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23victoria · 10 hours

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“what did you just call me?”❁

f1 grid x fem!reader

ft. lewis hamilton, max verstappen, lando norris, oscar piastri, charles leclerc, carlos sainz

authros note: thank you anon for the request!!! hope you like it🤍! just fluff and comedy ig!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!! also sorry if your name is April!! 😭

f1 masterlist

Max

You are sitting in your apartment, the scent of Max's cologne lingering in the air. The two of you have just come back from dinner, and you're now nestled comfortably on the couch. Max is s through channels on the TV, looking relaxed in a simple T-shirt and jeans.

"Hey, Marcus, can you pass me the remote?" you say absentmindedly.

Max freezes, his hand hovering over the remote. He turns to you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What did you just call me?"

You look up at him with innocent eyes. "I called you Max."

He shakes his head slowly, his piercing blue eyes narrowing. "No, you didn't. You called me Marcus. Who the fuck is Marcus? That’s a ugly ass name."

You feign surprise. "No way, Max. Why would I call you Marcus? I don’t know anyone named Marcus."

Max leans forward, his expression a mix of amusement and irritation. "Are you fucking with me?"

You bite your lip to keep from laughing. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Marcus."

Face turning red, he crosses his arms, his biceps bulging slightly. "You definitely called me Marcus. You got a boyfriend named Marcus I don’t know about?"

You laugh, unable to keep up the act any longer. "Alright, you got me. It was a prank. I would never call you by someone else’s name baby, you know that."

Max's stern expression softens into a grin. "You and your pranks," he says, shaking his head. "Don’t do it again, you had my heart racing."

You lean in and kiss him on the cheek. "Promise, Max. You're the only one on my mind."

Lewis

You're in the passenger seat of Lewis car, the city lights of Monaco illuminating the night. Lewis, ever the style icon, is dressed impeccably in a designer jacket and sunglasses, even though it's already dark.

"Lucas, can you turn up the music?" you ask casually.

Lewis takes his eyes off the road for a moment, a look of disbelief crossing his face. "What did you just call me?"

You glance at him with a confused expression. "I called you Lewis."

He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "No, you called me Lucas."

You maintain your innocent demeanor. "Lucas? Why would I call you Lucas? I think you're hearing things, Lewis."

He pulls over parking the car and turns to you, "I know what I heard. You said Lucas? Are you thinking about someone else while you're with me?"

You try to hold back your laughter. "Of course not, Lucas. Why would I think about anyone else when I'm with you?"

Lewis' jaw drops as he stares at you in shock. "Right there!?! Just now! You called me Lucas? Who the fuck is Lucas? And why is he on your mind?!"

You finally let out a laugh. "Alright, alright. I’m sorry baby! It was a prank."

Lewis shakes his head, sighing in relief, smiling. "You love messing with me, don't you? You almost made me shit my pants. I was getting ready to drive back home and say ‘fuck it’ to dinner."

You grin and laughing. "Not you getting ready to cancel dinner! You was gonna let me starve?!”

“Hell yeah! Coming in my car calling me another mans name!” he’s says exasperated.

“Baby, you know I would never call you by the wrong name." you say rubbing the back of his neck.

He reaches over and squeezes your thigh as he kisses you. "Just making sure. Because there's only room for one man in your heart and that’s me."

Lando

You're at the beach, lounging on a sunbed next to Lando. The sound of waves crashing against the shore is soothing, as the sounds of people laughing fill the air, the sun shining brightly making your skin glow.

"Levi, can you pass me the sunscreen?" you ask without thinking.

Lando sits up, his relaxed expression turning serious. "What did you just call me?"

You look at him with wide eyes. "I called you Lando."

He frowns. "No, you said Levi."

You tilt your head, pretending to be confused. "I’m pretty sure I know my boyfriend's name is Lando not Levi."

“Well I'm pretty sure you don’t since you called me Levi, I heard you, unless I’m turning deaf at 24.” he says with an annoyed tone.

He takes his sunglasses off, his boyish face looking a bit hurt. "Are you sure you're not mixing me up with your side piece named Levi?"

You stifle a giggle. "Side piece?!? I’m not cheating on you, Lando. Why would I do that?"

He narrows his eyes at you. "Because you just called me another man’s name."

“Okay, but what makes you think you're not the side piece?” you say with a straight face.

He freezes staring you at jaw dropped, in shock not knowing what to say, “Wha-“

You burst out laughing, unable to keep the charade going. "I’m joking baby. It was a prank!"

Lando still stares at you trying to comprehend what just happened. Frowning he says “Why would I be the side piece?”

You start to laugh uncontrollably, “That’s what you're focused on! Seriously! I told you I was just playing with you!”

Lando's frown turns into a slight smile. "Yea but, I’m not side piece material, I’m main piece material.” he says softly.

You smile, shaking your head. “Yes Lando, you are main piece material, that's why you're my boyfriend.”

You take his hands in yours, “You being more offended being called a side piece than another man’s name is concerning.” You say in humor and slight disbelief.

He leans over kissing you on the nose. "Because we all know I’m boyfriend material. Unlike whoever this “Levi” is."

“You’re something else.” you say laughing at his antics.

Charles

You're in the kitchen, helping him cook dinner. The aroma of fresh basil and tomatoes fills the air, making your mouth water. You take the freshly chopped onions and throw it in the pan.

"Chris, can you pass me the olive oil?" you ask casually.

Charles stops chopping vegetables and looks at you, bewildered. "What did you just call me?"

You give him an innocent look. "I called you Charles."

He shakes his head slowly, a puzzled expression on his face. "No, you said Chris."

You blink at him. "Did I? I don't think so, Chris."

He narrows his eyes, a hint of frustration in his voice. "You just called me Chris again.”

“No I didn’t, I just called you Charles.” you say seriously.

“Nope, you didn’t.” Putting down the knife, walking towards you. He says, “Who’s Chris?"

"I don’t know. I don’t know anyone named Chris.” You say trying to keep a straight face.

Charles steps closer, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Well clearly you do because you just called me his name."

“I’m telling you I didn’t call you that. You’re just hearing things.” you say starting to get nervous.

“Am I?” he says, staring at you.

You can't help but laugh nervously. "Alright, holy fuck! It was a prank! Stop being all scary!"

Charles shakes his head, chuckling. "You're lucky I knew you were just joking. Just don't let it happen again." He says as he moves closer to your wrapping his hand around your neck squeezing it softly as he says “Your mine and mine only. Yes?”

“Yes.” you say breathlessly as he kisses you briefly before pulling away, smirking as he says “You burned the onions.”

“Oh shit!” you say turning around to turn off the stove as Charles laughs.

Oscar

You're sitting in the living room, watching a movie together. The lights are dimmed, and the atmosphere is cozy and intimate.

"Oliver, can you pass me the ice cream?" you ask, your eyes glued to the screen.

Oscar pauses the movie and looks at you, confused. "What did you just say?”

“I asked if you could pass me the ice cream? you say confused.

”No. What did you just call me?" He says turning his body towards you.

You glance at him, playing innocent. "I called you Oscar."

He shakes his head, a slight frown forming. "No, you said Oliver."

You feign surprise. "Who the fuck is Oliver?"

He leans back, crossing his arms. "That’s what the fuck I’m trying to figure April, sorry I mean Y/N?

You gasp saying “Who the fuck is April?”

“I don’t know, who the fuck is Oliver?” he says as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Babe I called you Oscar so why the fuck are you calling me April?” you say trying not to laugh.

“Why the fuck did you call me Oliver, April? Why are you thinking about this man instead of paying attention to the movie?" he says.

You struggle to keep a straight face. "Stop calling me April!! And I’m not, Oscar. Why would I think about anyone else? Why are you thinking about some girl named April?"

He narrows his eyes, his face holding a scowl he says, "Because you just called me another man’s name, April."

“My names not April, Oliver.” You shaking your head while rolling your eyes. "I was just trying to annoy you, it was a prank."

Oscar's frown turns into a smile. "I know April. You really like messing with me, don't you?"

You grin and nod. "Yes Oliver, I can't help it!”

“But you know I would never actually call you by the wrong name baby." you say as you crawl into his lap straddling him.

He wraps his arms around your waist bringing you closer, kissing you. "I know baby, just making sure."

Carlos

You're outside in your backyard, relaxing by the pool with Carlos. The sun is shining, and the sound of water gently splashing adds to the tranquil atmosphere. You lean back in your chair, enjoying the warmth, and then decide to add a bit of fun to the moment.

"Babe, could you get me a drink, please?" you ask sweetly.

Carlos gets up with a smile. "Sure thing baby!"

As he heads to the kitchen, you call out, "Thanks, Marcus!"

Carlos stops in his tracks and turns around, raising an eyebrow. "Marcus?"

You feign innocence. "What? I said Carlos."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, you definitely said Marcus. Who's this Marcus guy?"

You giggle. "What are you talking about? I said Carlos."

Carlos narrows his eyes playfully. "Alright, if that's how you want to play it."

A few moments later, he returns with your drink and hands it to you. "Here you go, my love."

"Thanks, Marcus," you say with a grin.

Carlos doesn't miss a beat. "Oh, okay." Without warning, he scoops you up in his arms.

You scream, "Carlos, put me down!"

He grins devilishly. "You said Marcus, remember?" And with that, he jumps into the pool, taking you with him. You both splash into the water, and when you come up for air, you sputter, "Carlos, what the hell?"

He laughs, brushing the wet hair from his face. "Oh, looks like you do know my name."

You roll your eyes but can't help but laugh along with him. " Of course I know your name baby."

He pulls you close, still smiling. "I know you do. I can play games too, cariño, if you want me to."

You both laugh, “No, no. You win.” you say pulling away from him. “For now." Then, with a quick motion, you splash water into his face and make a dash for the edge of the pool.

Carlos wipes his face, laughing. "Oh, that’s how you want to play cariño, you're so going to get it now!" He starts to chase you as you scramble out of the pool, both of you laughing.

You both laugh, the playful chase turning the afternoon into a joyful, carefree moment.

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idkirdkok · 3 days

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I don't know why some people blame stolas for how things went...He literally just confessed that he has feelings for blitz and, from his pov, not only got rejected and got the impression that it's always been only a sex thing (he saw blitz write it off as a sexual roleplay and even jokingly said "i love you sooo much" man,,,that must've hurt), he also GOT YELLED AT and INSULTED, in the same fashion his toxic, abusive ex used to constantly do and it was the first time he actually heard how blitz thinks of him.

WE as the audience know it's blitz' defense mechanism because he went through a lot of shit, that he actually wanted to Talk about it (and he did talk (or tried to, at least). He asked for a minute ro think/process and actually said how he feels, that's a great improvement. He also immediately tried to apologize once he realized stolas didn't yell back at him and that his words actually hurt stolas. I'm not blaming him at all. He has his own shitload of reasons and trauma for why he reacted the way he did), but stolas didn't know all that. His pov is dry ass responses to his texts, and blitz not showing up to neither save him nor visit him in the hospital. He saw blitz treat his confession as a joke, and then yell at him for "dropping this feelings bullshit" on him (again, WE know it's because Blitz thinks so low of himself that he convinced himself it must be a joke, and that someone like stolas couldn't possibly genuinely like someone like him). Then basically got told he's a terrible person. It's all too much to deal with.

I think had Blitz been more gentle in saying all those instead of kicking the door and yelling, it probably wouldn't have gone as bad as it did. Stolas literally FLINCHED when blitz yelled and called him a bitch. So yeah, they needed to have a longer, two sided convo, he should've heard blitz out, should have given the poor guy some time to process everything before making a decision. BUT!! he can't be blamed for not doing that, it was a hard fucking moment for him.

I also think the reason he immediately teleported Blitz away instead of waiting to hear his apology was not solely because it was the first time he realized how Blitz views him, but also because Blitz unknowingly confirmed what Stolas was worried about. "If he's only here as a prisoner, then what kind of monster does that make me?" And then Blitz went and called him a rich, pompous asshole who thinks he's more important than others.

Man...I can't wait to see what happens in apology tour

Tl;dr: neither of them are fully right or fully wrong. They both reacted based on their own circumstances, trauma and assumptions

#helluva boss #stolas x blitz #stolitz

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latenightdaydreams · 3 days

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Recruit who openly shows interest in Colonel König. Poor guy doesn't know what to do with this bright-eyed, eager to please recruit who openly says to Horangi and Nikto they'd gladly sit on his lap all day if he'd let them.

I just wanna give best boy so love

Baby girl König deserves a soft girl that goes out of her way to care for him💖

Love At First Sight (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, love, fluff, minor dirtiness

1.0k word count

😍

The first time König saw you was when he was walking to his office. You walked past him and gazed up at him as if cupid struck you with his bow and arrow. You stopped walking and waved to him. König looked around and realized you meant him. He raised his giant hand and waved back to you. The mask on his face hid his confusion.

Later that day, when König went to get himself a coffee from the break room, he saw you there. You turned and smiled brightly up at him again.

“Hello Colonel.”

“Hallo.” He walked past you to the coffee machine.

“How are you doing?”

She’s really trying to make small talk with me? “I’m doing well. You?”

“I’m doing great. I just wanted to say you have really beautiful eyes. They look like a summer sky.”

He stopped what he was doing and just looked at you. “Oh, Danke.”

“Do you need me to make your coffee for you? I don’t mind. I’m on break right now.”

“I—” He looked down at the cup not even halfway filled with coffee.

You slowly take the cup from his hand, your soft delicate flesh coming in contact with his. König looks down at you and feels his heart skip a beat. He steps back slightly to give you room, watching in amazement.

Ever since that day, he seems to see you everywhere. You’re always smiling brightly at him and eager to talk to him. Confusion consumes him. Do you like him? No, you’re too sweet; especially for him. Then today he sees you talking to his best friend Horangi and Nikto. He hangs back, wanting to see if you’re speaking about him. Yes, you are.

“So, he’s single?” Your voice is so hopeful.

“Uh, yeah. The dude is so awkward.” Nikto says. König narrows his eyes.

“He is a good guy.” Horangi defends him.

“I feel like he just needs someone soft to love him.” Horangi and Nikto look at each other and then back at you.

“When he has free time. He’s always doing paperwork.”

“I’d sit on his lap all day then.”

König could feel his ears burning as he heard you say that. So, do you like him?

“Well, his birthday is coming up soon. Maybe give the poor guy a lap dance.” Nikto says, and Horangi laughs. This gives you an idea, though.

“What’s his favorite cake flavor?”

“I- I don’t know.” Horangi admits feeling a little bad.

“Wow, what a great friend,” Nikto nudges him.

König walks away, his heart beating in his ears as he rushes to his office. You see him walk past, your heart fluttering in your chest, and you imagine being held by him.

A week passes and now it’s König’s birthday week. He goes about his day as usual, hoping slightly that you’ll do something for him, but he doesn’t hold his breath. That was until there was a knock at the door. He stands and walks over.

Opening the door, he looks down and sees you with a handful of things. The bags are not festive like he expected from you.

“I came incognito just in case you don’t want people to know about your birthday.” You giggle as you speak.

A smile tugs at his lips as he hears that. The fact you considered his privacy makes him feel truly seen by you. “Come in, please.”

König steps aside and you enter, placing the things on his desk. You place the two gift bags down and then open the Tupperware to show 24 cupcakes. He looks at them and then up at you. The look in his eyes softened. No one has celebrated him since his mom passed away seven years ago.

“I don’t know what your favorite flavor is, so there is white, chocolate, red velvet, strawberry, lemon, and carrot cake.” You bite your lower lip and gaze up at him. What you wouldn’t give to see his face and kiss his lips.

“That’s…a lot of work for just me.”

“You deserve it.”

König looks away from you, not wanting you to see how vulnerable he is right now.

“Do you want to open the gifts?”

“Sure.” He walks closer to the desk, grabbing one bag. Opening it, he sees a Build-A-Bear wearing an army uniform, and he laughs. “This is very cute.”

You laugh with him and hand him the other bag. He reaches in to see a bunch of sweets. His favorite candies, cookies, and chocolates.

“This is all very sweet, y/n. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to make sure you know you’re appreciated.”

“You did a great job.” His voice lowers as he looks at everything. “Will you stay and share cupcakes with me?”

“Yes!” You can hide how eager you are to spend time with him.

He sits in his desk chair and you begin to walk to the other side when he grabs your waist gently, he is terrified for what he is about to do.

“Do you still want to sit on my lap?”

“Of course.” A small blush forms on your cheeks as you fall back on to König’s massive thighs. His arm wraps around your waist to hold you steady.

König lifts his mask, knowing you might reject him once you see that he isn’t a handsome man and that his face is scarred. You look at him and smile instead. He watches as you reach over for a cupcake.

“Which is your favorite?”

“Lemon.” His hand begins to caress your abdomen.

You grab a lemon cupcake for him and peel it. Holding it for him to take a bite. His gaze lingers on you for a second, feeling hesitant, but then leans forward and takes a bite. Your fingers gently wipe away buttercream frosting from his lip and lick it off your finger.

König watches intently. He tries to ignore these feelings, but his body betrays him. His cock slowly gets hard. The look in your eyes tells him you feel it. You lean in to feed him another bite, this time locking eyes. As he chews, you press a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I really like you, König.”

He swallows and nods. “I know…why?”

