?” He gives a slight tug on your panties before pulling away. You waste no time in peeling your soaking underwear off alongside your skirt.

“Thank you my pretty girl”.

You only have time to let out a soft “mhm” before Akaashi pulls you back into a kiss. He leads your hands to his pants, allowing you to get an idea of how big he is. He pants against your soft lips, the kiss was filled with nothing but passion, need and lust.

Akaashi lifts your hips up for a moment so he can move his jeans and boxers down just enough that his dick slips out. He positions himself right at your entrance, you slowly move down onto his thick cock. You gasp at how he's stretching you out, it’s simply too much. Despite that you love the feeling too much to ask him to stop.

Akaashi gives you a second to adjust before fully pulling you down onto his cock. You whine at the sensation and grab onto his strong shoulders for support. He starts off at a slow pace, he doesn’t wanna hurt you after all.

“Akaashi please,” you beg.

Thats all he needed to hear.

Akaashi gets a better grip at your hips before drilling right into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to fuck you again. The way your soft walls are squeezing his dick has him in pure bliss. He lets out soft moans under his breath and continues to slam you repeatedly up and down against his needy cock.

“fuck- it feels so good Y/N,” he groans into your neck.

You just whimper and moan in response, the way he’s fucking you has you unable to form sentences.

“Youre doing so good at taking it princess,” he continues to praise in between moans.

“I needa cum soon kaashi” you breathlessly mumble. Your legs were shaking as you got closer and closer to your release. You were trying to hold back but he just kept fucking you right in your sweet spot, you couldn’t handle it.

“Yeah? You wanna cum right on my dick?” He asks while pushing himself even deeper inside your cunt.

“Yes please, I need to kaashi,” you blabber out.

Akaashi speeds up as he gets closer to his release. He leaves a trail of kissing on your neck and collar bone as he viciously pounds into you.

“ahhh ha shit- akaashi im gonna cum!” You cry out as your legs shake.

“Come’on cum for me my pretty girl”.

Almost immediately after, you cum all over Akaashi’s dick. He tries to hold back but feeling you throb against his dick makes him cum right inside your pussy.

You’re both a mess; sticky, sweaty and breathless. The car windows are completely fogged up now.

“Theres no way we just did that,” you mutter.

Akaashi flashes a smiles before going to pepper a few kisses on your neck and face.

“Round two?” He asked in between kisses.

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zayne-li · 4 months ago

Text

Heartbreaker Attacks!

Rating: Explicit

Length: 2.8k words

Here it is. The sex pollen fic. I forget who posted about this, but whoever it was, here you go.

I’m currently in the middle of the woods when I get a notification on my hunters watch that there is a wanderer attack nearby. I follow the coordinates through the underbrush, ducking under branches and avoiding rocks, and when I emerge, I’m in… Zayne’s backyard?

Well, sort of, the entire thing is enclosed in a high fence, but the location ping on my watch tells me that the wanderer is still ahead of me. I don't actually know if he’s home right now, but the fact that as I walk around the perimeter, it seems to be pinging from inside gets me worried fast. From inside, I can definitely hear some kind of commotion going on. But why would Heartbreaker attack a house randomly like this…? No, it wouldn’t just show up to destroy property, I decide, Zayne must be inside. At that moment I hear the distinct and familiar sound of Zayne’s ice spikes crackling and lodging themselves in something, possibly the wall. Luckily, only a few weeks ago, Zayne gave me the code to his front door, deciding it was “only fair” because I’d given him my apartment key. You know, just in case of “emergencies”. No other reason.

This is the first time I’ve used it though, and for a moment I’m not sure I can remember it. Was it 4102? No… 4210? No… Shit! 0412? Yes! The lock on the door blinks green and I push it open before pausing for a second, realizing something I hadn’t before.

0412? That’s… My birthday.

I blink and shake my head a little. Not important right now!

