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#picking him up from the ground to show you this guy look at him
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Episode 12: Ties
I wanted to give a massive massive thank you to @wanderlust-in-my-soul for her generosity in making me so so many gifs over the last two weeks. Especially because I have not made it easy, and have had you doing a lot of the heavy lifting based off my write up rather than being nice and giving you time stamps. 
As such, here is the tie scene break down you requested!
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all gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Alright, we start off with Qian looking comfy cozy in his outfit as he heads out from the day, clearly something on his mind, his eyes initially cast downward as he starts walking at a pace initially that feels like maybe he was gonna walk home. As he pulls his attention upward, he slows almost to a halt as Yuan comes in to his view, and Qian looks at Yuan similarly to how he did in Episode 7 when Yuan returned from abroad in that he gives Yuan a once over, starting at his feet and working his way up. 
Slowly a smile starts to spread across his face, not a huge one, but Qian is not really a wide grin type of guy. He looks happy here, though to me it feels like Qian is trying to restrain his smile a little bit initially. But his smile grows bigger the closer to Yuan he gets, the more he has time to process that Yuan is here and that Yuan is wearing that. We give a shout out to Chris’ dimple we catch in the light as Qian finally comes to a stop in front of his boyfriend. 
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“What’s the matter? What’s got you smiling like that?” 
Yuan. You know exactly what’s got him smiling like that, but I appreciate the attempt at getting Qian to express his honest emotions. 
I mean, Qian has already more subtly checked Yuan out about twice in the time it took him to walk those twenty feet. And now that he is here, he takes yet another opportunity to very obviously take in the view. Qian gives a breath of laughter, looks down at the ground, shakes his head, and then looks back up the smile still plastered on his face as he reached out towards the lapels of Yuan’s jacket. 
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“Nothing.” He says, fidgeting with Yuan’s jacket, tugging at it, smoothing out the shoulders in a way that feels caring (similarly to how Qian fixes Lili’s bangs later on in the episode) but also in a way that allows Qian to get rid of some of that nervous energy, and touch Yuan in a way that feels romantic but has plausible deniability to any potential onlookers. 
He takes in a breath “I just feel good” He rubs Yuan’s arm over and over and over again “to have a handsome who dresses nicely to pick me up from work,” Yuan lets out a breathy chuckle, Qian is still smiling, I do not know if this man has sustained a smile this long in the entire series so far. Yuan breaks eye contact for a moment, which gives Qian another chance to look down towards Yuan’s chest, taking in the outfit he is wearing and how handsome he looks in it. Yuan is back to looking at Qian in seconds. 
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Clearly Qian’s refusal to look him in the eye after his initial confession has made an impact on both of them, because they do not break eye contact with each other for very long. Like even when Qian isn’t looking Yuan in the eye, he is still looking at Yuan. 
Qian makes a show of looking at Yuan, eyes flitting upward slowly still. He stops touching Yuan’s arm in favor of adjusting his backpack strap, but attraction is oozing from Qian in every motion, especially in the way he sucks in a breath. It feels awkward. In a good way. In a “I am having strong feelings and don’t really know what to do way.” It comes as absolutely not surprise that Qian starts to look around for any witnesses. We know what is coming next. 
What I do take note of with that action, the looking around is when and where Qian is comfortable being public about his relationship with Yuan. At the restaurant on their date, he has no problem being lovey-dovey, no problem flirting, no problem feeding Yuan, no problem asking for wine, or music; no problem being kissed. At work, Qian was obvious enough about their relationship, constantly touching Yuan, letting Yuan hold the hand that Qian had placed on his shoulder, that Xiong immediately picked up on it. Qian had no problem there, though he started on a speech under the assumption Xiong would not approve. Regardless though, he doesn’t seem to stressed about being obvious. 
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Which is generally (but not entirely) the case here. He and Yuan are out in the open, they are currently interacting in public, and Qian is comfortable enough to check Yuan out, to be touching Yuan, to flirt with Yuan. But that’s partially because there isn’t anyone around. In this public space, Qian actually does check to make sure that there are not witnesses to what he is about to do. To the acknowledgement of their romantic relationship. But, why? Random strangers on the street are not going to know these are brothers turned lovers. Maybe it’s just a lack of public PDA thing, maybe it is a slight nod to their potential to get hate crimed should the wrong homophobe see them. 