“Just look at you.” You caress his face with your free hand. “I just want to make you happy.”

König brings his hand to the side of your face and brings you in for another kiss.

#konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #konig x y/n #könig x reader #könig smut #könig cod #konig smut #könig mw2 #könig x y/n #könig x you #konig x you #konig fluff #könig fluff #fluff #light smut #konig x reader smut

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mouvs · 1 day

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Love, expired? - Joost Klein

(Angst & fluff based on bittersuite<- singer reader)

You and joost have always been close, from his youtube days to his crowded festivals, always doing the craziest things together. You were his rock and he was yours, always finding each other in your miseries, finding comfort in one another as you smoked cigarettes and watched the night pass.

Always by one another’s side, cheering each other on. Some would say you come as a set, a bundle of joy spreading where ever you guys came, always giggling by his side as he made you smile trough and trough. Always holding him close on those harder days as he found his way to you, listing to music as you played with the blondes locks as he rested on your lap.

It was on those memories that had your head spiralling, seeing him sleep so peacefully next to you, seeing those bright blue eyes disappear as he smiled at you, feeling his strong arms around your body in a warm embrace. All of it felt like a bliss of warmth, comfort and… love?

You cant lie, a part of you always knew you loved him. But you denied it and you would deny it until you couldn’t anymore. Hes busy, he doesn’t have time for all of that, he doesn’t have time for me, i cant make him happy you told yourself. It was all a joke to him.

You two had been trough so much. It wasn’t his fault you took his jokes a little too seriously right? The nights, you danced together, swaying your hips to the loud music beaming trough the speakers, his hands on your waist and yours occasionally going around his neck, locking eyes from time to time as you held each other close.

“You look so gorgeous i could kiss you” he had said. “I love you” he had said. Giggling as he held you against his chest. Hovering over you the entire night with his hands on you, sharing intimate moments as his lips brushed against your neck occasionally as you danced against his chest. Holding you on his lap as he chatted with friends, gently laying his hand on your thigh. He made you feel so special.

Like it was meant to be, finally.

Until she came around.

The usual group of friends had dragged everyone to a party the week after, inviting a bunch of other people around. Surely one had to take an interest in joost. Your joost. The sweet sweet boy that lid up ypur heart every time you saw him, the sweet boy that made your heart beat faster every time he opened his mouth.

And he shamelessly enjoyed it. Crushing your party mood in an instant as you saw them dance how he danced with you. And you wished that was the only time you had to see it.

But no, surely she became part of the group. Coming along on the smallest things you all did together. And part of you felt so stupid, why do i feel this way you thought. He is free to do what he wants. But this was yet another sign.. that you had fallen hard for him. The way your heart aches for him was surreal.

Part of you felt like you were over reacting. Why cant you let him be happy.

But why do i need him to be happy..

You grew more distant from joost over some time, there was no confirmation they were together but one night at a bar with your friends, hearing the conversation, questions they asked, hearing the girl joke slyly next to him about ‘all they share’ and seeing her around his arm just was to much. You thought it was better to get rid off these feelings, which was painfully slow. You had known each other for so long it felt like a piece of you was missing each day you didn’t talk to him.

And he felt it too. He missed you.

You stopped showing up at his concerts, stopped hanging out with him and your friends as much. Telling them you’ve been working on new songs. Which wasnt a lie, you were drowning yourself in work on purpose, as not to think, not to hear not even breath joost.

Seeing the pictures she shared clinging onto him only making you burry yourself even more.

He felt concerned, he knew you, he knew you all too well to be fooled by your facade. Making your phone explode with texts and calls, only receiving short replies from you or smiley faces.

“Hey the concert for my new album is tomorrow hope you guys can make it!” The message popped up on his phone as he chugged back the remains of the beer he was holding.

He sighed. Remembering the times you were on stage together, dancing together, singing and screaming just living your wildest dreams. “Why wont you talk to me” he thought to himself as he scrolled trough your pictures. Reviving all the memories you guys had together.

Biking to school together, spending hours in grass fields as you both drew or wrote, enjoying the warm summers, going to parties together, smoking together. Suddenly everything reminded him of you. It made him so confused, he had a crush on you for a while but he had settled it was never the right moment as you gotten out of a rough relationship.. but his feelings.. it never really went away.

He wanted to make you smile, make you feel safe, be your person.

He exhaled briefly before pressing the call button..

Hearing it ring more then three times made him anxious as he looked at the screen, his heart stopping for a second as the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” Your voice sounded. Your voice.. he missed your voice. He listened to your songs a lot but it was never the same as actually hearing you talk to him, just him.

“Hey- uhm yea i saw your text in the group i wanted to congratulate you” he smiled softly “i hope im still invited..” he mumbled

“Aw thank you thats really sweet and ofcourse you are joost don’t be silly” you spoke, feeling a little nervous as you heard his quiet odd tone.

“Yea.. okay” he nervously chuckled “but.. why havnt i seen you y/n..” he paused as he sighed “i miss you” it usually took him a lot of courage to open up like that, but the feelings of missing you mixed with alcohol made it slip his lips easier.

It was silent for a while, you didn’t know what to say as you heard him speak.

“I- im sorry joost.. uhm i promise ill make some time for you tomorrow depending how busy it is you know” you nervously laughed. But you only meant one thing. You wanted to only see him, and not with another girl around his arm.

“Thats all you seem to say lately but i don’t believe you y/n” he bites back.

“Wh- what?” You frown as you hear his tone shift on the other side.

“I know somethings up and your not telling me.. did i do something wrong why are you so distant from me all of a sudden?”

Tears prickled into your eyes as you listened, feeling guilty as if you tossed him away.

“I-“ you sniffled “im sorry i dont know okay” you cleared your throat as you tried to compose yourself.

“Y/n sweetheart you can talk to me.. i want you to talk to me please?.. i know we both have it rough sometimes but thats why we have each other.” His words sounded trough your head.

So comforting yet feeling like a knife trough your heart as you sighed. You cant let this continue longer, torturing yourself, leaving him confused. You were already separating yourself from him, might as well take the shot.

“You know just come tomorrow, i do want to talk to you thats not it joost.. you know its not” you mumbled the last part. “After the show we can meet up? Just the two of us?” You asked.

“I would love that y/n” joost said, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“You should really listen to the last song by the way”

He frowned at the text as he and your friends walked too the venue.

“Oh? Why?:)” he typed back,

“If i talk you’d listen right?”

He only got more confused as he read your message

“Ofcourse y/n”

You didn’t reply back as the group went to find a spot, waiting for your entry as they gather drinks.

As you walked on stage joost motioned to get closer as he dragged the group to the front. His eyes glued on you at every given moment, paying zero mind to everyone screaming your lyrics as he tuned it out to only listen to your voice.

Patiently analysing every song, it was painful how mysterious you could be sometimes yet your music unfolds you perfectly.

You laughed as the music ends slowly “thank you all for being here i love you all” you breath trough the mic as you made eye contact.

“Well one more?” You asked as everyone cheered on you chuckled “alright alright i got one more for you guys” you smiled briefly looking at joost as your smile fades a little softer.

Nerves spreading across your body as everything was so real all of a sudden. Normally it feels like a fever dream standing on stage. But this was a little more.. you wrote this song thinking about him.. your feelings for him.

Just like you he stood there nervously listening to the music playing, interested what the last song was about. Carefully listening to the lyrics.

I cant fall in love with you

Your voice sounding trough his head, he frowns a little as he listens, watching your every move, so tender, so elegant.

I see the way you want me i wanna be the one

Your hair falling perfectly over your shoulders as your voice sounds trough the mic, joost eyes on you as you briefly made eye contact, swiftly looking away as you sang the next lines.

But i gotta be careful gotta watch what i say

God i hope it all goes away

Cause i cant fall in love with you

Suddenly it hits him, all those moments, all those heartfelt memories. He was truly in love with you. But.. is he the one you cant fall in love with? His mind raced as he watched you in the dim orange stage lights.

“Fuck” he breathed out as he walked out of the crowd as he ran trough the people trying to reach the back stage, the music ended.

“Thank you all so much” your voice sounded trough the venue as you looked at the crowd, not finding joost in his previous spot. Well fuck. You thought as you nervously smiled, adrenaline rushing trough your veins from the performance you turn around as you went off stage.

Only to be met with those piercing blue eyes you were looking for.

“Y/n..” he said walking towards you “i love you” he blurred out, out of breath from running as he looked down at you.

You stood there for a second with a sheepish grin on your face, serotonin rushing trough you as you pressed your lips against his, his arms comfortingly wrapping around your waist, holding you up as you hold him close.

The smell of his cologne hit you as you feel whole again, his hand tangled into your hair as his lips feel soothingly cool against yours, sounds of him groaning into the kiss only making you smile more as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you too..” you give him a little peck “maybe a little to much”

“Don’t be silly you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to spit that out” he whined before chuckling as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“How silly are we hm” you giggled as you pressed a kiss to his jaw, only making him want more as his hand brushed over your cheek and his lips meet yours again in a heartbeat.

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bkglovergirl · 2 days

Text

· ͟͟͞͞➳❥First kisses

Characters: Denki Kaminari and Katsuki Bakugou

If people are interested, I’ll write more.

Word Count; 777

ೃ⁀➷

➷Denki Kaminari

You are sprawled out on his bed, your head down near his as he sits on the floor, his legs out and his head resting on his bed. You both went through trying to pick out something to watch for about half an hour before you settled on some random romcom. The popcorn bowl next to Denki’s leg was empty when you both finally settled and got comfy. Not even a couple minutes into the movie, you had already closed your eyes; Denki’s bed was very comfortable and made you understand why he sometimes showed up late.

“Y/N.”

“Don’t talk during the movie.”

“You aren’t even watching the movie.” You open your eyes to see him facing you, and his face is too close for your liking.

“My point still stands.” You close your eyes again.

“Have you ever had your first kiss?” And your eyes are back open again.

“What are you talking about? Have you?” Denki blushes and points to the TV.

“Well, they kissed, so it made me bring it up! What is it a weird question?!”

“Yes!” Denki rolls his eyes, and you speak again, “No, I haven't had my first kiss.”

“Well… I haven't either.” Denki looks at you and stares. “What?!”

“What do you mean what?!”

“I’m just...” he glances at the TV and then back at you, moving his leg and accidentally hitting the popcorn bowl. “Surprised?” you turn, lying on your back and staring at the ceiling.

“Why? It’s not that surprising.” Seeing the look on your face, Denki moves and gets on his knees, and You glance at him. “What are you doing?” He gets closer to your face.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes or no to what?!” The TV illuminates his face, and you can see the slight blush on his face.

“This could ruin our friendship, so yes or no?” getting the clear hint, you nod your head yes, and Denki leans down, a little too slow for your liking, and kisses you. Seconds goes by way too fast, and he moves away from you. He leans back on his knees, and you sit up and look at him, your heart beating so fast you think it will jump out of your chest. You go to say Denki’s name, but he beats you to it. “Wanna do it again?” he says with a smile. You nod, and he quickly jumps onto his bed.

➷Katsuki Bakugou

After your fight in class, you and Bakugou are assigned cleaning duty. It has been an hour of silence, with him glaring and you smirking, “I’m done sweeping.”

“Don’t start talking now.”

“Shut up and come with me to the storage closet.”

“Why are you scared?” You smack him with the rag you were also holding and he grumbles following after. Bakugou unlocks the closet and opens the door for you.

“Aw, you do have a heart.” He mumbles some swears your way and follows you, letting the door shut. “Wait, hold the-.” the door slams shut, and the closet is pitch black. “You mother fucker, I don’t know where the light switch is; open the door again!” you hear movement and a door knob shake.

“I can’t.

“What?!”

“I FUCKING CAN’T!” he groans. You drop the stuff you were holding carefully and move around; you bump into something. “Are you really that scared?” You blush, realizing you were pressed against Bakugou. You go to move back, and you feel him grab you.

“Oh fuck off.” he brings his hands down to your hands and brings them up to his face, and kisses the palm of your hands. “Stop fucking around.”

“I’m not.” he brings your hands back down. “I’ve been waiting for a moment like this.”

“A moment in the closet?”

“You know what I mean!” You laugh, and Bakugou rolls his eyes even if you can’t see, “Bring my hands to your face... Please.” You blush, doing as he says. “I would like to be able to see you while I do this but let me kiss you.”

“Do it.” He leans down, trying not to bruise his ego and miss your lips. He kisses you softly, but once getting comfortable, he wraps his arms around you. You don’t know how long you guys were kissing before the door opened.

“Guys, did you get stuck… oh!” You two quickly separate and see a smirking Mina.

“Don’t you dare say anything, raccoon eyes!” Mina runs off, and Bakugou grabs your hand and chases after her, with you following, laughing.

#bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski #denki x reader #denki kaminari #bnha denki #mha denki #boku no hero acedamia

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days

Text

Somewhere Only We Know

Dustin wants to know why Eddie despises you over every other member of the dark side. You're just some cheerleader, right? What could you have possibly done to incur Eddie's wrath?

Starts off with Dusty Buns POV, then Eddie then yours.

Mentions of weed, Jason being a prick, Eddie pines but won't admit it... Mdni. Vecna? Who's Vecna.

🖤💌

Dustin truly thought Eddie Munson was one of the coolest people he had ever known, Steve of course was on that list of total badasses as well.

However for all, Dustin knew of Eddie and that was a lot (the guy made his feelings loud and clear on a variety of things, conformity, Jason Carver, why metal was the superior genre of music, Jason Carver.

But in the few short months since Dustin joined Hellfire and was taken under Eddie's wing, there was one topic he wasn't so clued up on, and that was you and the mystery of why Eddie seemed to despise you above everyone else in this school.

He had tried to casually bring the topic of you up, sure you were a cheerleader and on the dark side and Eddie hated conformity and shit but clearly you had done something painful to Eddie for him to hate you like this.

Dustin wasn't exaggerating either, anytime you and Eddie were in the same vicinity of each other it was like the temperature dropped in the room and Dustin was chilled to the bone at the icy glares between you and Eddie.

Literally, the mention of your name had Eddie's eyes filling with disdain. "She's a traitor and can't be trusted, don't ask about her again Henderson" Eddie snapped during one lunch break when Dustin brought you up out of curiosity.

"Uh meaning?" he asks confused but not wanting to piss Eddie off any further. His question is ignored until Gareth answers it quietly.

"She used to be in Hellfire, then she tried out for a spot on the cheerleading squad and got in. Refused to choose between the two, said she could do both and that Eddie was being an asshole, they had a big fight and she left Hellfire. It broke Eddie's heart even though he pretends otherwise"

Well, shit. "Don't tell him I told you that dude and don't bring her up again. Touchy subject" Dustin nods and expects that's the last he will hear about you.

It's not.

💌

Eddie ignores the chatter around him while his gaze is solely focused on you. Jackson had been hanging around you constantly and for some reason, it pissed Eddie off. Couldn't he enjoy his pretzels and Yoohoo in peace without seeing such a sickening display?

If Eddie felt a twist in his gut every time Jackson got too close to you then that was his business.

"Can't they go to the bleachers and hash it out so I don't have to bring up my lunch every time Jackass decides to flirt" Eddie snaps and narrows his eyes at you, Gareth rolls his eyes and Jeff hides his snort behind a cough when Eddie's glare is aimed at him.

"Dude she's not even interested in him. He was an asshole when they dated and she got sick of him within two weeks" Jeff is apparently very informed on the matter and this annoys him even more.

"You're very informed on the dating lives of the dark side Jeff?" Jeff shrugs and mutters something under his breath, something suspiciously like he still talks to you from time to time.

This would be Eddie's next rant. Giving the time of days to traitors was not in the Hellfire handbook, just because they had pretty eyes and a sweet but deadly smile was not an excuse to break said rule.

Unfortunately, he has a deal to make, the rant would be adjourned to another time. "Gentlemen, I must leave you now to embark on a quest for gold in the deep dark woods" he bows then heads out to his spot in the woods.

Waits for ten minutes and thinks that whoever it is isn't coming. All he had to signify the meeting was a note in his locker and he's still unsure if he's walking into a trap by Carver.

Impatient and just about to give up, he gets up and then stills when he sees you walk into the clearing. What the shit... Since when did you smoke weed? He's never known you to do it in any of the time he's known you.

"Munson" you nod and he closes his gaping mouth as you join him on the table, he expects you to be tense but you close your eyes and enjoy the cool wind and the peace of just the birds singing and leaves rustling gently. He forgot how much you liked being out here.

He clears his throat refusing to get lost in memories and you sigh, open your eyes and he stares back impassively. "Surprised Jackass isn't hanging off you like a limpet" he snarks and you roll your eyes at his tone.

"Jackson' you emphasize ''needs to take a hint. Look, Megan asked me to pick up weed for the party this weekend, so we can cut to the chase" Eddie snorts, you never did have time for bullshit.

"How much do you want?" you shrug and place twenty-five bucks on the table.

"Carver is paying apparently" There is a glint of mischief in your eyes and you smile impishly. Eddie does not get lost in that smile, no way. He clears his throat and smirks.

"Well if it's Carver's money" he takes the full amount and is surprised when you unsuccessfully try to hide a smile. He sobers up and plays with his rings, looks at you briefly then speaks again.