The sounds are coming from the living room, up ahead, and I think I even catch a glimpse of the little pink and purple wanderer. I can definitely hear it screeching, then from through the doorway, I see another ice spike whiz past. Heartbreaker cries, there’s the sound of something breaking, and then a heaving gasp that sounds distinctly like Zayne, before a series of hacking coughs.

When I skid to a stop in the room, Heartbreaker is gone, and with a brief glance at my watch, I see that the metaflux has dissipated. Which means that Zayne took it down. At least for now. Another glance around the room, and Zayne is leaning against an armchair with one hand, while his elbow covers his mouth. He’s still coughing.

“Are you okay?!” I ask, trying not to sound panicked as he doubles over, now holding himself up by his elbow on the armchair. In just a few long strides, I’m at his side, hands hovering over his back, trying to assess what might be wrong. The first thing I notice is that he’s breathing hard and he’s flushed, though maybe that’s just the exertion from fighting. What I expect to see is maybe a bit of frost on his fingertips or creeping up his neck, but instead, when I place my hand tentatively on the small of his back, I realize he’s burning up. Also… The moment my fingers make contact with his body, he moans. I jerk back almost on instinct, my brow furrowing in confusion. Is he injured there? Zayne rolls his head to the side, and I can see better how he looks, red and panting. “I’m,” cough, “fine… You certainly acted quickly.”

He doesn’t look fine. His pupils are blown, and he has a hazy look in his eyes. My concern grows. I blink at him. “Did you just…”

He looks away, blushing brighter, “... Yes, I believe so.”

“I think you should sit down.” I touch his shoulder and arm to guide him, trying to get him to walk around the chair to sit down, but that touch too has a shiver going through his whole body before he tenses up, though he doesn’t try to stop me from guiding him into the seat. “Are you in pain?”

“No, I… No, not pain.” He gets out after a second, his expression pinched, almost frustrated, and he seems to be trying to avoid looking at me, keeping his gaze settled firmly on the ground and away from me as he clasps both hands in his lap. Maybe I’m imagining things, but I think I can see a bulge in his pants where his legs press together. “Let me get you some water.” “Yes… Water.” He’s distracted. When I return with a glass of water, his condition has already deteriorated drastically. He’s almost panting, one hand gripping the arm of the couch, the other in a fist on his thigh. He’s burning up when I get close, and he seems to have attempted to adjust himself in his pants in my absence. I feel a brief flash of anger go through me, just knowing that he’s in a state like this, and he’s arrogant enough to think he can get away without me noticing. I set the glass down, concerned, and drop to my knees in front of him, taking a hold of the hand on his leg. His eyes drift closed, and he moans softly. My voice is quiet, but firm. “Zayne, what did it attack you with?”

His face pinches more, and he swallows. “An aphrodisiac of some kind, I would assume, based on my symptoms. You… You should go. I’ll be fine. It’ll wear off.” “You’re an idiot if you think I’m just going to leave you here. Do you have any idea what will happen to you if this is left to work its way through your system?” He does. He’s seen patients exhibiting these same symptoms before, on rare occasions. In a hospital setting, there’s not much to do for them except keep their body temperature down and make sure they’re hydrated. From what he’s seen, detoxifying this particular poison is excruciatingly painful, regardless of the drug they're given to ease it. He should drink that water. “Yes.”

“Well so do I, so no, you’re not going to make me go anywhere right now.” I lean over him, hands on his thighs, and he suddenly looks up into my eyes, so needy, and whimpers. “You’d do the same thing if I was in your position, right?”

After a second, a short nod, though it looks like it pains him. “I would.”

“Then stop being a hypocrite.”

His eyes get a little wider as he looks up at me, “But what if I can’t co–”

“Don’t start that again.” I shoot him a look, and sigh at the worry on his face. My hand strokes his cheek and hair for a second, and it seems that’s all he really needs as he deflates a little, leaning into my palm and letting out a soft little grunt from the back of his throat.