Regardless, I find it ironic that the places where Yuan and Qian are more likely to get flak for their relationship, that being at the restaurant and at the office in front of friends and coworkers, are the places where they are more comfortable engaging in PDA. Which I think might be a strange sort of safety in being open around the people you know, rather than the people you don’t even if that place is a private (office) public (meeting) space. Maybe it is protective in a way, to gauge the reactions of the people whose opinions they would have a little more interest in, and know how much damage control they might need to run. But the show is rushing at this point, so it’s all the more likely just a decision they made to show everyone is on their side. 
ANYWAY 
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Qian gets a bit more serious, checks his surroundings for potential witnesses, while Yuan looks on casually, and then Qian gives one short flash of a smile and then grabs Yuan by the tie to pull him in for a kiss. Yuan blinks rapidly as they pull apart and looks at Qian, the way he exhales makes me believe that Yuan is feeling electric. Like kissing Qian takes his breath away. Qian has a very small, very quick upturn of his lips and then reaches out to grasp Yuan’s face like he has done countless times before. Except this time everything is different. 
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Qian stroke’s Yuan’s cheek with his thumb, Qian unsuccessfully fights off a smile, and closes his eyes for a second to find the words he wants to say. “Thank you.” he whips his head up, looking Yuan directly in the eyes as he says it “Thank you for not giving up on me.” Qian gives Yuan a small smile, and Yuan gives him one in return and they share one last little private moment for themselves before Qian slides his hand down Yuan’s cheek, across his shoulder, and then finally off of Yuan’s body completely and walks away. 
Which leaves Yuan smiling like a dork, incredibly happy with everything that just happened. He looks down for a second, breathes, and then turns to get in the car, running a finger along his lip as he does so. Because Qian just kissed him, and (while it is perhaps to wipe any saliva off) he needs that tangible reminder.
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moonlightazriel · 1 day
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Chapter 16: When a friend is in need /// Azriel X F!Reader
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Summary: Lucien goes after his family for help, stepping in the Autmun Court for the first time in centuries.
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: The usual angst.
Notes: I thought about not posting this today, since everything that's been happening but I decided to post to bring some joy in between the terrible things that are happening, I hope you guys understand my position. Love u.
Main Masterlist
Worlds Apart Masterlist
Lucien held Elain’s hand and she noticed how his palms were sweaty, with a slight shake. She knew he was nervous, coming home after so long, she didn't even know how long it was. But here they were, strolling through the hallways of the Forest House. 
The wooden walls are adorned with centuries of Autumn Court art, orange curtains and the smell of oak. The decorations were picked to complement each other, everything ornate to create a magical atmosphere, but something felt wrong. 
She didn't know if it was the way the servants avoided looking at them, quickly bowing their heads at the sight of the youngest autumn prince or how they immediately ran away from their path. The atmosphere felt tense, like they were afraid of doing the wrong thing and being punished for it. 
But her mate had asked her to join him, he wanted her there, she even dared to think that he needed her there, to ground him and remind him that he had gotten out of that, he wasn't stuck under his father's grip anymore, he was a free male. 
The guards at the double door bowed their heads to him, pushing the doors open to reveal the throne room, Beron sat with a sneer, crown atop his head as he eyed Lucien and Elain up and down. By his side, silently, his mother sat, her eyes litting up with love and longing, her fingers twitched to touch her beautiful son. 
His eyes lingered on his mother for a little while longer, before he turned to his brothers standing by the sides, Eris first as always, being the first born and the heir. Arathorn by his side as the second oldest, Inialos as the middle born and then finally Elissar, the second youngest. Lucien could almost see himself by his side, serious expression and impeccable posture, like they did now. 
“I couldn't believe you would actually have the audacity to show up after that letter “demanding” a meeting!” Beron said and Elain flinched with the look directed to her. “Especially with someone like her, not even a real fae.” 
“I'm not here to talk to you.” Lucien said, ignoring the disgusting tone in his father's voice. “I came here to talk to you, brothers.” He turned to his siblings, they all looked at him with interest. 
“I'm here to ask for your help, we have an enemy in common, Koschei.” He started but Beron scoffed. 