"Uh, it's potent so just make sure that you don't get overboard" he spits it out quickly, like he doesn't care either way what you do. You pause before getting up and there's that soft smile again.

"Careful Munson, anyone would think you still care about me'' there's a sadness to your tone and Eddie watches you go. There's an ache in his chest that feels all too familiar.

💌

You loved cheerleading, the closeness you felt with the rest of the team, learning routines together and having each other's backs. The close friendship you had with Chrissy and Tina. It was senior year and the cheer squad were on the precipice of winning a trophy for the school.

In that sense your life was perfect. In other ways not so much. You hated Jason but tolerated him for Chrissy. Jackson wouldn't stop bugging you to go back out with him, even though you had barely dated him for two weeks and grew tired of his jealous and demanding behaviour.

No way were you going down that road again. Then there was Eddie Munson, who hated you and made that feeling known, he was the bane of your existence and yet you were so tired of the animosity between you both.

Most of all you were sick of Jason and his stupid superiority, boy did he never let you forget that you didn't belong with the cheer squad. He all but cornered you after lunch to rant at you for laughing at one of Eddie's stupid jokes at Jason's expense.

It was a reflex. That's all and it was funny to see Jason brought down a peg or two.

"Don't think I forget where you came from freak, you can easily go back to obscurity playing Dungeons and Dwarves with Munson and his band of geeks" Jason snaps and you meet his gaze with unwavering intensity.

"Dragons", He looks confused and you smirk ''Its Dungeons and Dragons, dumbass" you tack on dumbass at the end just to piss him off even more, how dare he threaten you? Who did he think he was?

Sometimes you wished you could just go back and be a part of Hellfire Club again, a club that so easily accepted and looked after their own. Cheerleading was similar to that but the people in your friends circle sure liked to ruin any sense of security you felt. Mostly Jason and some of his Neanderthal friends.

Jason snorts and then he slams the locker beside you hard and it rattles you but you don't show it, when that doesn't work Jason knocks the books out of your hands and they go flying and he stomps on them before he leaves.

His laughter echoes down the hallway and you shout after him that he's an asshole, gather the books as best as you can and freeze as your well-loved copy of The Hobbit which already isn't in the best state falls apart completely.

Tears pool in your eyes and you hastily wipe them away, it's just a book, it's just a book you chant in your head but it doesn't work. It's been your constant companion since you were nine and it breaks your heart to see it tattered and broken.

Ringed hands help gather the rest of your work and you whimper. Shit, not him. Not now. Hastily you wipe your tears away and stand up, meet Eddie's gaze as he holds your books for you.

He looks begrudging in helping you but slowly his features soften at your tears, he looks at the tattered book in your hand, at the faint smudge of a shoe print.

"Who...Carver did this?" he growls and you nod still seething but the anger is ebbing away to sadness.

"I've had that book since I was nine and I know I can buy a new one but it's not the same, I hate him and I hate his stupid bullshit king title. He's an asshole and his group of Neanderthal friends and he can't even get the name of D&D right and I miss...'' you swallow and Eddie's anger melts away, his gaze intent on you.

"What do you miss?" he asks softly and you figure you've already spilled out some secrets so why not indulge one more.

"I miss Hellfire and I miss y...everyone" you hurriedly say and hope Eddie didn't notice the slip ''but everyone hates me now"

Eddie gently hands you back your books and you thank him. He's silent for a moment then speaks up.

"Everyone misses you too" he is about to walk away when you stop him. Your heart is racing but you have to be sure.

"Everyone?" you confirm and he knows what you're asking, if everyone includes him. He nods and reaffirms what he said.

"Everyone sweetheart and one more thing... no one hates you" he walks away at that point, runs to catch up with one of the freshmen in Hellfire and steals his hat. A laugh bursts out from you as you watch Dustin? as he chases Eddie around the hallway.

Yeah, you do miss Hellfire...and Eddie.

♥️

When you get to your locker on Monday morning there's something jammed in your locker so that it isn't fully closed. When you open the locker, a book falls out and you recognise the cover immediately.

A new copy of The Hobbit. You pick the book up and hug it to your chest, eyes sparkling with tears. You know exactly who left it in your locker but the little note of crumpled-up paper falls out.

It's clearly ripped from a Dungeon Masters notebook. All that's on it is a small message in a messy scrawl but it makes your heart skip several beats anyway.

Since Carver ruined the first copy, I thought you might want another.

E M 🖤

💞💞💞💞💞💌

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #enemies to friends to lovers #eventually #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson

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scuderiahalf · 2 days

Text

always you — mick schumacher

pairing. mick schumacher x verstappen!merc racing engineer!fem!reader

summary. mick had always been inexplicably tied to you, no matter what distance grew between you. even if it took over two decades for you to figure it out, it had always been mick. it would always be mick. 5.4k, 18+

playlist. "invisble string" by taylor swift, "the perfect pair" by beabadoobee, "moves" by suki waterhouse, "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys, "let the light in feat. father john misty" by lana del ray

warnings. pining, mick is kind of very much pitiful in this alright, smut, l-bombs, sort of sub!mick, google translated german, almost choking, oral (fem and male receiving), penetrative sex

. . .

"I'm telling you what the data says, and it says you're wrong, so follow the damn line, George."

Mick fought a smile as you told George off over the radio. Toto cast you a look that you didn't even seem to see, let alone acknowledge. The team principal didn't look all that surprised when you didn't take your eyes off the screens of data you were getting input from.

In the next lap, George's lap time dropped nearly four seconds thanks to your suggestion. George didn't offer an apology for doubting you and you didn't expect one; you only expected him to be consistent in how he attacked turns seven and eight, to continue following your instructions.

Mick had observed your and George's relationship over the last few seasons you had been working with him. As George's racing engineer, you had quite a close working relationship with the Brit.

Off track, you were good if unlikely friends. Where George was all pretense and propriety and politeness, you were nothing but brutally honest, succinct, and to the point. But you were close in age and often seen together chatting and laughing.

On track, you were pretty much the same, if not even more blunt, if that was possible. George fed off your no-nonsense attitude, communicating clearly and without any of the fluff normally gracing his conversational skills.

Mick admired how well you worked with George. He admired just about everything you did. You could sit there doing absolutely nothing and F1TV would catch Mick staring at you like a lovesick fool again.

He still doesn't know how he hadn't seen the cameraman filming him as he watched you from across the garage two weekends ago. People kept referring to him as "Heart Eyes" Schumacher and he really could not blame them after seeing the clip of himself watching you.

You hadn't said anything to him about it. In fact, you hadn't said anything to him all season. Or during pre-season. Or in the two years prior when he was driving for Haas. Or in the thirteen years it had been since your dads had their falling out.

Mick would have liked to talk to you. He would have liked to talk about nothing or everything like you used to. He would have listened to you ramble about statistics and analytics and anything you wanted, even if he didn't understand a word of it.

But you had looked at him maybe three times since he signed on as Mercedes reserve driver. You either didn't remember or—more likely, knowing your keen mind—you didn't care about your shared history.

Even if it was in your childhood and so much had changed since then, Mick still remembered. He remembered playdates and shared family vacations and spending every second together that you could before your dad dragged you away.

He remembered noticing how different your dad treated you than his dad treated him. He remembered sleeping over once and hearing your dad screaming at you until you ran to your bedroom in tears. He remembered telling his dad about it all.

He remembered how he was the one to ruin everything.

You didn't seem to remember any of it—or, at least, you never seemed to reminisce on it. Never got caught up staring at him wondering how things could have been different. Never got distracted by unexplainable yet unavoidable and likely unrequited feelings for someone that was once your friend over a decade ago.

When he was with Haas, your lack of interaction could be excused; you were on different teams. Since he had signed with Mercedes, it felt like you had purposefully been ignoring him for months.

He could approach you. He could simply walk up to you at any point when you weren't fully absorbed by readout screens and analytic diagnoses and strike up a conversation.

He didn't want to push his luck. He didn’t fully understand why you wouldn’t talk to him but he also didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

If being near you meant never truly being close to you again, Mick could live with that. Ultimately, you owed him nothing, so he could watch from afar and adore you silently. He could be content with that.

After all, it was his fault that everything fell apart in the first place.

"Hey, heart eyes! Come here!"

Mick hesitated before making his way to where Lewis was in the VIP section of this Friday night's club of choice.

"Hi?"

"I can't help but notice that you're pathetically in love with your race engineer."

"She's George's engineer—"

"That’s beside the point. Anyway, I think your girl could use some saving."

"She's not my girl."

Lewis hadn't said your name. Mick didn't need him to.

Mick leaned on the balcony railing beside Lewis, looking down over the crowd on the main floor of the club. He found you embarrassingly fast. You were wearing a black shirt, pink shorts, and sandals.

He had seen you come in earlier with your brother and thought you were probably the prettiest girl there that night. If you were put in a room with the world's top models, Mick would still think the same.

On the floor below, your personal space was being invaded by a dark-haired man in glasses. You looked incredibly uncomfortable, glancing around for anyone you knew who you could latch onto and get away from the man who was talking at you incessantly.

It wasn’t even a conscious decision on Mick’s part. One second, he was watching you from the VIP balcony and the next, he was pushing his way through the dance floor to get to you.

The unnamed glasses man put a hand on your back, touching the sliver of exposed skin between your shirt and shorts. You visibly tensed up.

Before he could think better of it, Mick called your name and pretended to stumble into you and the man.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you.” He played up being drunk as he stuck himself between you and Glasses. “Hey, mate, how’s it going? Who are you?”

“I’m Nolan. And we were having a conversation.”

Mick had to hand it to ‘Nolan,’ he was persistent. “My bad, I guess. Y/N, your brother’s looking for you. Come on.”

He walked off and you followed after him. He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. He hadn’t been thinking at all. He was running by the seat of his pants and hoping he didn’t end up making things worse.

Last time he had thought he was helping you, he didn't speak to you for thirteen years.

“My brother left an hour ago.”

“I know.”

Mick kept walking towards the stairs up to VIP.

You kept following.

Maybe this time, things would be different.

When Mick was 11, he mentioned to his mom that your dad yelled at you and made you cry. That same day, his dad sat him down and asked him to tell him everything he knew about how Jos Verstappen treated his children.

He had told him everything he knew because he didn’t know why he shouldn’t. If his dad wanted to know, it had to be important. Maybe he would be helping you by telling his dad.

A week later, Mick was playing with you in the backyard when your dad started yelling. Except that time, he wasn’t yelling at you or his most frequent target of your older brother Max, he was yelling at Mick’s dad.

That day had ended with your father dragging you away from Mick. Mick remembers thinking he had grabbed you so roughly; didn’t it hurt to be seized by your arm and jerked around like that?

Jos didn’t care. He just yelled at Mick’s dad to stay away if he had such an issue with how he raised his children. So, the Schumachers stayed away. The last memory Mick had of you was with tears streaming down your face, begging your dad not to make Mick leave.

A little less than ten years later, Mick was a Formula One reserve driver. That same year, you had graduated early from university and earned a spot as a Williams performance engineer. Then, you went to Mercedes in 2021 and took over as George’s racing engineer at only twenty two years of age while Mick was racing with Haas.

"I thought you hated me."

You looked up at him, mouth full. "What? Why would I hate you?"

"For telling my dad about everything. For tearing us apart."

You swallowed your mouthful of sandwich, sat across from him in Mercedes hospitality on your lunch break.

After that night in the club, you and Mick rekindled your old friendship. You looked at him, now. You smiled at him and talked to him and sought him out just to sit and talk during your break.

Getting a second chance to be your friend was more than Mick ever thought he would have.

"Mick, that wasn't your fault. My dad... it's complicated. But our dads' falling out wasn't your fault. I never blamed you for it. You know that, right?"

No, he had not known that. He had spent the last thirteen years blaming himself for losing you. He had assumed you would blame him, too, for ending your friendship because he had spent so long as a self proclaimed scapegoat.

"Mick."

"I know that now."

"Mick!"

"I— Okay, I know it's stupid but I have always blamed myself for the whole situation. Then, when we both were getting into F1, you never reached out."

"You never reached out, either!"

"I know that but I figured you wanted nothing to do with me, so I never tried to talk to you."

"You're so daft sometimes, Schumacher."

Mick took your empty insult without argument.

After spending every free second he had with you over the last several weeks, he realized how dumb he had been. He never thought of himself as the melodramatic type but he had really been going through it when he thought you were avoiding him.

"I've never been the smartest when it comes to you."

You just scoffed at him and ate more of your sandwich.

The next day, it was a double podium for Mercedes with Lewis in P2 and George in third. With your brother on the top step of the podium, you were elated, grin broad and voice loud over the radio as you congratulated George for a race well done.

Then, you looked around the garage. Mick didn't know why until your eyes found him along the back wall. You were looking for him. You smiled (at him) and he was smiling back before he even had to think about it.

Being with you had always been easy. As kids, you never argued. You shared toys and always managed to find some weird, convoluted way to mash what you both wanted to do together.

Now that you had gotten over whatever misunderstandings that kept you apart for the last few years, it was easy again. There was never anything you two couldn't talk about. There was never awkward silence. There was never any want to not be near each other.

Mick spent all night celebrating Mercedes' 2-3 finish with you. It was easy to spend hours by your side, to stand too close, to look at you for too long. Once he had a few drinks, it was all too easy to speak his mind around you, lips loose and heart full.

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Micky."

"I mean I really missed you. All the time. I would think about you sometimes and miss what we used to have."

Your eyes were soft and focused only on him. He was barely tipsy from the alcohol but he was definitely drunk on you.

"Then, we were both in F1. But it was the pandemic and I was still worried you didn't want to see me. Then, when I was with Haas, I was so scared to approach you."

"Did I do something to make you think I hated you?"

"No, I was just in my head. And those months preparing for the season with Mercedes were the worst. You were so close but I was still too scared to talk to you."

"I wanted to talk to you, too," you admitted. "I thought about doing it sometimes but... I don't know. We hadn't spoken in so long and I was always so busy. I guess I was scared, too."

"I wish we had spoken sooner. We could have had this so much sooner."

"Had what sooner?"

"I don't know." That was a lie. "This. Us."

In all honesty, Mick didn't know what you two were. To anyone who asked, he would say old friends. But you were much more than that.

When he was ten, Mick kissed you for the first time. He had been in love with you since before he even understood what it meant. There was more heartbreak in the severing of your friendship than your families knew, more than either of you had known at that point.

And now, you were together again. Friends again. Except, friends don't sit knee to knee for hours at a time, wholly absorbed in nothing but each other in a raucous club with post-race celebrations going on all around them.

Friends don't let friends ghost their fingertips over the exposed skin of their shoulders, rest their hands on each other's thighs, play with the ends of their hair or the hem of their clothes.

"I missed us." Mick wondered if you knew what he meant by that.

You smiled (at him, again). "Me, too."

You were so close to him. Any sort of respectable distance was out the window. Your thighs were pressed together. You were sat sideways, head resting in your hand as you leaned an arm on the back of the couch.

He could sit up a little straighter and that was all it would take to reach your lips. He was seriously debating doing it.

Then, your brother smacked the back of your head as he was walking past, said something to you in Dutch that had you cursing at him in the same language.

"Hey, Mick," Max tossed at him with an uncomfortably knowing grin.

"Hey, Max."

Suddenly faced with the older brother of the woman he was just been fantasizing about kissing in the middle of a public space, Mick felt his face grow hot. He couldn't quite make eye contact with the eldest Verstappen child.

"Go away, Max," you told your brother with a glare.

Kelly took pity on you, dragging her boyfriend away.

"What did he say?" Mick asked you.

"'Get a room.'"

Mick laughed nervously, shifted away from you slightly. "Sorry, I—"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Being with you had always been easy. It was maybe the easiest thing Mick had ever done to nod his head yes and let you drag him out of that club.

You sat too close in the cab ride back to the hotel. He stood too close in the elevator up to his hotel room. You held his arm as he fumbled with the keycard to get the door open.

You pushed at his chest to get him to sit on the edge of the bed. He went down willingly, kept his eyes on you the entire time. You stood between his legs, pushed his hair back, let him lean into your touch.

"Is this okay?" you asked.

Were you seriously asking that? He had turned into putty in your hands from just a few touches. You hadn't even kissed him yet.

"Mick," you insisted at his silence.

"Yes. It's okay. It is so okay. Don't stop. Please."

He couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed by just how easily you had reduced him to begging.

Above him, you smiled before leaning down to press your lips to his. His neck was craned back; you had a hand on the back of his head and one on his shoulder to keep him in place. He let you dictate the pace, let you kiss him however you wanted.

It was slow at first, just your lips on his. You set the tempo low, moved your mouth at a torturous pace. You sucked his bottom lips between both of yours. When your tongue finally poked out, he let his jaw slacken, let you lick into his mouth without a need to fight against it.

You slid your tongue against his. The exchange of saliva was erotic and messy and left Mick panting against you. He gripped the backs of your thighs, adjusted his hips, tangled his fingers in the hem of your dress.

Mick slipped into German as he got lost in want. "Liebe, bitte. Bitte, ich brauche dich." [Baby, please. Please, I need you.]

And you—brilliant, keen, genius you—knew what he was saying. When did you learn German? Did you remember enough of it from all the time you had spent with his family as a child? He had no clue.