I reach forward between his legs, and they seem to part for me almost instinctively. When my hands cups him through his trousers, his head falls back, and his hips rise up to meet me. The sound he makes as I squeeze down on him is a soft, high pitched moan. He’s still gripping the armrest with one hand, and I swear his knuckles are turning white already.

“Please… I need…” Already Zayne sounds a little wrecked, his voice low and desperate. The heat of his cock is heavy in my hand, and I squeeze down a little harder one more time, pulling another groan from him before I let go. “I know what you need.” I reassure him, and start to work on my clothes. My hunter’s uniform is a little complicated to get off, but the good news is that I’ve had a lot of practice. First the belts, then vest, boots, and in only a few seconds I’m shucking off the tight pants, leaving me only in my white button down. When I look up, I realize that Zayne has been drinking in the sight of me undressing the entire time, and one of his hands has now taken place of my own, where he seems to be gripping himself pretty damn tightly, enough that the veins and tendons on his hand have become more prominent than usual.

As I take a step closer to him, he reaches out, grabbing hold of me to touch me everywhere, and all pretense is lost to him. Squeezing at my ass, my hips, my thighs, everywhere he can reach until he has a strong enough grip to rut me against him. His head falls onto my shoulder, and he’s whining, wordless. I let him do that for a minute or two, locked against him in his strong arms while his hips move beneath me, and then I grab his arm to make him stop. Even though he could easily overpower me, he ceases desperately grinding himself on me, and looks up with wide eyes, blown out by his lust, like a puppy begging for food. Or maybe like he’s afraid he’s done something wrong, and is about to receive a scolding. I brace one arm on his chest, and with the other move back on his lap. He watches, rapt as I undo his pants and pull out his cock. It’s already leaking, red, and throbbing in my grip.

The first touch has him swearing quietly, hips moving into my hand. I squeeze down on the tip as I stroke upwards, and he lets out a broken sound, his body arching for a second. So I do it again, and again, watching him as his head rolls to the side, and he seems incapable of closing his mouth.

“Too hot…” He chokes out. And he is sweating, almost through his shirt already. Were he alone, I think, this is the point by now where he would have attempted to get himself into a cold shower.

“Let me help you then.”

I start undressing him, and it seems like every brush against him, clothed or not has him reacting, letting out little whines and moans, and he’s almost trembling with the effort to contain himself. Sometimes it even sounds like he’s trying to speak, but every plea comes out half formed. I offer encouragement to him until he’s completely bare, and help him stand so I can lay him down on the couch. I press my full weight on top of him. He’s about to lose his mind, his neck and back arching underneath me, hands tight on my waist.

“Hey,” I murmur against his throat, and he moans. He’s so hard that I can feel a wet sticky mess starting to form between us, “you still with me?” I ask him, against his lips, barely brushing against them with my own. Zayne just groans and captures my mouth in a bruising kiss, letting go of my hips to hold me by the back of neck to him. His tongue probes at my bottom lip, and he’s moaning so softly and so desperately that I feel a surge of heat between my legs. I open my mouth to him, and he moans louder, his tongue invading me the moment he’s given permission, licking into my mouth, like he’s trying to taste and memorize every part of it.

When he finally lets me go, he’s gasping, and his lips are now swollen, pink, and shiny with our shared spit.

It’s frankly, an amazing look on him.

“I’m here…” He pants, his voice hoarse as his dazed expression meets mine. I’ve never seen him like this before, it’s like he’s almost drunk on sex, and we haven’t even had it yet. “Just… Need you… Please…” Zayne begs, quiet and small, and he speaks slowly, like he’s unsure how to properly voice his own desires. For just a second, I’m overwhelmed by just how… cute he is. It’s my turn to swear under my breath, and I can’t help pulling him into another kiss, which he accepts gratefully.