“Koschei is not an enemy, he's here to save us all from someone like Rhysand and his whore of a mate.” Lucien felt Elain squeezing his hand harder. 
“Is that the lie he feeds you, father?” Lucien's stern gaze focused on the male at the throne, how he hated him. 
“It's the truth, and he'll make us powerful again.” Beron said with his chest puffed, confidence filled him. 
“More like kill you all.” Elain replied. 
“What do you know about it?” He barely looked at her.
“Koschei is from a world of demons, they kill and conquer, and do you know what can kill the likes of him?” Her voice didn't falter, she was ready to get them to work together no matter what. 
“What does kill him, dear sister?” Eris spoke, earning a growl from his father, Lucien needed him and he wouldn't fail him, not anymore. 
“Fire.” All of their eyes were on her now.
“Our fire.” Lucien added. “The fire of Celeste Vanserra, the only one who was close enough to kill Koschei.”
“There's no Celeste Vanserra. They are lying and you're too dumb to believe it, Eris. But I shouldn't be surprised.” If looks could kill, Eris would be dead by now. 
“She was my ancestor.” His mother spoke and he basked in the warmth of her voice, he missed her. “They tried to erase her from history, but her name was passed through the females in my family, no one forgot her, Celeste was the fire born, we carry her blood and her power.” 
“Lies!” Beron yelled, rising from his spot. Elain felt her head hurt, her vision getting blurry and her head was filled with visions, from a nearby future, where no autumn court remained, destroyed by Koschei. 
“It will be the end of your lineage, Beron Vanserra, and your own end. Koschei won't stop until he kills every single fae with fire abilities.” She warned, she could see his dead corpse in her head, his sons laying by his side. 
“And what do you want us to do, brother?” Arathorn intervened, stepping forward.
“You need to fight, we need to end Koschei, or else he'll end us.” Lucien begged and his brothers nodded. 
“We'll come with you.” Elissar promised, but Beron laughed, so loud that made Elain's ear hurt. 
“You won't do such a thing, no one will leave this court as Koschei isn't a threat.” He commanded, fear clouded his sons' gazes, they never respected him, but fear has a way to control people, make their bend to their will, but not anymore. 
“Your children will help us if they choose to do so, you won't stop them, or else your end won't come by Koschei’s hand. You will learn why they call me the King slayer.” Elain promised, her irises still white from the vision she had, Beron trembled with the simple promise her words carried, either he got out of the way or he would die. 
“If you go, don't dare coming back.” He threatened but for the first time, this felt more like a blessing than a curse. So one by one, his sons followed to their brother's side. 
“I will fight too.” His mother got up from the throne, walking to stand among her children, Beron was fuming but he wouldn't dare to try anything when his sons could do much worse to him. So he watched in silence as she cupped Lucien's cheek, pulling him in for a long, tight hug, whispered something in his ear and turned to Elain, repeating the motion. “Welcome to the family darling, I promise we are better than this.”
“I know. And I'm glad to be a part of this.” She gestured to the males surrounding her, and Beron sulked into his seat as he watched his wife and kids leave the throne room, leaving him alone and feeling disrespected for the first time in centuries. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
The Vanserras gathered around the dining table, the spectre twins serving them plates filled with food. Feyre talked happily with Wendy, lady of the autumn court. Azriel occasionally squeezed Y/N’s thigh under the table, feeling a bit uncomfortable in their presence, after all, centuries old feud between the two courts weren’t easily forgotten over a good meal, but he was happy they decided to help. 
“So…” Eris said, clearing his throat, all the attention drifted to him, the chatter dying down. “What’s the plan we have?” 
“Well, we will free Koschei.” The autumn heirs gasped.
“Do you  think this is the best way of handling this?” Inialos inquired, trying to be as polite as he was taught, not wanting to disrespect a High Lord in his own home. 
“Unfortunately it’s the only way of doing it, that’s where you will shine.” Y/N replied, giving the males an encouraging thumbs up. 
“We need you all to create a fire dome. Once Lucien, Azriel, Y/N and I are inside, nothing can come out. It’s your job to prevent Koschei from getting free and conquering the rest of Prythian.” Nesta said with a smile gracing her beautiful harsh face. 
“And you think we can do it?” Arathorn raised his eyebrow in disbelief. 