"Sei geduldig. We will get there." [Be patient.]

"I have been patient for years. Please, Y/N."

You kissed him again to shut him up, faster, harder, sloppier this time. Your hand slid over the column of his throat, just resting there as nothing but a reminder. He keened into your mouth, the vibration getting caught by your hand.

"I love you," he gasped, out of breath.

You drew back.

Mick's heart stopped.

"You love me?"

He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing against your hand. "Yes. I have since we were kids. I don't— I don't want this if this is all it will be. I want everything with you. I want you to love me, too."

Somehow, it was still easy for him to lay all his cards on the table, to let you see everything and wait for your verdict. He was terrified, yes, but he trusted you implicitly.

He loved you and only you—he had only ever loved you this desperately and wholly, thirteen years apart be damned.

"I'm in love with you," he said.

You seemed breathless and speechless all at once.

He knows he said too much. It was definitely overwhelming to have all of that said to you with no warning but once he started, he couldn't stop. He had kept it all to himself for so long, watching from afar, never able to get close to you.

Now, here you were. He only hoped he had not read into things that were not there. He looked up at you, ice blue eyes wide and hopeful, patiently awaiting your response.

"I love you, too," you said on an exhale. "I'm in love with you, too. I thought I was crazy for it but I think I've always loved you."

Mick was not entirely convinced that this all wasn't some sick wet dream he would wake up from in the morning. He didn't care. He couldn't care, not when you slid your hand up to his jaw, held his face so gently, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

"It's always been you, Mick."

He couldn't stop himself anymore. He pulled you close, guided your legs to either side of his hips, held your head and kissed you.

Dominance was shared this time as you kissed each other. You sighed into his mouth, a contented and wanting sound. You rested your arms on his shoulders as your tongues danced. His hands pushed up higher under the skirt of your dress, squeezing the soft skin of your upper thighs.

"Okay?" was the simple question he asked before taking things any further.

"Please."

Supporting your weight, Mick lifted you out of his lap and laid you out on your back. Hovering over you, he slid a hand up your dress to your hip. He caught the waistband of your underwear, glanced up at you to make sure.

You nodded.

He got both hands under your dress to pull your underwear off. He pushed your legs apart and you let them fall open, exposing yourself to him and he nearly moaned at the sight alone.

You were laid open and not quite bare with your dress still on but your pretty pink folds were in clear view. He had never expected to have you in any way, let alone spread open and ready to be ravished, but to say he hadn't imagine it two hundred times over would be a lie.

He moved down your body to kiss your left thigh, first closer to your knee then moving up so the soft, supple skin of your inner thigh. He let his breath fan over your pussy, felt the way you twitched at the sensation. Then, he kissed back down your right leg, trailing kisses down to your knee.

"Mick," you urged.

He bit back the repetition of your words about patience from earlier, instead deciding to be nice and lift your knees up over his shoulders, slide his arms under your legs to warp around and hold them in place, then settle in between your thighs like he had nowhere to be for quite some time.

Your folds were glistening in anticipation by the time his lips met them. He kissed over your aching core one, two, three painfully slow times before finally letting his tongue slot against your clit. His lips moved in tandem with his tongue, sucking and licking at the little bundle of nerves until you threw your head back and choked out a throaty moan.

"Mick—please."

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Mick dropped his head to slide his tongue down between your folds, to press at your entrance over and over, lapping at your pussy in a way that could not care about saliva and slick dripping off his chin.

His nose nudged at your clit. Every breath in was nothing but the scent of you ingraining itself in his brain in a way he will never forget. He would never want to forget a single thing about you in that moment.

Not your scent or the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Not the feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair, not pushing or guiding just holding onto him like you just wanted to have your hands on him in any way you could. Not the way you breathed his name halfway between a moan and a cry, or how you arched your back as you were overwhelmed with bliss.

You were coming apart on his tongue and lips and nothing else. If he could save the taste of you and get high on it every night he would. If he could bottle the feeling of you trying not to squirm under the pleasure that he was bringing you, he would drink himself dumb a thousand times over.

"Mick—!"

He hummed in perfect contentment as you cried his name in warning. Your muscles tensed, legs tried to close around his head as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. He just dug in more, ate you out more fervently, slipped his tongue inside of you until you were gasping from the feeling of it.

When he made you come the first time, it was with a cry of his name and panting moans as you bucked your hips up against his face. He worked you through it, kissing and licking at your clit until you were pushing at his head to pull him off.

When he lifted his face from between your thighs, his face was wet, covered in you and he loved it. You laughed breathlessly as you saw him, still shaking slightly from your orgasm.

"Jeez, Mick. When did you learn to go down on a girl like that?"

He was a little lightheaded and a lot pussy drunk, but he still knew better than to mention any girl he'd been with before. "I want you to be the only girl I ever go down on again."

"Good answer," you said, and pulled him up to kiss you as a reward.

You could probably taste yourself on his lips but didn't seem to care as you kissed him hungrily. You tugged at his shirt, so he pulled it over his head. You ran your hands over his torso unabashedly, feeling his stomach and shoulders, bringing goosebumps to his skin as you ran your fingernails down his chest.

Despite having you crumbling apart under his mouth not three minutes ago, when you climbed into his lap and started kissing his neck, Mick felt like he was short circuiting.

Your dress had fallen back over your hips to hide it but he knew you were uncovered underneath the silky fabric. If his pants were off, he could be inside of you right now.

He slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders as you gripped his jaw and tilted his head to the side to kiss at his neck some more. He went pliantly, moaned softly at the feel of your teeth tugging at the sensitive skin where his neck met his clavicle.

He reached around to your back to unzip your dress. When you slid your arms out of the straps and he pulled the top of the dress down, he was finally able to get his hands on your boobs, taking big handfuls of each.

You were still kissing and licking his neck, teasing your teeth against his skin every so often. When he ran his thumbs over your nipples until they were hard under his fingers, your breaths grew shaky. He carefully let his nails drag over the firm peaks, pinched them between his thumbs and forefingers and tugged until you were arching into him.

"So handsy," you commented breathlessly.

"I want to touch every inch of you until you can recognize me by feel alone."

Mick dropped his head between your breasts, kissed the skin there and the side of your boob before you pushed him back. He whined as you deprived him of becoming acquainted with another part of yourself he already knew he would never get enough of.

Then, you stood and stepped out of your dress to leave yourself bare. He couldn't find a reason to complain.

He was prepared to slide to the floor at your feet. Then, you beckoned him toward you.

You had him sit at the edge of the bed again. You dropped to your knees. You popped the button of his pants. You pulled his boxers down just enough, and then his cock was stood at full attention just in front of your face.

He cursed under his breath. You heard it and smirked before licking up the underside of his cock. You wrapped a warm hand around him, stroked him a few times while kitten licking at his tip.

"Y/N. Liebe, please. Y/N, please."

You were not as easily convinced to dive in and give Mick what he wanted as he was with you. You didn't change what you were doing, just continued to let the tip of your tongue dance along the top of his cock while your hand moved on him slowly.

You finally closed your lips over the head of his dick and Mick could have come from that and nothing more. You popped him out of your mouth with an audible noise. Mick groaned; you would be the death of him and he wouldn't even fight against it.

You shot him a Cheshire grin. The sight was lewd and unbelievably hot: you, with a hand around his cock and a big smile on your face like you enjoyed nothing more than sucking him off. Mick was going to combust if he wasn't inside of you in the next two minutes.

"Y/N—"

He tried to tell you as much but your mouth was on him again and he couldn't get the words out. You swirled your tongue around his head, then your jaw opened and and you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. It was warm and wet.

Your tongue flexed against the underside of his dick when it hit the back of your throat. He could feel himself press into your soft pallet until you had to come up for air with a slight gag.

He couldn't bring himself to make you stop when you went back in for more. His breaths were short and labored, legs tense under your free hand as he mentally and physically had to hold himself back from coming down your throat.

He could imagine how you would gag around him when he did, pulling up to take his load just behind your lips instead. You might open your mouth after he had finished, show him your handiwork as it was pooled on your tongue before swallowing it all.

"Y/N, you have to stop. I'm going to come."

You took him out of your mouth to press a sloppy kiss to his cock. You pouted up at him as you let his length rest against your face. He could feel your eyelashes against it when you blinked.

"You don't want me to make you come?"

"I don't want to be spent yet. Come lay down for me?"

You let him pull you off the floor, kissed him as you crawled up the bed and laid yourself out on your back. He managed to kick his pants and boxers off while searching his suitcase for a condom then get back over to you without tripping over his own feet.

You giggled at his eagerness. Your hands ran over his chest as he ripped the packet open and slid the condom on. Your legs were already parted for him as he positioned himself.

He glanced up at you, not nervous but checking in. Your gaze was set on where your two bodies were about to fit together, hungry and expectant. Who was Mick to deprive you of what you wanted?

Entering you was as easy as anything with you was. You were still soaked from Mick's saliva and your own fluids. Your mouth fell open and your walls fluttered around him. A moan croaked past your lips as you gripped his arms.

"Holy shit, Mick."

He had to be sure, so he asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm in fucking ecstasy. Oh my god, baby."

Mick started moving his hips, long, slow strokes in and out as you keened beneath him, panting from almost nothing at all. He could live off the noises you made for him. He snapped his hips against yours, was rewarded with a gasp and startled little mewl and your fingernails digging into his biceps.

"Mick, please."

He continued the same slow pace. In and out, almost languid, near torture but so worth the desperate way you pulled at his shoulders and hips, physically trying to get him to speed up, to give you more.

"Mick. Go faster."

"I love you." Anything for you.

He made a smooth transition from rolling his hips against yours to making them a piston, pace and weight faster and harder. He bore down on you heavier. You cried out, dragging your nails down his back to only spur him on.

He sat back, pressed down on you with his hands on the backs of your knees to fold you in half. You couldn't easily get away from him when he had you pinned down like this, thighs spread wide and pussy bared to be split open on his cock. You tipped your head back and moaned loudly.

"You've got to try and be quiet, baby," he told you; you were still in a hotel.

"You're making it really difficult."

Mick grinned but eased off just a bit. "Sorry—"

"Don't you fucking dare. Fuck me, Schumacher. Fuck me hard."

So, he did.

You were sticky, shaking, and more than satisfied when Mick was through with you. Three more orgasms, four different positions, and five I love you's later, you had passed out against Mick's chest after he had carefully wiped you clean.

The next morning, you and Mick came down for breakfast together. Max was already there; you usually ate breakfast with your brother if you were staying in the same hotel because there wasn't much time to see him elsewhere on race weekends.

When he clocked the way you and Mick were so casually close together, the little looks you kept sneaking, he smacked a hand on the table and pointed an accusatory finger in your face.

"I knew it!"

Mick went red.

You just rolled your eyes. "Shut up, Max."

. . .

a/n. this was partially inspired by this one max fic i read a while ago that i couldn't find again. it's schumacher!reader x max and reader is the one to tell michael about how jos treats max then reader and max reconnect years later. i think it was inspired by "seven" by taylor swift.

if anyone can find it/the author lmk and i'll give credit! hope you enjoyed <3

edit: credit is due to @mastermind123 (who i cannot tag for some reason) and their story, seven. go read it; it’s so cute!!

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calaverage · 2 days

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[ Pete looks at the contact on his phone, listed as Cal. He closes his eyes as silent tears fall, pressing the call button to which it goes to voicemail. Of course it would, they aren’t alive.

. . .

‘Hey it’s Pete. Uh, you’re probably never gonna hear or see this. I’ve been told you’re gonna be back, but I.. have no idea. I don’t know what I would’ve said if you did answer. It’s been a bit since,

There’s a pause.

Yeah. Uh. Anyway, even if you won’t get this

Pete sniffles.

Just wanted to talk to you, or pretend to. You told me about everything, with Perry, with Lawson, with everyone and I’ve kinda just.. been in shock. I didn’t register everything you told me at that moment, I don’t hate you or anything. You couldn’t.. have known, I didn’t either. It’s sort of my fault for not seeing any red flags or anything, for it to end up this way. How was I so oblivious,

He chuckles.

I’ve been rambling for so long I am pretty fucking sure if you are listening you’d lose interest by now. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing; I just talk alot sometimes you know? I’m more of a listener guy myself, people can back me up on that! Especially Ruth and Rue, believe me I’ve gone through hours of them..

Um.

I hope you’ll be okay. I hope we’ll be okay after all this. I miss you more than anything. I, love you.

I’m probably gonna try to sleep, but knowing me I won’t. Ahaha.. yeah. ‘ ]

@pete-spankoffski

[They had heard the phone ring. They could tell who was calling. They selfishly clung to every word. He was wrong. About so much. But there was one thing they couldn't let go. It's what gave them the strength to go into his phone and let their distorted voice through the speaker.]

...it's not your fault

#hatchetfield rp

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lilghostiequinni · 3 days

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Truths. What's Yours?

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Leclerc!female reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy, little Angst, Overprotective brothers, Inurendo, Established relationship

Summary: She never told her brother of her lover, but everything comes to light, even if that truth is only revealed three almost four years later.

Requested: NO / yes

One thing you knew was how overprotective your brothers can be, so when you started dating your boyfriend, your brothers were not told about the safety of your boyfriend.

Of course, your mother knew, though, she was amazing and would keep your secret until you were ready, but she still pushed for you to tell your brothers the truth.

It was never meant to be kept a secret, but every time you tried to tell your brothers, they would laugh it off as a joke or be too busy to hear what you had to say on the matter of your boyfriend and dating.

Lando and you are sitting in your shared Monaco apartment, which your brothers think is just yours.

The two of you are just lounging in the living room, talking about what you each want from life, eventually in the future.

Just lounging there, doing nothing wrong, you move over to Lando's lap, kissing him as you do. He moves to grab and hold your hips as you sit on his lap.

Your hands are around his neck, one just resting and the other in Lando's curls, the ones you so love. Lando has one hand on your hip, just under your shirt, and the other on the side of your neck to stop you from pulling away.

Even though you didn't want to.

There were only three other people on the grid who knew of your relationship, Oscar because he walked in on you, George also knew, but that was because he was with Oscar when he found out, and Max because he just somehow knew.

Well, there was also another Max, the one not on the grid that was Lando's best friend, but that's a given.

Your best friend was Oscar, and your female best friend was his girlfriend, Lily.

Anyway, back to now, you were kissing your boyfriend, when suddenly your door had burst open and in came your older brother, Charles.

Charles stopped, and you and Lando broke apart in a rush. The three of you just stared at each other, you and Lando staring at Charles, and Charles staring at the two of you.

All while Lando had his one hand on your arse and the other in your shirt, groping you.

For a few very long moments, everything is silent.

"What the hell?" Charles yells out as he breaks the silence.

You and Lando scramble away from each other like you did something wrong.

"With Lando!"

"Char, pl..."

"No, bu... How? When?" Charles is rendered speechless.

"Charles, I'm sorry," Lando says quietly, knowing this isn't how he should've found out.

"Char, I love you, but I love Lando, too," You start to tell your brother.

"How long?" Charles asks, quieter than before, but he still doesn't move from his spot.

"Almost four years," You say in almost a whisper, knowing that it'll just make it worse. "I tried to tell you so many times, and I did tell you, but you didn't listen."

"All those times you said something, and we brushed you off, but four years?" Charles asks, his hand going to his forehead in a 'oh my god' manner.

You wring your hands together nervously, "I... I..."

Charles takes a deep breath and then just walks out of your apartment, leaving you with tears in your eyes.

You turn to Lando, and he just opens his arms. Seeing the tears in your eyes, he wraps his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin, one hand around you and the other on the back of your head.

Charles hadn't talked to you in over a month, and you were expecting him to give you the silent treatment, but it doesn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

After trying to talk to him over the first race weekend, which wasn't a good result, he just walked away. You stayed in the McLaren garage and paddock for every race weekend after.

But what you didn't know was that Lando was also trying to talk to Charles, and the fans caught on to you, and Charles was not speaking at all and that Lando was somehow envolved.

"Charles, I know you hate me, but please listen to me, please," Lando begged the Ferrari driver.

Charles stopped and looked at him with an eye roll.

"Listen, I know you don't want to hear this from me, but she tried to tell you when we knew for sure when we were serious about six months in. I know that we both could've tried harder, but we didn't know how. Then she just sort of gave up, I know that makes it worse, but..."

"Listen, Lando, do you love my sister? Like actually love, and you're not stringing her along for the last few years?" Charles asked the McLaren driver.

"Yeah, I was waiting until you and your brothers knew to ask for your blessing to marry her and build a life with her. I've had the ring for months," Lando tells your older brother.

Charles takes a deep breath, "Yeah, meet me and our brothers at her favorite restaurant tonight at 7."

Lando smiles at him and nods.

Lando convinced you to go out, no matter how much you didn't want to.

He took you to do all these other things you wanted to do and then brought you back for the both of you to change and then brought you to your favorite restaurant.

When you arrived and were brought back to your table, you saw your three brothers sitting there. It brought tears to your eyes.

You rushed over to hug them, and they just wrapped you in their embrace.

"I'm sorry I didn't let you explain further," Charles whispers in your ear.

"WE are sorry we didn't take you seriously for four years," Lorenzo says, emphasizing the 'we.'