I reach my hand between us, rising up on my hips and scooting forward to position myself over him. When I grab his cock he seems to finally realize what I’m doing, and for a second I’m worried he’s forgotten how to breathe, with the way he suddenly goes almost entirely still. His erection is slick already, and I use the mess of cum he’s made on himself to stroke him a few times, until his cock is coated in his own seed. Zayne’s head arches back against the cushion of the couch, and the leg he has braced on the floor moves inwards, jostling me a little as I press the tip of his cock against me. I rub it against me a few times, looking down at the debauched mess of himself that Zayne has already become, and fuck if I don’t feel myself almost gush between my legs.

“Please don’t tease me.” He sounds almost broken, begging as he tries to arch up into my cunt, whining when I place a hand on his hip to keep him still.

“I’m not, I promise.” I try to reassure him by rubbing my thumb against his skin, where I’ve braced myself on his chest. Then, I get his cock to catch on the rim of my entrance, and sink down all in one go. It nearly takes the breath out of my lungs, the sudden fullness and heat of him inside me, and I let out a few soft gasps.

“Oh, fuck…” Zayne whimpers beneath me, his voice high and thready. His hands twitch for a fraction of a second, and then he grabs at my waist, like he needs something to just ground him. I start to move, slowly at first, and watch his face screw up almost like he’s in pain, but I think really he’s just trying to stay still. My breath comes out heavier as I brace both hands on his chest and move on him faster, rolling my hips atop his own.

And God, it feels so good that I start to get lost in it myself a little, chasing my own pleasure with his cock, and when I look down at him I see him watching me, his mouth open, and he’s making the cutest little sounds with every movement, growing faster with each passing moment, and then I see it. I don’t stop riding him while I watch his back arch, his eyes close, and his body start to twitch and tremble while I feel him pulsing inside of me. He’s almost silent during his orgasm, only gasping softly, as if he doesn’t have the breath to make another sound.

I don’t cum yet, but I can feel myself clenching down around him at the sight of him coming undone. His hair is messy, his cheeks and ears bright red, and his chest is heaving underneath my palms. He looks completely fucked out, boneless, and like he’s barely aware of his surroundings.

My hips keep grinding down onto his cock that hasn’t started to soften yet, and I try to angle myself so that I can fuck down almost onto his public bone, because I know if I can get my clit just a little bit of– “Oh god!” I choke out, and start to ride him hard and fast as I feel my orgasm start to wash over me, and I feel how wet it’s getting between us, the squelch getting louder and louder while I work my way through it.

In the haze, I dimly become aware of Zayne’s hands now taking a bruising grip on my hips, and the pained groans and whines that start to come from him while I use his overstimulated cock. “Oh fuck, oh, mmm, wait, I can’t–” He starts to protest, but during the fall of my orgasm, I feel him start to cum again, in a matter of seconds. This time he is not so quiet. Instead he keens, and inside of me his cock jumps wildly, spurting into me over and over, and as Zayne gasps and shudders through it, for a second I think both of us are wondering if it’ll ever end.

As it ebbs away, he makes a little sobbing sound, and while I catch my own breath, I feel that he’s still holding tight to my hips. I lean heavily over him, tightening around his cock a few times as I feel it start to soften inside of me, and hear Zayne’s small, almost pained grunt. There’s a long silence, neither of us speaking or looking at each other until I feel his cock slip out of me, flopping back down between his own legs, and then I raise up to look at him. I wonder if I look as disheveled as he does. Not that it matters, because he’s looking up at me and his eyes are almost sparkling. I clear my throat, “Better?”

Zayne huffs a chuckle, and instead looks at his hands as they start to move up and down my thighs, his voice still hoarse, “Yes, much… But I’m afraid I might need a follow up appointment, doctor.”

I roll my eyes, and crawl back over him to steal another short kiss. I don’t miss the way he tries to follow my lips for a second. “Well, then I guess we’ll just have to schedule one.”

#zayne x reader #love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne #zayne x you

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