“We are the only ones that can do it, we carry the blood and the name of Celeste, we will finish what she started.” Wendy Vanserra guaranteed and her sons looked at their mother, the confidence that they hadn't seen shining in her eyes for centuries was finally back. She was free now and she would never go back to being a slave. 
“Then it’s settled. Let’s kill that bastard.” Eris raised his glass in a sarcastic toast, he was sure they were fucked but if Koschei was half as dangerous as he suspected, using his powers to its fullest was the least of their problems. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, watching as Y/N sat by the large window in her room. Her eyes distant, her eyebrows scrunched like she was in pain.
“I miss him.” Azriel smiled at that.
“It’s only been two days.” He sat by her side, his thumb tracing the side of her face, along the bumpy patch of skin that formed her scar. 
“We’ve never been apart for so long.” She took a deep breath. “After Asterin, he was my anchor for so long. He had lost his friends just like me, so I couldn't force more suffering upon him. Whenever I was nearing the edge..” An iron nail slided across the skin of her neck and Azriel swallowed harshly at the thought. “He kept me alive.” 
“He is fine, I know that.” He kissed her hand, the one he pulled away from her neck. “Soon you two will be together.” She rested her head against his chest, letting the beatings of his heart soothe her distressed mind. “Let’s go to sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow.” 
Y/N nodded, getting up and following the Shadowsinger towards the bed, allowing him to pull her closer and wrap his arms around her waist, his scent filling her mind. His fingers tracing invisible random patterns on the skin of her hips. 
“Do you think you will ever forget me?” She blurted, not allowing him to answer before she continued. “Cuz no matter the distance between us, how many worlds I travel to, you’re engraved in my heart forever, you saw me, truly saw me when I was afraid of looking at myself, you mended the broken pieces of my soul and made me someone again.” 
“Is this your way of saying goodbye?” He inquired and truly? She didn’t know.
She kept quiet for a while, her mind in a violent battle with her heart. She had to go back, Manon needed her, she had her duties to fulfil, Asterin would be so disappointed if she left it all behind. She couldn’t let Manon down cuz letting Manon down meant letting Asterin’s efforts all go to waste. 
“I don’t know.” Her heart bleeded with that answer, that stupid thing ready to throw it all out for him, her soul claimed for him. If the time ever came, she didn’t know how she would be able to choose. 
“In that case, I'm glad I had this time with you, it's more than i could’ve asked for, thank you for allowing me in your heart.” He kissed her lips with a delicacy that broke her heart just a bit further. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
The next day came, Y/N shuffled in bed, feeling more tired than the day before, her body rested but her mind kept awake, frantic thoughts preventing her from actually resting properly, she kept quiet, not wanting to wake Azriel up, she didn’t wanted to face the sadness that clouded his eyes after their conversation last night, too damn coward to face him, to tell him that she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone. Why would she say it, just to break both of their hearts when she eventually went home? She wouldn’t be that cruel.
So she sucked it up, taking a long scalding shower that usually helped her through the day, getting in the Illyrian leathers that were like a second skin to her now, attaching both her sword and cloak behind her back before she stepped out of the bathroom. Azriel is long gone. 
The house was empty, just Nesta sat there, silently sipping tea from a mug, her icy blue eyes moving upwards, following the movements of Y/N sitting down with a sigh. She took in the prominent dark circles and the sadness darkening her gaze.
“Hard night?” The oldest Archeron inquired, getting a shrug as a reply.
“How am I supposed to leave you all behind?” She said, looking far away from the female in front of her, her fork poking a fluff piece of scrambled eggs. 
“You know you don’t need to, you can stay here with us.” Nesta offered and her eyes filled with tears, so heavy that she lowered her head.
“I can’t.” She took a deep breath. “They need me!”
“Do they? Or is that what you tell yourself?” Y/N turned her cold gaze towards Nesta, the female almost flinched with the pain reflected in them.
“I don’t even know at this point. I don’t belong anywhere.” She hiccuped, tears falling down the sides of her cheeks. “I am no one, I’m not important anymore, I keep telling myself that they need me but you’re right, do they? Are they even looking for me?”
“That’s not true, you know?” Nesta slides her hand over the table, opening her fingers, letting her know that she was there for her. “You matter and you are important to us.” 