After that, dinner goes rather smoothly, and there are no other bumps; well, there is a joke Authur makes that makes the other two brothers uncomfortable, and he pointedly looks at the youngest of the three.

When dinners are over, you hug your brothers, and when you turn to Lando, he's down on one knee, ring in hand.

"I love you, I want to spend my forever with you. You are the only one I see every day, every morning, every night I want to see you. I want you to be my forever because, to me, you are. You are my first thought in the morning and my last before I fall asleep. You are always the first thing I want to see and see in the morning, and you are the last thing I want to see and see before bed every night. There are more words I could use to describe my feelings for you, but there are never going to be enough words to describe my love for you. Will you do me the honor of making me the happiest man ever and marry me?" There are tears in Lando's eyes, but they haven't fallen. you have tears streaming down your face, and for the moment, all you can do is nod.

You kneeled down in front of Lando and whispered, "Yes," as you held his face, he took your hand and put the ring on you, and then you kissed him.

He helped you stand, and you turn to your brothers. Authur comes over and starts fangirling with you making your other two brothers and your fiance chuckle at you two.

A/N: See you later, just a reminder the poll ends at noon CST in the US.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

#lando norris x reader #ln4 #lando norris #f1 #formula 1 #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris social media au #lando x reader

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dollypopup · 1 day

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I can't stop thinking about Colin on his travels. Colin, alone, on a journey to 17 different cities, across several countries. Colin on his own.

Colin who writes letter after letter, to his family, to his friends, and barely gets a response back. How long before he understands that they didn't get lost in the mail? How long until he realizes that, just like when he was a boy, no one has the time for him? The space for him? How many letters unanswered before he lets it finally take root and fester in his mind?

He could have died on that tour.

Would they even notice? Would they see when the letters slow until they cease? Would they wonder why? His mum, surely (maybe, possibly, but she has enough on her hands, besides, and he's never been a concern, in need of her assistance, before), but anyone else? Anthony on his honeymoon, Eloise a stormcloud personified, Benedict taking on the familial responsibilities, Fran preparing for the marriage mart and in Bath, regardless. Daphne, his closest sister, a mum running her own estate.

Greg and Hyacinth who enjoy his stories, but are children.

Pen who ignores him. No explanation, no goodbye.

Colin who has no one in his corner. Colin who travels city to city, putting on personas. Will they like me? What about now? Colin who has hardly anything to read from the people he loves. Who do not think of him.

And yet he thinks of them. Brings them back gifts, writes his recollections for them until it hits him that, oh, they don't care. They don't care what he's doing, how he's doing. They didn't want to hear it before, when he was there with them, and they do not want to hear it now, either. Did they even open those envelopes? Did they see them come through the post, just as proof he's alive, and shrug off the contents? Did they look? Once, Colin sends an empty page. No one notices. Easier, then, to send just the outsides. People only ever care about the outsides. Pretty and prim in neat packages, uncaring of what lies beneath. Sea sick on the rocking boats, staring up at stars on the continent, Colin grows aware, but not bitter. Sad, but resigned.

He loves his family, he loves Pen, loves them to grace, loves them to it's okay. It was him, he determines. Too chatty, his letters too long, uninteresting, his passions dull or droll, or else, worse, he's displeased them in some way. Colin who takes refuge in stranger's arms and homes, who dreams and tries to sate his curiosity. Colin who pretends, because anyone, anyone but him would be received better, he's sure of it. Colin who must talk too much, surely, and with no one to listen. Colin who learns to hush.

Yes. Remarkable- as in, I have many remarks about it.

How many times did he go to excitedly write of what he did that week, and stopped himself, knowing it was a waste? How many times did he write and throw into the fire a letter asking Why don't you see me? Why don't you care?

If he didn't make it, how long would it take for anyone to notice? A month? Two? A year? Would they wave it off as his frivolity, denounce him as a flake and fume about the funds? Would they wonder where it was he had lost himself off at?

He cannot fall into that, so, he writes in his journal, instead. Of the ache of it, of how he longs for connection, for understanding, for someone to take him seriously. He keeps it with him, this log of his discontent, of his folly and felicity, of his pitfalls and pains.

If he didn't make it, would they realize all that's left of him is what he sent them, not even a body to bury? Did he look over the side of a bow of a boat and look at the churn of the ocean and think of how many bones it held? Did he tip his face to the sun? How many new scars did he earn? Who did he befriend?

Who did he become?

Somewhere along the line, Colin learned. He learned the real him wasn't wanted.

Somewhere along the line, somewhere between Patmos and Paris, Colin left Colin behind.

And, somewhere along the line, Colin laid face to face with loneliness in his bed, and it wrapped its arms around him.

#colin bridgerton #bridgerton #polin #say what you will- i understand why pen did it- but i still think ghosting your friend with no explanation #when he's off on a journey he could very well die on. . .not great #and what the fuck else was his family doing that they couldn't respond to his letters? they are aristocrats living in an off season #in the country- write a letter back to your son/brother who could perish in a land where no one knows him #idk i think about this a lot like colin was just. . .so uncared for and so unseen #he went off on travels to Europe in the early 1800s #anything could have killed him #and eloise last told him his letters slogged on and on and if he liked it so much he should have stayed #in an ideal world when colin said he apologized for what he said pen would ALSO apologize for not telling him sooner #i don't think she realizes just how lonely colin actually is #just how unseen he is #she thinks like so many others think that he's a popular man and oh so well regarded #that colin isn't real #colin isn't listened to- i wish more people would have empathy for him about that

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sinistarz · 2 days

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I feel like... a lot of people seem to forget how genuinley important C-3PO is to Anakin.

When Anakin first found C-3PO in a junk pile, he took him home and put him back together for the sake of helping his mother. He wanted to give Shmi a droid to help her around the house because her life as a slave was so difficult. He loved his mother so much that he gave her C-3PO.

When Anakin left to become a Jedi, Shmi never sold C-3PO. He was her only reminder of Anakin. And even when Shmi was sold to Cliegg, C-3PO came with. He was either sold alongside her or she insisted he be brought with. Shmi refused to part with C-3PO. She took him everywhere, he was Anakins gift to her.

When Anakin returned to Tattoine a decade later to find his mother, C-3PO was there. C-3PO had spent the last ten years with Shmi. Waiting with her, alongside her, every day, waiting for Anakin's return home. He had ten years worth of memories to share with Anakin. He was probably so eager to share them, and Anakin so eager to hear them.

When Anakin married Padmé, he couldn't give her a wedding band. He had none to give her anyway. Instead, he gave her C-3PO. He gave Padmé what he considered to be his most valuable possesion as a wedding gift. He gave Padmé the only physical memory of his mother he had- the droid he had put back together for her.

Sometimes I think about the fact that protocol droids can record and play back voice recordings. And the fact that Shmi probably talked about how much she missed Anakin to C-3PO, so very much. And sometimes I think to myself- what if C-3PO recorded Shmi's voice from some of those talks? What if, because of C-3PO, Anakin was able to hear his mothers voice again, even after her death?

I think about that a lot.

#anakin skywalker #c-3po #c3po #star wars #star wars prequels #sw tcw #tcw #swtcw #padme amidala #anidala

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rreids · 7 hours

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LIAR • S. REID X READER

gn reader; fluff despite the title; unestablished relationship; kissing; a little banter; like ~1k

Rossi’s house was beautiful. Even having been over dozens of times, you find yourself drawn to explore and wander on the property to admire the architecture.

It’s also a good excuse for when you’re found out for having left the gathering, well over thirty minutes ago. You step out to be alone and catch a breath, and when Morgan or JJ finds you? Just one quick ‘oh, I just got distracted by this part of the stairs and its railings! I had been reading about the origins of this style and why it grew in popularity, do you want to hear? was enough to get a polite smile and your peace and quiet back.

Unfortunately, this tactic didn’t work on Spencer.

“What are you doing out in the garden?”

“Just looking at the roses!” You smile up at him sweetly, bat your lashes. “I heard there are new roses being bred to have more natural resistance to insects. You think I should talk to Rossi about it? He complains that his bushes get eaten.”

Spencer hums. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Just… um, just in an article. I forget where I read it.”

He levels you in his gaze. “You know, you’re an awful liar.”

“That’s not true,” you mumble, turning your chin down and to the side. “I’m great at lying.”

Spencer chuckles. “Really? And you’re proud of it?”

“Mhm. They call me the best liar in the West.”

“You live in Virginia.”

“And, somehow, I’m still the best in the West. So I’m really, really good.”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Can I meet the people saying this? I doubt they’ve met many liars, if you’re their golden standard. Because, as a profiler, I think you’re an absolutely awful liar, __.” You pout and turn to meet his gaze again. “You’re an open book. Everything’s laid out on your face.”

You try to school your expression quickly but fail, smiling and laughing softly. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah,” his voice is softer now. You can’t put your finger on what’s so different, but it has you relaxing without meaning to. “You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

He takes a step closer — just one — but your breath hitches slightly. He’s close enough you can feel the warmth radiating off him, a nice contrast to the night air, and smell a mix of wine and his cologne.

“Maybe it’s just to me.” He sounds like he’s come to a revelation, in a way, features relaxing into the beginnings of a small smile.

“What?” you manage to ask, voice remarkably level for the way your heart is beginning to race as you study the shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the softness to his features among all the sharp angles and signs of age. As you look into his eyes, eyes that are clearly studying you, you see them somehow glow with a warmth and fondness that makes you ache.

“I think you’re only this open with me,” Spencer answers, voice softening impossibly more as his fingers wrap around your wrist. He can feel your pulse thrumming with your nerves and your hyperfocus on the way his thumb rubs your skin soothingly. “Why is that?”

“I’m open with everyone I care about.”

“Sure,” he agrees. “But I don’t think you’re like this with everyone.”

“Like what?”

“Vulnerable.” You don’t speak. You can barely even breathe. He’s so close to you. “I think,” his eyes drop briefly to your lips. “That you want me to understand your feelings. That’s why you wear your heart on your sleeve, don’t filter the truth of your opinions or thoughts from me.” Spencer’s head tilts down and to the right slightly. “You want me to see you.”

You nod. “Yeah.” It’s breathless, airy and a barely there whisper. “I do.”

Spencer kisses you.

Your fingers grab the sides of his jacket and pull him towards you with a weak tug. It’s everything you could have wanted, that you could dream of — that you have dreamt of, waking up hopelessly alone and frustrated when you realize none of the tenderness in his touch was real. It is like he sees you. Understands you.

His rhythm matches yours perfectly and smoothly, no awkward clashing of teeth or weird bumps of noses and foreheads. Just soft kisses that build and build, give and take in equal parts until both of you are breathless. He pulls back first, and your eyes flutter open to see red spots high on his cheekbones and a sparkle to his eyes.

“__,” Spencer whispers and you nod, hands still fisted in the fabric of his clothing. “Can I ask you a question?”

You tug him a little closer, smile as you say “you already did” before nodding.

“Am I right in thinking you would like this to happen more than once?”

You let out a sound that’s a mix of a scoff and a laugh. “No.” You can’t even believe your own lie, and he just grins. “Of course I do, Spencer. But you’ve got to at least take me out to dinner,”

He kisses your smile away and pulls back when he’s unable to tamper his own enough to kiss you properly. “Would you like to go to dinner?”

“You’re not full of carbonara?”

Spencer shakes his head. “I still have some room. I can manage some shitty fast food and fries over a milkshake. You know anyone who’d be interested?”

You smile. “Depends on the milkshake.”

“Chocolate, of course,” Spencer brushes hair off your temple.

You hum. “With whipped cream and you have a deal.”

Spencer smiles. “As long as the cherry on top is another kiss.”

It was. Along with another. And another. And a lipstick mark on his cheek that he told you he would get tattooed. Your horrified expression had made him laugh, and he told you he was a far better liar than you.

unfortunate but true: local girl has forgotten how to write and lost any semblance of a style she had going. i hate how this came out much like everything else i have written recently. big feeling of: i will never have a compelling way of writing that hooks the audience and feels natural everything is stilted and bad and not descriptive in the way i want.

#my works #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff

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cvnt4him · 3 days

Text

................................................

"woah would you look at that, deku just took out that guy with a single punch!"

"he's so amazing!~"

"you're my hero!!!"

So many people chant, root, and holler for even the slightest glimpse of his attention, even a glance.

"Mr deku, what can you tell us about this villain, you hadn't even put up much of a hassle and yet he appears to be tired!" One report gleams.

It's true. He hadn't done too much, one simple practically, light punch and the criminal was already down, he knew that. Deku knew he was good, he knew others thought he was good. He thrived on that kind of energy.

"oh~, well you know, I'm not one to brag nor bring other people down, criminal or not we're all human." He sings to the reporter, hinting at the fact she gave the measly little lowlife schmuck at best, a promotion to 'villian'. cameras flashing everywhere as he heard a bunch of girlish screams, everyone looks over to see a bunch of fan girls rallying to get an autograph.

Dammit.

Izuku tried so hard not to let his smile faulter, its not that he disliked his fans, really he could never, he knows one of the reasons he's here is because of his fans, and he loves them all equally no matter what. However. scrolling on the Internet, especially as a pro hero it's hard not to go down a loophole of your own fans. Izukus fans are nice, sure. But they're also bat shit crazy.

Doxxing people for disagreeing, assuming he was gay for his best friend dynamite, writing fanfiction about him and his best friend dynamite, assuming he had a new significant other because he changed up his style of clothing??

Really his fans are too much, he loves them, he does. But they are just so...smothering?

As he sees the fans hurrying toward him he tries his hardest to jump away as he was stopped by a little deaf girl who wanted an autograph.

Shit. You can't NOT give a little deaf girl an autograph it'd be bad publicity. he sighs deeply in defeat, knowing how easily persuaded he is, he'll most likely be there standing, on his feet, smiling wide and big for fans, for the next hour and a half.

Izuku sighed deeply through his nose as he finally, after 5 more hours of working, made it back to his bed, that's all he wanted. He didn't bother taking his suit off just simply jumping in his bed and groaning at the comfort he longed for.

He grabbed his phone and opened Twitter.. that was the first mistake of the night, he scrolled through his feed coming across a post of a girl just rambling about her ever lasting love for deku.

He shifted in his bed so now he was laying back on his pillows, turning up the sound to hear your beautifully slurred voice.

"- like bro.. I don't think any of you understand how my NEED for this man is like just.. sigh. I'm about to go crazy bro. If I were given the chance I'd do unholy. Unspeakable. Down right horrendous things to this man, i- aHaAVE YOU SEEN HIS NEW HERO SUIT??" You were talking to your friend who had the idea to start recording you while you were drunk, laughing and snorting at you.

The video was posted by you, the caption read; 'my friend started recording while i was drunk and i randomly went on a rant ab my love for the #1 hero 💀'

He snickered at this, genuinely finding it funny, but sooner or later it registered in his brain what you'd said..you'd do what to him.

Before he knew it he was semi hard, he looked down at his slight hard on confused, there is no way this turned him on?? He had been sent so many videos of his fan girls from all ages going down on a dildo with his name slapped on it, he never found it the least but attractive, just kind of desperate..

He watched the video again, his cock becoming fully erect as he sighed at the uncomfortable feeling of his now leaking, completely hard cock, rubbing against his suit pants.

It had been a while since he'd done something like this.. since he had used someone..he needed this, just to relax. Just a couple of strokes to get him to come, that's all.

He let out a shaky sigh, slowly trailing his thick fingers up and down his clothed cock, earning a light squeak to rip from his throat due to the slight pleasure he felt from the gentle actions.

He knew he needed it, he needed this so badly, but he wouldn't rush it. He hated when he rushed things, he says 'they never get done correctly'.

So he would be patient with himself, gently palming himself over his suit pants, letting breathy sighs leave his slightly dried and chapped lips.

He looked over to his phone to see the paused video...

'oh what the hell.' he thought to himself as he grabbed the phone, angling and holding it close to his ear to hear your voice and the loud laughs that he hopefully tried to blur out of his mind. Focusing on your voice fully.

He held the phone close to his ear closing his eyes listening to your slurred speech, and the hiccups and giggles that left your mouth, he bit his lip as his palming motions began to get harder and more rough, "I would do down right horrendous things to this man." That line stuck with him, that's what made him undo his pants and shimmy them off so he could fully touch his leaking, crying cock.

He groaned in embarrassment and disgust in himself at the sight of his already soaked boxers, why did his cock have to be so leaky!!

He whimpered at the sight, pulling his boxers down just enough to have his cock hit against himself. He wrapped two fingers around his cock and rolled his eyes back, biting his lip to sustain the sound that wanted to come out. He stroked himself slowly, letting the precum on his tip continue to drip down his thick cock.

He had listened to the audio all over again this time fixating on the part where you'd talked about his suit. He had changed up his suit a couple of times, never really straying away from the original concept he had in highschool, the green was always there to stay, and he always liked the fact his suit was more of a jumpsuit kind of thing, but changing it over the years, he went with a tighter fabric for his new and improved suit, removing the bunny ears at the back, and adding a white cape, replacing his huge bulky gloves with just as thick, smaller and well fitted ones, the white the painted his suit was now black.

He hadn't done much to his suit really.

But you and so many others thought it was the sexiest thing in the world.

He loved that, that you loved his suit, he whimpered in a pitchy octave, eyes crossing as he shut them, breaths becoming uneven as he wraps his whole hand around his aching, dripping, cock. It yearned for release, he needed it, it hurt so bad but felt so good he couldn't stop, he was sooo close!

So so close, and yet.. not close enough to get him there. He abandoned all self respect and hope for 'not rushing things' he needed to come and the only way he could is if he really touched himself.

He ripped off the top of his hero suit before rummaging in his bedside drawer to grab a Fleshlight, it was a lot more advanced than your normal average pussy shaped fleshie, it had handle and so many different modes!!! It vibrated and wiggled and had a squirt thingy that shot lube inside to make his cock slippery, not that he'd need it, his cock is like a water fountain with so much cum to give.

He turned it onto its highest setting before settling his twitching cock, dribbling with precum, inside of it.

He couldn't contain the line of moans that ripped out of him, he wanted to really he did, he wanted to keep quiet for his neighbors but he just couldn't, he felt so fucking good, he'd felt that he'd never been this hot or bothered before especially not because of some measly audio that wasn't in any way remotely sexual, and yet he was so close to cumming because of it. This video. This person. You.

You were so close to making him cum.. he was right there bucking his hips up into the contraption, shaking, whilst his whole body spasmed as he threw his head back, sweat dripping from his tired and spent body, he groaned and moaned so loudly it was so lewd, he was so lewd. He couldn't believe what he was doing, he felt so dirty, but in this very moment, he couldn't care. He was so drunk off of the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving that all he wanted, needed, was to cum.

And when he finally released with a high pitched moan, globs of tears leaving his rolled eyes, there was so much, ropes of his white, hot, thick cum squirting inside of the toy. It was still vibrating against his softening cock, it made him so overstimulated yet he couldn't move, his orgasm was so strong he didn't have the energy to take his cock out. He just sat there, holding onto the toy that continuously vibrated and massaged his limp, thick, crying cock, crying, sniffing, and whimpering.

Hell he'd probably already came again without even knowing it, his orgasms had gone on for a while, he still couldn't move, just blissfully laying against his bed, covered in sweat and tears streaming down his reddened freckled face.

As he regained his composure, the overstimulation was more than enough, he hiccuped, wiping his face from the tears and sweat that covered it, as he turned off the toy and tossed it off of his bed, he was half naked, hot, and hungry.

He groaned as he draped one of his arms over his face, feeling the sweat and tears cover his forearm, as he heard the video that had been playing over and over again on repeat. His eyes shot wide open as he scurried to grab his phone. he looked at the video in disgust. Had he really just gone to a new low, and came to this stupid video of a dumb drunk girl complimenting him??

His post nut clarity was always bad, especially because he did some pretty down bad, disgusting, sinful things. But this? Yeah he deserved to suffer for all eternity.

He groaned placing his phone under his pillow as he buried his face in said pillow, squeezing his eyes shut at how hard he'd came, his cock still filthy and sticky with his thick ooey gooey cum, now dirtying his bed.

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AN: he hates himself for how much and how hard he came, he really does.

I'm making a pt 2🤭

#deku smut #deku x reader #izuku is so girlie pop #izuku x reader #boku no hero academia #mha #mha x reader #cvnts-post

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politemenacephd · 1 day

Text

Hunger

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader (+18)

You're alone with your new boss Miguel in his office, and you decide to finally ask a question you've been harboring for a while: Is he really a vampire?

CW/Content: Description of blood, Miguel has a blood-drinking/cannibalism fetish, Mutual masturbation, messy kissing, consensual kink, dirty talk, hand job/clitoral stimulation. Notes: hiiii I'm back finally, back to writing anyway, life beat me half to death but I'm back and I'm horny. hope yall enjoy

‘Are you really a vampire, boss?’

Miguel flinched, his enormous body going rigid midway through typing. He’d been about to send a message to Lyla when that question was asked, but now suddenly all of his iron-tight focus was gone. With narrowed eyes he turned and glanced down at you, the person who’d asked such an odd question out of nowhere.

‘Am… Am I a really a vampire? Is that what you just asked me?’ he replied back in a cool, slightly cold voice.

You were both up on his floating desk, with you dangling your legs over the side into the gloomy abyss below while he basked in the warm, orange light of his desk monitors. While he turned to glance down at you, you didn’t return the favor, and continued to stare at the slightly misty darkness below.

‘That’s what I asked boss, that is correct’ you replied.

Miguel grunted, his lip curling ever so slightly. He was trying to be polite, he really was, but he was regretting more and more letting Lyla hire someone to help out with the mundane chores around his office. Maybe if she’d just hired someone… quieter… this wouldn’t be such a hassle, but instead, he was stuck with you.

When you beamed up at him again, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘No puedo más’, he hissed under his breath, ‘no! No, I’m not a vampire.’ He was trying to speak diplomatically but the intensity in his voice remained, that sharp authoritative bark that usually made people listen.

‘It’s not an issue if you are, I don’t mind’ you said cheerily.

I don’t believe you, Miguel thought to himself, though he didn’t say it.

‘Oh, good. Great. Well, I’ll keep that in mind if we ever do become a real vampire, won’t I?’ Miguel replied in that slightly sarcastic tone.

‘Boss, I’m serious’ you said again, lightly rolling your shoulders as you lay back down across the floor of his floating desk. You could see his body above you, so lean and powerful, and yet you showed no fear or concern.

‘I’m just… curious’ you continued. ‘I’ve heard the other newer members saying it, and, you know. It’s an odd rumor if true.’

‘Who did you hear saying such things?’

His sharp tone made you flinch, and you awkwardly hunched your shoulders. ‘Uh- just, a few people’ you said, not wishing to snitch anyone out. ‘They mentioned it a few times, enough times for me to think it wasn’t just a joke. So, I wanted to ask. That’s all.’

‘Eso es ridículo… No, I’m not a vampire’ Miguel finally grunted, his sharp features glowing in the light of his monitors. ‘I have fangs, and red eyes, but not- that’s not because I’m a vampire.’

‘So, what did cause that?’ you piped up. ‘The uh- fangs, and stuff. Because nobody else here has those traits, right?’

Miguel’s eye twitched as he strained to be polite. ‘I was mutated with a spider. That’s why. No vampirism, nothing supernatural, just… spider.’

‘Riiggghhtt, but… Spiders are cannibals, right? Quite famously’ you replied smoothly. He hissed, his head spinning until you caught just a glimpse of his eye. It was burning red, almost glowing.

‘What do you- can we please stop this?’ he snapped.

You flinched only a little at his sharp retort. He was usually polite, and restrained, even when irritated, but that sudden burst of anger betrayed something more serious. You slowly raised your hands. ‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Really, I’m- sorry.’

Miguel curtly nodded and returned to his desk, but now he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t get it off his mind.

Could you tell? Could you somehow see his deepest, grossest inner thoughts? The thoughts he hated?

The instincts that made him salivate at the thought of soft flesh in his mouth, of licking the sweat aside and smearing the skin with venom to numb it, so their breath wouldn’t catch, so they wouldn’t scream, so he could feel that soft skin puncture and give way to his fangs, letting him in, letting him deep inside, filling his mouth with—

‘Boss?’

Miguel blinked himself back to reality. He glanced down; he’d gotten so carried away he’d sunk his claws into his desk, piercing right through the metal. He slowly retracted them.

Another reminder that he wasn’t human, he thought sourly.

But you didn’t scream or look at him in disgust. That’s what he was used to. Instead, you looked genuinely concerned. ‘Boss, hey, look I didn’t- I didn’t wanna upset you’ you said, keeping a low voice. ‘I was genuinely asking before, not in like a morbidly curious way, I just… I don’t know. I wanted to be, considerate, if that was the case. I wasn’t trying to be cruel.’

Miguel scowled. ‘Calling it a… vampire thing, or, implying I am a vampire, that… How is that not going to come across as cruel?’

‘Well vampire isn’t necessarily a bad thing’ you argued back, ‘I didn’t mean it like—’

His cold, sharp stare drew you to silence, and you pursed your lips.

‘No, you’re right. You’re right! You are, I’m- I’m sorry. I am, really.’

Miguel stared down at you as you apologized. His lip was still curled a little, his brows knotted, but they started to loosen when he saw the sincerity in your expression.

‘… I’m, not used to anyone not being morbidly curious’ he muttered quietly. ‘Or, disgusted, or afraid, or—’

‘Jesus! No, I’m not disgusted or afraid. I mean look! I’m here, on your platform, no escape. Eh? That’d be a weird thing for me to do if I thought you were an evil bloodthirsty beast.’

Your cheery tone and smile faded a little as he shot you another disapproving look, but this time he didn’t snap or turn away. Instead, he coughed into his fist, and began a very curt explanation.

‘Hm. Look, I was mutated with a spider, physically, and it… gave me some, unusual traits. More, primal traits, I guess. I’m not some rabid animal though.’

‘I know, I know. I never said rabid’ you replied, suddenly very eager that Miguel was actually responding. ‘Just… Do you, need to engage in certain types of, ‘consumption’ so to speak?’ you asked softly.

‘I don’t… Need to, I don’t think’ he muttered back, awkwardly swiping a few holograms aside. ‘But, it- the rumors come from the fact that, it gives me some… Urges.’

You nodded along slowly, trying desperately to manage your growing excitement. Yes, yes, urges. Urges. That’s why you were here.

‘Hm… Do you, get the urge to eat people, then? Or is that an unfair rumor?’ you asked, trying to keep it light and polite as you buried your desires down.

Miguel grunted softly. ‘… Sort of’ he murmured. ‘My instinct goes against my better nature, sometimes. So, I try to… keep them in balance.’

‘How so?’

Miguel swallowed. He shouldn’t be talking about this.

‘I, uh… I desire, certain, non-lethal things’ he murmured, speaking as stiffly and awkwardly as possible to cover up how he felt.

But you just kept pushing. You wanted more.

‘Right… So, for example… Biting?’ you said, whispering that last word ever so softly.

Just the word made Miguel almost involuntarily hiss. His spine arched by an inch and his hand balled itself into a fist as he fought to maintain control, to not act on his awful desire and snap his teeth and imagine that soft, soft, sweet neck in his maw-

‘R-Right. Yeah. Biting. You could say, biting is, appealing. But- I believe most, adults find some level of biting attractive’ he argued back.

‘Sure… Sure, I’d agree with that’ you murmured, your voice involuntarily slipping. You’d seen his slip, his flash of a fang, and now you wanted more. ‘I’d agree with that… But, some people are into, more, than just biting.’

Miguel tried so hard to not be obvious as his dark, glowering eyes moved down towards your body. The way you were sitting, the way you coyly arched your head to stare at the distant floor so you didn’t make eye contact

Were you… flirting? Was HE flirting?

‘Do they?’ Miguel murmured, slowly unbaling his fists. You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head, like a mouse finally sensing a cat in the shadows, and the fear was exactly what you’d hoped it would be.

This was delicious. This was ecstasy.

‘Y-Yeah’ you replied softly, letting your voice deliberately drop. You heard his curious little grunt in response.

‘And what do you mean by that, exactly?’ he replied, his voice slow and sharp. You heard his accent slip out a little, as if he was holding something back. You swallowed hard.

‘Some people… Might be, interested, in your traits’ you replied.

‘How so?’

His persistent, sharp questions made your gut do flips every single time. He could almost smell your primal response, but he wanted more.

‘Some people… Might enjoy the idea of being bitten, like you said, just as much as you enjoy doing it.’

‘I never said I enjoy it.’

Your fists tightened on the edge of the floating office, as you forced your next statement out.

‘No… No, but, I also never asked’ you murmured.

The two of you went silent then, with nothing to fill the void but the slow dripping of water somewhere in the enormous cavern of his office.

‘… Do you enjoy biting?’ you asked after a minute or so. Miguel narrowed his eyes, but you caught him slowly licking his upper lip.

‘… Yes.’

You hid the instinctive shudder that went up your spine at that curt response, and instead asked another question. Keep going. Keep going. You’re so close.

‘Do you, like the idea of drinking blood?’

Miguel shivered as he came to stand behind you, his arms folded over his chest. He stared down at your head, breathing in that sweet scent. It took all his inner strength to now bend down and huff your nape.

‘Yes’ he replied softly. ‘I do.’

‘Do you have, preferences, for blood? Does some taste better than others?’

He managed to chuckle at that.

‘Yes. I’d say so.’

‘… Do you think I’d taste good?’

That question hung in the air like a physical weight, hot and heavy and thick. Miguel felt his muscles tense. He was like a cat in the long grass, instinctively crouching as it smelled the potential of prey.

Slowly he turned and glanced down at you, your body still perfectly perched on the rim of his floating office. You met his gaze without fear. You looked coy, perhaps, but… not afraid. You weren’t joking either.

He’d felt his own prey drive before, but he’d never seen his prey sitting, staring, meeting him with equally hungry eyes.

You watched Miguel lick his lower lip, flashing just an inch of fang. His keen senses picked up the way your body shivered at the sight. ‘…Oh, yes’ he whispered. ‘I think you would. I’d- need to smell you first though.’

Stop. Stop, what are you doing?! His brain screamed at him to withdraw, to cough and dismiss what he’d said as a bad joke, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when you shivered like that.

‘… You wanna smell?’ you murmured back, idly tilting your neck. He saw the soft gleam of your bare skin and had to swallow down his increased saliva.

‘… This is, incredibly unprofessional’ he whispered back. God, his voice was so deep. He sounded tortured.

‘I’m aware’ you replied in the same soft, tender voice. You were speaking like someone talking down an angry animal. ‘We can always stop, if you want. But the offer is on the table.’

Miguel was still only for a moment. As his resolve crumbled, he dropped to his knees beside you, his hand outstretched and his head tilted as he silently requested your cooperation. You obliged.

You bent your neck and tilted it to the side, giving him access to the fine hairs on your nape. You couldn’t help your breath hitching as you sensed his size at your back. Those glowing red eyes, the way he had to look down at you even on his knees.

He kept his eyes fixed on your own for as long as he could while leaning in, letting you see his intent right up until the warmth of his breath hit your neck. You shuddered, and in response, he purred.

You felt the tip of his nose hit your nape, and with a soft growl, he breathed in.

And then he moaned.

You shivered openly at the sound. It was deep, guttural, fully instinctual, and it only got worse when he saw your body respond. You felt his nose sliding up your neck and into your hair as his lips found your skin; they were full and warm, slightly rough on your soft flesh.

He paused there, huffing your hair, his eyes open just a slither to see how you responded. When you remained still, your lips parted and your own moan just barely tittering on your lips, he moved again.

He licked you. His large, flat tongue just barely flicked at your nape, tasting your flavor profile through the sweat beading on your skin, and he growled with approval.

‘Mm… Qué rico’ he whispered against your ear. ‘Yeah. You’d taste good. Real good… So, rich. I bet your blood is, thick.’

In that moment he lost any resolve he’d been trying to maintain, and he indulged. He whispered those filthy forbidden words against your skin between breathy kisses, and you took it all.

‘Mm… So thick… I bet if I pierced here, I wouldn’t even need to suck. Hng… y-yeah. Yeah, it’d just, slide down my throat, so warm, so sweet’ he moaned.

‘Y-You just, wanna bite my neck?’ you whimpered. ‘Nothing else?’

‘Oh I’d bite everything’ he groaned. ‘Every little bit… But the neck, that’s my favorite. I want to feel your pulse, I want to feel you squirming. Mm…’

‘Y-You want me to squirm?’

‘Maybe just a little’ he cooed, almost crooning a little as he kissed your jaw. ‘But I want you to savor it. I want you soft, and still, and moaning. God, I want to feel that moan in your throat when I bite it. I want to taste it…’

‘Would you, rip it all out? Get too, frisky with it?’ you moaned back, your voice shaking with excitement.

‘Oh, I’d love to’ he hissed, another low groan echoing in his thick throat. ‘I’d tear into you like butter. It’d be too easy… Too easy… Just one, good bite, and you’d be nothing but flesh in my mouth. I’d have to drink you fast You’d be all mine, all mine.’

You let out a soft whimper and tried to turn, trying to face him, to see him.

‘Yes, please—’

You jolted to a stop as he grasped your nape, refusing to let you turn. He couldn’t allow it, at least, not now. He couldn’t let you see that he was rock hard, his erect cock straining almost painfully against his suit where he was trying to suppress it.

The smell, the softness, the taste… he couldn’t help it. He told himself he just couldn’t help it. Not when you moaned like that.

‘Shh…’

He held you steady, gripping your skin like a cat holding a kitten, and slowly he began to scent you again. He peppered kisses up and down your neck.

‘Mm… Shh, that’s it. That’s what you wanted, right, you little brat?’ he purred. ‘You just wanted to rile me up to get some—’

‘Would you… Would you eat me all at once?’ you blurted.

Miguel paused only briefly to glance at you, realizing that you wanted to keep going. You wanted to go further, not just with the physical play, but with the talk of eating. He felt almost a flicker of pride. He thought you’d drop his strange fetish the moment you got a little taste of his strength, his body, as everyone else did, but you… no. You really were different.

‘Oh, no, mi tesoro’ he whispered right into your ear. ‘No, no. I could. But that’d be a waste. You’re far too precious.’