“I’m sorry I didn't mean to burden you with all of this, it’s just so lonely and suffocating sometimes. I’m sorry.” Nesta felt her placing her hand on top of hers, she grasped it, squeezing it hard.
“Never apologise for your feelings. I’m your friend, I'm here to carry this weight with you.” She smiled at the Archeron, sniffling and looking at her with bright blue eyes.
“I don’t deserve a friend like you, thank you for everything Nesta.” The female smiled back at her.
“You don’t have to thank me, it’s my pleasure to call you my friend.” Nesta gave two light squeezes in her hand. “Let’s go?” Y/N nodded, getting up, her barely eaten breakfast disappearing. 
“Alright.” The two females walked towards the training balcony, everyone was there apart from Cassian, he was with the Illyrian troops, gathering them and transporting them towards the Manor, Jurian was already waiting for them with all they needed to feed an army that big. But if everything went according to the plan, it wouldn’t be longer until they were back to their camps. 
“Good morning ladies.” Elain greeted, waving from Lucien’s side. She was more certain of her abilities of Seer now, she thought that she could help if she was around, Lucien wasn’t very fond of the idea but he would never tell her no. 
“Good morning.” Y/N replied, her eyes landing on the distant figure of Azriel, on the farest corner of the balcony, his shadows darted towards her, wrapping themselves around her ankles and wrists, brushing over her face and making her smile. He watched the exchange in silence.
“Since we’re all here, it’s time to go.” Rhysand warned. They all started to get in small groups, the ones able to winnow carrying those who couldn’t.
She felt the breeze on her face, opening her eyes, Morrigan had winnowed them to the front yard of the Manor, where people walked around, getting settled. Winged warriors in battle gears and sharp swords here and there. 
His loud roar sounded when Meraxes felt her closer, startling everyone around. He had been in a sour mood since she left, she knew that. So she ran, looking for him, finding him near Azriel in the backyard. The shadowsinger petted his nose, pointing towards her with a smile. Y/N threw herself against her wyvern, arms engulfing him in a hug. 
“I missed you.” She said and he growled in agreement, like he was telling her to never be apart from him again. She stood like that for what felt like an eternity, just feeling him, their hearts beating as one. “I need to ask you a favour.” His big eyes opened and he stood still. “You won’t be able to protect me once I’m inside, so please protect Lucien’s brothers, they will be vulnerable and we need them.” Meraxes nodded. “I love you.” He puffed some steam around her body, his way of saying that he loved her too.
“I’ll take care of her, I promise that to you.” Azriel said from behind her, he had stayed silent until now. He was hurt from the idea of losing her, but he understood whatever decision she made, he would accept it and he would still love her with every fibre of his being. Meraxes nodded towards him and pushed Y/N away, making her stumble towards Azriel, collapsing against his chest.
“He respects you.” She said as the two walked inside. 
“Just because we both love you.” She stilled, turning to him, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss. It was getting harder to think about leaving him. 
“We need to meet them, get everything planned for tomorrow.” She pulled him towards the dining room. 
“Why are we always the ones saving the world?” Cassian groaned, eyeing the map that displayed the lake and the cabin.
“Because we’re fucking awesome.” Morrigan replied, earning a chuckle from the table. 
“Then this should be easy.” Y/N spoke, getting closer to the table.
“Yeah, let’s get everything sorted.” Rhys silenced the table. “The illyrian troops will hide around in the forest along with the Vanserras.” Devlon and the red haired males nodded in agreement. “Azriel will disguise him and Lucien as Y/N and Nesta’s shadow.” Azriel nodded. “Y/N will pretend to take Nesta to him, and as soon as they’re inside, the dome needs to be up.” 
“It will be.” Eris spoke, earning an approving glare from Rhysand. 
“The monsters will attack as soon as he feels that something is wrong, so pay close attention, cut their heads out, and they will 100% die.” Y/N advised. 
“You already know the words Nesta?” The female nodded, she had been studying the freeing spell from the diary, they hoped it worked. “Then I think we are ready.” They all nodded. 
“You all should rest. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.” Elain kindly advised.
“Just a regular day for us folks.” Azriel said, the inner circle started to laugh. “You should rest.” He said, guiding her upstairs to the room they shared in their stay there. 