You whined as he began sliding his tongue around the ridge beneath your ear, sliding up and then down to your neck, peppering kisses as he went. ‘I’d… I’d keep you going for as long as I could. My own little personal blood bank. I’d keep you in my private quarters, I think, and I’d chain you up above my bed, to keep the blood flowing, and… Oh, I’d indulge. I’d indulge in you. I’d drink from you until you were right on the verge of passing out, and then I’d let you recover, and then I’d do it again. Like you’re my cow, my little broodmare, my delicious little pet.’

At his response, you could hold back no longer. With no regard for professionalism you slid your hand down to your painfully swollen clit, still covered by your pants, and you circled it with one finger.

Miguel’s eyes widened so hard that the red glow began to reflect on your bare shoulder, drawing your gaze back to him. You locked eyes.

Miguel didn’t dare blink. He stared at your face, then your hand, then your barely covered crotch, then your eyes again. Your eyes moved from his face to his crotch, to the thick mass twitching beneath his suit. A low, barely discernible breath escaped his parted lips.

‘…’

He raised his hand, and in front of your eyes, he grasped his own shaft, giving it a small, teasing stroke.

‘Slowly’ he whispered in that dark, husky voice. ‘Slowly… Eat you, slowly.’

‘Skin, and bone, and blood’ you whined back.

He groaned, hard, and you saw his cock fully twitch in his hand. With no resolve left he pressed to phase away his suit at the groin, allowing his hefty cock to fall free.

‘Skin and bone and blood and all.’

He hissed those words back as he fisted his own shaft in front of you. It was thick and curved, notably veiny, and you could see he was already profusely leaking. Either he was an extremely virile man or a pent-up one, and both thoughts excited you.

With a heavy breath you continued gently playing with yourself, letting him watch as his hard, calloused hand worked his girth back and forth.

‘Y-You could eat little pieces of me too’ you whimpered. ‘A finger, o-or my foot—’

‘Mm, foot. That’d be so greedy’ he moaned. His cock throbbed in your delicate grip. ‘Mm… I’d eat little pieces until you couldn’t escape me…’

‘W-Why would I ever want to escape?’

‘Oh, right. Right.’ Miguel purred as he spoke, suddenly fixing you with a slightly cocky, eerie smirk, flashing his fangs your way. He leaned in and watched as you melted.

‘You want this, right? You want that perfect, pretty body in my maw.’

You shuddered and moaned right against his face. As he continued to pant, as his lips parted to flash those thick, pearly canines, you leaned in and coyly let your tongue slip out. He released a low, curious growl in response, as if unsure of what you wanted.

He leaned closer, always moving slowly, and gently nipped your tongue with his fangs. A single, pearly drop of blood formed, causing him to groan. You moaned in response, but you weren’t satisfied with just that.

Instead, you leaned in closer too, and gently licked his fang. You ran your tongue along the smooth surface before coiling around to the curved underside of the tooth, licking at his slightly swollen venom glands until a little bit leaked out.

His eyes were wide as he felt you massaging him, milking him like a snake, taking those little drops and swallowing them down your gullet

It wasn’t enough to paralyze you, just enough to make you feel a little woozy and lightheaded. It tingled a little in your toes. It felt warm. You drank more.

‘Mmm…’

Miguel watched for as long as he could before he was forced to break. Just the sight of you swallowing his venom, so soft and submissive, was almost enough to make him bust right then and there. He had to release his shaft to avoid stimulating himself too far.

‘Mm… mm…’

With a soft shudder his eyes closed, and he widened his jaw to let you in deeper. You obliged.

You continued like this, panting into each other’s mouths, your eyes both reflecting the same shared fantasy: one where you weren’t co-workers, one where you weren’t bound by appearances, where he could grab you by the nape and claw you body back up to his apartment where he’d fuck and lick and bite until you were barely coherent.

When you withdrew it was only because you were too close to orgasming, and you refused to stop the fun this quickly. Who knew when you’d get the chance again? So instead, you kept indulging.

‘W-What would be your favorite part to eat?’

Miguel almost purred at the thought, his tongue now eagerly tasting the saliva you’d left on his fang.

‘Mm… Your thighs’ he murmured dreamily. ‘Oh, I bet they’re delicious. So, soft, so… full. So rich. I couldn’t even save them for last. I’d eat them first…’

Without giving you a chance to reply he kissed you. You squeaked at first but quickly conceded, letting his rough, heavy lips crash into your own.

‘Taste so- fucking good, ah, mierda, muy rico’ he hissed between kisses, ‘me encanta, mm… tan suave.’

He gave you a few more hard, passionate kisses before grabbing your jaw and yanking it open, holding your lips open so his tongue could slip in. He was fisting his cock furiously now, with his tongue tasting every inch of your mouth and his claws digging into your skin. You just lay back and took it, feeling your climax growing closer and closer with every touch.

‘Mmm! Mm, so f-fucking good.’

When Miguel finally pulled back he was panting, and his lip was red. He’d bitten your lip so hard it’d started to bleed, and now he was almost angrily licking it up.

‘Mmm, yeah…’

His full tongue fell out and lapped at your neck, leaving a long, wet trail of saliva and venom across the skin.

‘Estás riquísimo, mm… te quiero.’

You didn’t even need to speak. It was like you both knew what the other wanted. Without words you swapped hands, with your fingers grasping his bare cock while his slid down your work pants and found your clit.

You both fell down onto the floor of his office and began to stroke the other, frantically pumping and circling as you both swelled and throbbed in near unison.

‘That’s it, that’s it. J-Just, think about my teeth under your skin’ Miguel groaned, his needy lips still sucking on your neck. You struggled not to scream. His fingers were huge, calloused and warm, and they felt like heaven as they slid between your lips and carefully massaged your swollen clit.

‘I’d pierce fast, so it didn’t hurt—’

‘NO, no, make it hurt’ you pleaded, your hips bucking up against his finger. His smirk widened.

‘Oh, you want it to hurt, huh? Putita/o? Me gusta el dolor…’

‘Y-Yes, fuck yeah, I bet you do—M-Make it hurt, god, make it hurt. Make it slow. Make me plead for it!’

‘Y-Yeah, yeah, beg for me’ he moaned, his cock twitching in your hand. You could feel his fangs rolling your skin as he licked at it, almost as if edging the possibility of sinking right in. ‘Mm, beg for it. I want you to beg me to eat you.’

‘Beg… Y-Yeah… P-Please, please, I want you to bite me’ you pleaded. ‘I-I want it, please—’

‘Oh, I’ll bite you’ he hissed, giving a teasing little nip to your neck. ‘I’ll bite you, and I’ll swallow, and I’ll do whatever I want with you. Every bit of flesh on your body is mine, your bones are mine, and I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with you.’

Your sweet, breathy moan gave him such a rush. Yes, yes, you wanted it. You wanted HIM.

‘You like that, eh? Puta/o? You want that?’ he hissed.

‘Y-Yeah… Yeah, yeah, all yours’ you panted back. ‘All yours…’

‘All mine. All mine. I’ll bite you, and I’ll taste you, but only ever when I’m inside you. I want you to feel me pumping you, feeling you, with my teeth in your neck. I want you to feel them both. I want you to know I’m in your body in every conceivable way. I’ll swallow you down and fill you with my love, mi tesoro, I’ll love you from your flesh to your blood to the marrow in your bones, I’ll worship every inch of your body, and I’ll make it all mine.’

He started to speed up as the heat of his own fantasy took over. Soon he was groaning into your ear, almost crying every sweet word as he massaged your clit. He was pumping his hips now, practically rutting into your hand.

‘I’ll fuck you while I drink from you’ he moaned, his voice now echoing through his office. ‘Y-Yeah. Little whore. Puta/o. I’ll love you, and I’ll use you. I’ll fuck you so hard, until you can barely walk, I’ll unload in this pretty little cunt until you can’t move, you’ll take every last drop, and I’ll sink into your neck when I cum and let your blood fill my mouth— This is mine¸ you’re all MINE—’

With a final shaky groan Miguel shuddered and nearly spasmed, and you realized he was about to finish. You leaned up and caught his tongue with your own, making eye contact as you open-mouth kissed right at the moment of climax

You both orgasmed nearly simultaneously, both filled with the same mental image of Miguel devouring your neck drop by drop.

Miguel’s cock strained and erupted, squirted thick rope after thick rope all over your lap and hand, a cascade of warm, rich cum so sticky it barely dripped. You, in turn, spasmed and throbbed against his two fingers, letting him hear your pleasure on his own tongue as those sweet, mewling whimpers filled his mouth. He ate them up.

You both throbbed and shuddered together before slowly collapsing into a messy, weak pile, with your clothes soiled and your skin damp with sweat. You withdrew from the kiss and held on to the taste of him in your mouth, and Miguel savored that taste like it was his last meal.

He even licked your spit from where it dangled between your lips, taking it right into his mouth. You whined at the sight.

‘Mm… M-Mmm’ he moaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut. ‘Dios mio… eso se sintió increíble.’

He slowly removed his hand from your pants and dreamily raised it to his lips, where he forced you to watch as he licked his fingers clean. You shivered at the sight of the hunger in his eyes, the way he treated your slick, viscous fluid like a sampling platter.

He treated you like you were delicious, like you were a privilege.

And then you opened his eyes and he looked down at you.

His eyes were all red now. No white, barely any black at all, just red. Red, hungry, predatory eyes, sensing only your pulse beating in your neck and your hot, heavy breath. He let out a guttural purr in the back of his throat.

You were exhausted, sweaty, broken. You couldn’t flee.

He lowered himself to your neck, and you lay back to oblige him.

Eat. Eat. Eat. Eat.

He needed it. He NEEDED it. He was starving, ravenous. He pinned your chest with one clawed hand and moved his lips to your neck.

Eat. Eat. Take. Eat. Take. Eat.

He licked your jugular, feeling your pulse rapidly increasing. He could smell your sweat, he could smell your excitement. Your hand weakly stroked his chest, bidding him to continue.

He opened his maw.

Eat. Take. Fuck. Eat. Take. Fuck. Eat!!

He snapped his jaw open, his fangs extending. He sank them into just the first layer of skin on your neck, and then—

‘Hey, Miguel!’

Both you and Miguel froze on the precipice of pleasure, with his fangs just barely piercing the skin. You knew that voice well enough, and Miguel knew it even better. That was Peter B.

Miguel scowled, his face contorting into a series of angry lines as his eyes burned. He was alight with crimson fire, almost trembling with rage. For a moment he closed his eyes and leaned in closer, as if willing to test Peter’s resolve and see whether he’d just assume Miguel was busy and leave, but unfortunately, his hope was short-lived.

‘Miguel?!’

‘WHAT?!’

Miguel withdrew and snapped in less than a second, causing you to flinch. You could have sworn you heard Peter flinch too, even all the way down there at the base of the office.

‘We got an emergency call, one of the new guys needs help with an anomy.’

‘No chingues… No me estes jodiendo’ Miguel spat under his breath, before finally pulling away from your neck with extreme reluctance. He had to wipe the growing spittle from his lip where he’d been salivating, smearing green venom across his jaw. You just lay where you were, too overwhelmed to move and too worried you might set him off again.

‘I have to go’ he grunted as he rose to his feet. You watched him phase his full suit back on, covering his bare cock again, which reminded you to glance down at your own utterly soiled clothes.

‘R-Right…’ you murmured back. ‘I, um… Look, I—’

Your attempt to speak was cut short as Miguel bent down and roughly grasped your collar, drawing you up to his face. You felt his lips brush your ear, and into it, he hissed.

‘You will be here, waiting, when I get back. Do you understand me?’ he breathed, almost spitting with intensity. A low, hedonistic groan escaped your lips, one you barely managed to stifle.

‘Mm…. M-Mmhm, mmhm, I understand’ you whispered back.

He gave a single, approving grunt before dropping down from his desk into the open air, his terrifying body vanishing into the dark and the mist.

You stayed where you were, panting and trying to figure out how you could clean the cum from his clothes before he returned.

Though… Then again, from the way he was talking, he probably didn’t want you clean. You felt your face growing warm at the thought.

No. He probably wanted to add more.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #smut #miguel o'hara smut #vampire smut #18+ only #miguel smut #atsv miguel

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deliciousangelfestival · 20 hours

Text

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 4

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

Chap 1, Chap 2 , Chap 3 , Chap 4 ,-

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky was speechless after you kissed his hand, even though it was through the leather gloves.

You let go of his hand. "Was that too much? Sorry, I’m just overwhelmed by the offer you gave."

“I take that as a yes?” Bucky asked, still processing.

“Well yeah, didn’t I seal it by kissing your hand? I thought it was clear.” You smiled, a hint of playfulness in your eyes.

Bucky chuckled softly. "That's a new way to accept an offer, but joke aside, I’m grateful you accepted."

You lowered your guard, leaning back slightly. "So what happens next? I have to say, I won’t do anything that makes me a homewrecker."

“Oh gosh, nothing like that,” Bucky reassured you, his tone earnest.

“That’s a relief.” You let out a breath, feeling more at ease.

Suddenly, Bucky's phone rang. He picked it up and saw the caller ID: "Victoria." He bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to talk to her at this moment. However, he didn't want to ignore the call either, as his fiancée would quickly learn that he had no feelings for her.

He excused himself to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hello, my fiancé. I apologize for bothering you, but I heard something that doesn't sit quite right with me. I heard that you are with my older sister?" Victoria asked, her voice calm and cheerful, though her perfectly manicured fingers were crumpling a few papers nervously on the other end.

Bucky felt like he had just been caught cheating. "I am. I have something to discuss with her because of what happened last night."

"Oh, I see. Alright, I won’t bother you. See you soon." Victoria ended the call, smirking as she looked at her phone. She knew Bucky's reputation—quiet and calm but ruthless if disrespected. She remembered how you embarrassed him last night and thought perhaps he was giving you a warning.

Victoria felt a tickle of satisfaction, believing Bucky understood her without her needing to lift a finger. She felt lucky to have him as her fiancé.

Bucky, not entirely sure what had just transpired, felt relieved that Victoria didn't seem suspicious and quickly ended the call.

He returned to you and saw you chatting with the waitress and his secretary. In seconds, you had already become close to new people.

Unlike you, Bucky’s circle of friends all had to undergo background checks before he could trust them.

"Let’s talk in the car. I’ll drop you off," Bucky suggested.

"Sure," you agreed, thinking this would save you transportation money.

Inside the luxurious car, you felt like you were being enveloped by the comfortable seat. Even if you worked for 20 years on your teacher’s salary, you wouldn’t be able to afford this car.

Bucky wore his reading glasses and read a document. He spoke to you without lifting his head. "Tomorrow, after your school is over, I’ll pick you up, and we'll meet my psychiatrist."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

Bucky explained, "He knows my condition, and I hope bringing you to meet him will help us find a solution." His voice sounded serious, a little desperate.

"Have you had this disorder since you were little?" you asked.

He flinched, his hand stopping mid-motion as he was about to flip the paper. "It started when I was 12 years old," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

His expression turned grieving. You knew this was the moment to stop asking questions; after all, you’d just met him for the second time. There’s a limit to how personal you can get with someone you barely know.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

The car stopped in front of a small house. It looked old but cozy, especially the garden with its many flowers. Bucky wondered if it was you who took care of all the roses.

You rolled your eyes, "It was my grandma who has the green thumb."

Bucky glanced at the flowers. "Pretty. I’m grateful for your cooperation, but I hope none of this gets leaked to outsiders."

So he was giving you a warning. You made a gesture of zipping your lips. "My lips are sealed." Then you closed the car door and headed to your house.

After he saw you enter the house, he told his driver to start the car.

You watched the car drive away from behind the curtain.

"Is that your boyfriend, my Ophelia?" The cheerful voice of an older woman startled you. You jumped, turning to see your grandma, Cassandra, standing beside you.

She smiled at you, happiness evident in her eyes, but you couldn't share her joy. To your grandmother, you were her daughter, Ophelia, your mother, who had passed away years ago.

Life had been cruel to her, taking away her only daughter, her son-in-law ignored her, and her business at the same time, which took a significant toll on her. The final blow was dementia.

She didn’t remember you at all. At 70 years old, her mind had regressed to when she was 40. Because of the striking resemblance between you and your mother, she thought you were Ophelia.

You sighed and put on a smile for her. "No, he's just a friend."

Cassandra giggled. "Really? Your father will be jealous when he hears this. Uhuk... uhuk..." She started coughing. You bring her to sit on her chair.

Your heart clenched each time you heard your grandma cough. It was getting worse.

She needed surgery, but you didn't have the money.

Having a rich father like Jonathan was useless because you didn't have access to your money. The reason was clear: Genevieve and Victoria.

She really hated you and wanted you to starve to death.

You quickly put a blanket on Cassandra lap and turned on the air humidifier to help ease her cough.

As you added the eucalyptus and lemongrass essential oil into the humidifier, your eyes caught the family photo on the wall. It was a picture of your family—your dad, your mom, and your grandparents—standing in front of your childhood home. Everyone was gathered to celebrate your birthday. But now, it was all just a memory.

You clenched your fist, feeling a surge of determination. Soon, you would get what was supposed to be yours.

💋💋💋💋

The next day after school, you went with Bucky to see the psychiatrist. But before that, the school was in an uproar because of the clothes you were wearing. You, who always dressed like a vampire hunter in jeans, combat boots, a grey shirt, and a black jacket, were now wearing a casual outfit with a vintage aesthetic.

You wore a cream-colored blouse tucked into a high-waisted plaid skirt paired with brown loafers and a light brown blazer with elbow patches. Your hair was styled in soft waves, and you carried a small leather satchel. The change in your appearance left everyone talking.

Jimmy couldn’t believe you were the same teacher who always yelled at him. “Who are you?”

You replied with a smirk, “Your worst nightmare.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Despite your elegant outfit, you still commanded authority.

Bucky also noticed the change in your appearance. “You look different.”

You explained, “I don’t want your psychiatrist to think that I could be a bad influence on you.”

“Fair point,” he nodded in agreement.

After a while, both of you arrived at the destination, a fancy clinic. The receptionist, already accustomed to Bucky's appointments, greeted him warmly. “He’s waiting for you.”

Bucky led you to the room, which was bright and comfortable, conducive to a relaxed atmosphere. The walls were painted in calming colors and adorned with abstract art, and the furniture was modern yet inviting.

There was already someone sitting in the chair, holding a pen and a writing board. It was Dr. Javier, who had known Bucky for a long time.

Javier waited until both Bucky and you were seated. "You told me that you had a breakthrough. Is it her?" he inquired.

Bucky nodded, taking off his leather gloves and putting on a pulse oximeter on his finger. He then reached for your hand, and you placed yours in his.

Javier widened his eyes and adjusted his glasses. Bucky showed no signs of panic attacks, and his pulse appeared normal. "Wow. Incredible. How long has this been happening?" Javier asked.

Bucky replied, "Three days."

"After you touched her, you mentioned trying to shake somebody else's hand. Did the panic attacks suddenly reappear then?" Javier inquired further.

Bucky confirmed, "Yes."

Javier wondered what made you so special. Suddenly, he moved closer to you without warning.

You exclaimed, "What the-?"

“Interesting,” Javier nodded. “I can think of one reason: your body fragrance.”

You were taken aback. Did you really smell bad? You started sniffing your clothes. They were still new; you had only worn them three times, and they had been dry cleaned.

Then you remembered, “I am surrounded by buckets of sweat and cigarettes.”

Being around students who smoked and sweated a lot due to their frequent sports activities made you open all the classroom windows to get rid of the smell.

Bucky found it difficult to accept that his disorder could be triggered by your body odor.

Javier felt as though four eyes were judging him. He cleared his throat. “Ahem. Your case is one of a kind, Bucky. Perhaps her scent doesn’t trigger your trauma—” He didn’t continue when he felt someone glaring at him.

Trauma? Bucky’s trauma? You wondered what Javier meant.

Bucky crossed his arms and changed the subject. “So the solution to my disorder is the smell of a locker room?”

Javier raised both arms, trying to calm down his patient's anger. “I’m not saying it’s the solution, but it could be.”

Bucky sighed heavily. What kind of nonsense was this? But the way he met you was also out of the blue. His life is full of surprises now.

Author Note: Poor Cassandra. 🥺 Also the reader is a non-smoker.

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@wh0reforbucknasty

@bada-lee-ily

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suuooe · 13 hours

Text

-- Touch deprived boys

✧ or: touch- or not so touch deprived wind breaker boys ✧ featuring: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Umemiya Hajime, Hiragi Toma & Kaji Ren x gn!reader [separate] ✧ content: established relationship & fluff ✧ a/n: i dropped one suo fic and got busy the same week and fell ill the next week lmfao. hiragi may be a bit ooc - ya know when you know how the characters act and how they are in theory, but can't articulate that in your works? yeah. yeah. this is not proofread we post this without beta-reading like real men.

Sakura doesn't register the feeling at first. To be more precise, he doesn't know what the feeling is at all when it first appears.

I imagine Sakura having a significant other that's the polar opposite to him when it comes to physical touch - as in they would 100% at any given moment when they're together hold any part of Sakura that they come in contact with. (This boy cannot for the life of him shake off anyone he deems close away, grab his hand and lead him on and he will 100% complain the entire way, but he'll never shake off your hand)

Which means that ever since he did start to date you, he wouldn't even know the meaning of what touch deprivation even is - because not a day goes by when you're not touching him some part of him.

So when a day actually comes when you're not holding onto him, he feels genuinely put off. Something is wrong, but he can't put his finger on it. And oh boy does that clearly show on his face. Sakura is after all - an open book when it comes to his feelings.

He's moody, he doesn't snap and yell like usual - but he only mutters answers back whenever someone asks him something. Even to you - if anything, you would think he's mad at you. He's fidgeting with his hands, tugging at his sleeves and averting his gaze from you whenever you ask if he's okay.

He's an open book yeah, but he won't say a damn thing - pride and all.

It'll most likely be in a scenario where you're surrounded by more people than usual that you hold back a bit on showing affection. But still, you're mostly by his side, talking to him, handing him drinks and heck your shoulders brush against each other every time you laugh at something his classmate had said - you're that close to him.

And yet it feels wrong.

"Oh, Haruka your drink is empty. Want me to go grab another one?" you're not even waiting for an answer before you lean away from the wall behind you to head towards the refreshments table on the other side of the rooftop.

It's only when your presence once again leaves his side that Sakura springs into action, reaching out to barely grasp the fabric of your shirt to hold you slightly back. Puzzled, you turn around with a confused smile, only to be met with an equally confused, but frantic stare from your lover. "Everything okay, Haruka?" you ask again, ignoring the fact that Haruka's gaze is looking all over the place but at your own face.

"Y-yeah, why wouldn't it be?" although he says that, his hand is still grasping onto your shirt. A few seconds go by in silence before you feel a slight tug against them - and suddenly every dot in your confused brain starts to connect on his bizarre behaviour today.

Your eyes soften, and Sakura can hear your quiet chuckle when you turn around to face him, forcing his fingers to let go. But before he can ask what you're laughing about, he can feel himself being pulled into a hug, and he can feel your smile against his shoulders as you pat his back comfortably. "You're so cute, Haruka." he can hear you say through your quiet giggles.

You can hear a quiet "Shut up…" from him, but you can feel the way his posture drastically softens under your hug. But before your duo-coloured lover could wrap his arms around your waist, you hear a low whistle coming from behind you. "Naaw, Sakura-kun was missing [Name]'s touch for the day."

And in an instant you're yanked (gently) away by an arms length with Sakura yelling profanities at a laughing Suo. Well at least he's back to normal.

Suo's never "deprived" per say of your touch - because he's the one initiating it 90% of the time.

He's already physically affectionate. He's usually seen having an arm around your waist when you're peering at something, holding your hand when the two of you go for a walk or leaning over you when you're standing still to rest his chin on top of your head (if you're shorter, if not he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck).

And while you don't mind (in fact often times you lean most of your weight on him if he's standing behind you once you feel his presence) Suo does want you to initiate contact once in a while.

But alas those feelings is rarely shown on his face, always sporting a neutral smile to any situation he's put in - no one can tell that he's a bit more troubled than usual.

But what kind of lover would you be, if you weren't able to spot these miniscule changes in Suo? When he now only briefly holds onto your waist to silently announce his presence beside you before retracting his arm back and when he waits for your fingers to graze against his own before he tangles them together?

You do notice, and Suo also knows you've noticed the slight difference in your otherwise normal habits. How you peer up at him a bit longer than usual when he decides to sit next to you in the library instead of behind you like he usually does so you can rest against him. But he only gives you a wide smile in return to your confused glance.

"You know-" you say with a start, seating yourself down on Suo's lap the moment he seats himself down properly on the tatami floor of his room, your lover only wrapping an arm around your back to make sure you don't topple over. "This is a very elaborate way to tell me you want me to initiate physical contact more often."

"Hmm? Whatever do you mean?" he feigns ignorance, merely tilting his head slightly to the side when you twirl your fingers around the tassels of his left earring whilst resting your head against his shoulder. "Why can't you just ask like any other person for a hug or something?" you question.

"That wouldn't be fun. I wanted to see if you loved the physical touch as much as me, after all." he says, and you raise your eyebrow in confusion, "Me not reciprocating your touches was not an answer?" you inquire, raising your head to stare at him, Suo only giving you a smile that seems a bit too mischievous back while shaking his head.

"Initiating and reciprocating are two different things, dear. Initiating takes a lot more courage after all." you only hum in return, resting your head back on his shoulder before taking a hold of his hand to toy with his fingers, bending the appendages while admiring how smooth his skin was - even with all the fighting he does. "I like it when you initiate contact first though…" you murmur in the end. Suo, who had initially thought you had put the matter of his impromptu idea to the side hums in surprise at your quiet confession.

"Why?"

You shrug, deciding to intertwine your fingers together before resting them on your own lap, smiling softly at how Suo's thumb brush against the skin of your hand. "I don't know either. I just know that it's you whenever someone takes a hold of my hand, you do have the habit of grazing your fingers against mine before holding them after all. It's almost like your way of saying hello before we even make eye contact." you tell, "You always reach out for my hand first after all."

You're not staring at him, still busy looking at your clasped hands - but he still smiles down at your form, turning his head to press his lips on top of your head. "Well with such a sweet reason, who am I to not initiate it more then, hmm?"

He makes it known that he wants your touch before you can even tell he's deprived.

Which means he's never deprived, because when Umemiya feels that he needs a hug, he's making a beeline towards you to engulf you in his arms.

Which means there are two outcomes to this. If you're within his sights and he sees you as soon as he wants a hug, everything is A-OK! Umemiya gets his well needed hug to tackle the next set of duties and tasks he has set for himself for the next 3 hours.

If you're not in his arms within the next 10 minutes of him wanting a hug, he's going to talk to his plants like you've gone off to war and won't come back before the next year. Talking about how much he misses your presence, your favourite food, what kind of seed you would probably prefer, how he's found a new book that you love. At this point feel sorry for the person that has to sit through those 10 minutes of constant love declarations. (Hiragi)

And yes, Hiragi has you on speed dial because of this. It does not matter that you've recently been up on the rooftop spending time with him, it does not matter if you've just gone downtown to get some drinks - Hiragi does not get paid enough for this and he will personally escort you back to Bofurin's leader to make him shut up.

You better clear your schedule for the next hour because Umemiya will have you in his arms before making sure you're well fed and spend time with you. He doesn't necessarily have to constantly touch you then - if he can see you within his vision he's already beaming brighter than the sun in the sky.

"Hajime, you're about to squeeze my entire air supply out." you manage to wheeze out while laughing, Umemiya merely burying his face further into your hair while swinging you back and forth in the air.

"You could've told me that you were going to go shop for groceries for Kotoha! I would've helped." he exclaimed whilst putting your down on the ground again, though his arms were still snugly wrapped around your waist and still keeping you pressed against his front. Your own arms around his back when you noticed that he wouldn't budge from this position anytime soon.

"Last time you helped out, you crushed 2 dozens eggs remember? The townsfolk love you too much too, we would've needed more hands if you came along because of the amount of freebies they would give you. Besides she just wanted a few things and I was already out when she asked where I was, so it wasn't too much trouble to make another round through the town." you replied, stepping side to side while pushing yourself against Umemiya, a silent request for him to move backwards towards the wooden canopy so you both could sit down.

Once seated, you find yourself placed on top of Umemiya's lap with his arms still snugly wrapped around your waist, securing your body close to his own when you lean backwards to properly look at him while talking. At this point Umemiya has gone off tangent, eyes brimming with excitement over what had happened on the day you had mentioned the crushed eggs, only stopping his tangent when you bring a handkerchief up to his face to wipe away the dirt.

"… How long have you been in that position?" an exasperated gruff voice questions, and both you and Umemiya turn over to the entrance of the rooftop to see Hiragi leaning against the door.

"Hiragi! You want some water? Maybe some onigiri? Oh right, [Name] had also picked up some snacks!"

"It's been 15 minutes."

"Good grief, Umemiya, let [Name] go aleady, they're not your personal teddy bear."

Hiragi in general is not a physically affectionate person. He doesn't mind it, softens quite a bit when you grasp his hand whenever you join his group when they patrol the town and relaxes his posture while sinking further down the slope of the couch so that you can rest your head on his shoulder - even if the posture itself causes him a bit of discomfort after.

He's quite content just having you walk by his side - as long as he can see you from his peripheral vision or heck, just hear your voice speak from beside him or behind him, he's content.

He does however have his moments. Although it's incredibly hard to spot because Hiragi himself doesn't mind going days without getting a kiss even.

And even when you do initiate the first touch, he handles you like a porcelain doll - almost afraid you will break. You can hug him as tight as you can, he'll laugh and say he's not going to disappear anytime soon, but the hug you receive back is so gentle and full of love it almost brings you to tears alone.

Hiragi is aware of his position within Bofurin, and the fact that his name carries a lot of weight and is known beyond the town - as such he initiates the most contact when you're alone. And even that is a rare occurrence being that you're both busy most of the time.

As such, even though it's rare - Hiragi will show subtle signs that he wants to cradle you within his arms or hold your hand. A gentler gaze when he addresses you - a more carefree grin when you open your arms wide waiting for him to come to you, but even you can see the slight hesitation.

All in all, Hiragi is quite content and rarely gets touch deprived, but no one is immune to their lover asking for a quick hug, even when you yourself isn't much of a physically affectionate person.

"Can I have a hug? Please?" Hiragi blinks slowly in confusion, takes a look behind him before directing his attention to you. "… Did you have to ask me in a sketchy alleyway of all things?" he finally asks, which makes you laugh, hands still outstretched waiting for Hiragi to take the 2 steps to reach you.

"And here I thought I was going to get a lecture from dragging you away from patrolling." you say, now wriggling your fingers to emphasise your current need for a hug from your boyfriend. "Think of it like an energy boost for the day! I know you've been craving a hug from yours truly for a long time after all, it's been a while since your last recharge!" you add on, Hiragi quirking an eyebrow with a smile.

"You're keeping track of them now?" he scoffs, taking the two steps you desperately wanted him to take, reaching out his own hands to intertwine them with your own before holding onto your wrists to rest your arms on his shoulders. "Hehe, next time I should keep track on how many Gas-kun 10 you take." you can see the roll of his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist while you lock your own arms around his neck, rubbing your face into his neck to breathe in the faint hint of cologne he dons each day.

The arms wrapped around your waist tightens a bit more than usual, and you can feel the stiffness of Hiragi's form loosen "You're on your lunch break?" he asks softly, to which you nod against his neck, "Mhm, have to go back within 10 minutes if I don't want my teacher to give me an earful again." he hums, giving you one last squeeze before stepping back.

He only pinches your puffed out cheeks, "Don't give me that look, I'll come pick you up after school okay? I think Umemiya misses talking to you as well." Upon hearing that, your eyes brighten immediately before skipping past him out of the alleyway, "Promise to not be late?"

"When have I ever been?"

Another boy who does not know how to function when he's touch deprived! But unlike Sakura, he does know when he is indeed needing for some more cuddles than normal.

But he's awkward, he doesn't know how to actually go on about asking for hugs. Yes in his mind it's logical to just straight up ask you for a hug, or if you can just sit in front of him so he can lean his forehead on the nape of your neck and just breathe in your fragrance. Very easy to do!

Easier said than done. Especially when he's the type to not do anything before you give him permission - yes he's still scared of hurting you even though when he's around you, he's fully in control of his emotions and reactions. But there's always a lingering feeling, you know?

Still jumps in surprise at times when you graze your fingers against any exposed part of his skin, but once he sees it's you - best believe he's holding onto you till someone calls him out.

He's more prone to initiate more contact when you're alone, being that in public he's prone to get teased (whether that's voluntarily by his classmates or involuntarily by Umemiya's comments on how soft he's gotten)

So as a compromise to his awkward self when you're in public, you'll get random visits from Kaji numerous times a week - which is a silent request to just have you in his arms.

Kaji's attention is taken away from his phone when he feels your fingers graze against his chin. Glancing down, he cocks his head to the side while pushing his headphones down to rest on the nape of his neck. "What's up?" he inquires softly, you don't say anything at first - merely directing your fingers towards his cheeks to graze against his skin there.

"Weren't you supposed to patrol today?" you ask, bringing your other free hand to push Kaji's hand that's holding onto his phone to your eye level. "In around 15 minutes yeah, I just left earlier." he answers, his fingers that were absentmindedly stroking your head grazing a few stray strands away from your forehead.

"It already takes 10 minutes from Furin to my house though? Shouldn't you leave soon?" you point out, but instead of rising from his lap to let him get up from the floor, you merely roll to your side to bury your face against his stomach before becoming still - leaving Kaji with both arms in the air, waiting for you to move.

"If you let me go, that is." he finally says after a second of silence, he can feel your slight nod before you plant your hands beside him to heave yourself up from his lap. And in the blink of an eye, you're at eye level with Kaji - his breath hitching at the close proximity.

"Don't come back with too many bruises, alright?" you remind, before slotting your lips briefly over his own. As you lean back you pull his headphones snugly over his ears again, mouthing something that makes Kaji roll his eyes. "You still let me inside regardless, so that threat doesn't work anymore."

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #haruka sakura x reader #suo hayato x reader #ren kaji x reader #hiragi toma x reader #umemiya hajime x reader

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