“If anything happens tomorrow, I'm glad we had this time.” She said, feeling dread setting in her gut. She couldn’t wait for this nightmare to be over.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
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makkir0ll · 15 hours
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setting the past (part two)
ukai x reader
wc: 1.8k
synopsis: you coach a volleyball team, one of the best in the country known for having mostly recruited players. you take pride in the fact that you have led your team to win a national championship title. And with the news of the rising team karasuno, your interest is piqued, mainly because that was your old school. you had known that they were nicknamed the "fallen crows" and such, so hearing about their fast improvement you decide you want to see it for yourself. you call up the school and takeda picks up. you organize a practice match for later that week.
but what you don't realize is that their coach is your highschool ex.
a/n: me when i post a part two after a month. sorry guys i was battling depression, school, and writers block but we survived and now i give you this. shoutout to @cottonlemonade for listening to me rant about this fic for hours.
part one
the aura in the gym is awkard. everyone can feel it. and they sure don't miss the way you and ukai keep sneaking glances at each other while the teams warm up. ears turning red when you guys make eye contact.
he's just observing your coaching style he says to himself. but he can't help but notice how pretty you are. your hair tied up so your neck can remain cool in the hot and humid gym. the sweat beads that drip down ur neck and onto your chest. he's starting to sweat a little and not because of the heat anymore.
and you surely think he's changed a lot too. the blonde hair definitely suits him, compared to his buzzed hair in high school (that you helped him with in the bathroom of the sakonishta store). and you for sure don't miss the two silver piercings on his left ear.
but your thoughts are interrupted when your team captain comes up to you "we're receiving first." you nod your head in acknowledgment, pulling out the whiteboard and giving the team the game plan.
"we're going to start out with haru, yoshi and kyo in the back line, for the best defense. and we'll have our tallest in the front." you point to the whiteboard. "remember that no matter what keep-"
"keep the ball in play" they all cut you off. you're surprised with that. do i really say that everytime you think to yourself.
"well since you already know the drill then. go and have fun. don't worry too much since this is just a practice match." you say smiling sitting back down on the chair as you watch them line up.
as the game starts nothing too interesting has happened yet. until you see a ball getting slammed to the ground out of nowhere and you look to see a jumpy first year land back from his spike. your team is frozen in their spots, they turn their heads to you and you turn your's to ukai. he just gives you a smug smile and shrugs his shoulders. clearly he likes to show off.
"don't mind it, get the point back!" you yell at them, as karasuno goes to serve. what the fuck have they been working on?
the game continues as your team slowly becomes accustomed to the first year's insane quick attack. you end up winning two straight sets but the points were really close throughout.
as you pack up your things you see a man with glasses approach you. you assume he's the one you talked to on the phone to plan out this match. you turn your body to face him and he holds his hand out to shake.
"thank you so much for coming all the way here, it must've been a long drive." he starts, still shaking your hand.
"oh it's no problem, thank you for having us. i know it was very last minute so thank you for being able to accommodate us." you reply, releasing your hand from his and bowing down slightly. "i think our bus driver is here, so we'll head out. i hope you see you again."
you hoped to see everyone but your ex, you lied to yourself. but deep down you couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach that would erupt whenever you would catch him glancing at you.
you and your team are walking back to the bus, they are eager to get home and you can see it on their faces how exhausted they are. you told them that you'll stop for food on the way back home and you're going to keep your promise.
once you counted fourteen players on the bus, you reach into your pocket for your phone, except you couldn't find it. with a sigh you turn to the bus driver, " i'm so sorry, but i think i left my phone back in the gym. i'll just go grab it really quick." you explain with an apologetic look on your face. he tells you it's no problem and to take your time. meanwhile he'll turn on the air conditioning because it's hot.
you turn around to walk back to the school, the smile on your face turns irritated. you really didn't want to run into ukai again. how emabrassing would it be to walk back in the gym. he would proabbly say some bullshit like "oh back so soon", with that stupid smirk on his face you thought to yourself. you really liked his stupid smirk.
your thoughts are interrupted when you hear your name being called out. you look up to see the fake blonde running towards you, your phone in his hand. you roll your eyes. of course this would happen to me of all people, this somehow seems worse.
he stands in front of you now. you take notice of how he's grown a couple of inches since you last saw him in highschool. "is this yours?" he asks, holding your phone out.
"yes, thanks." your tone is still sharp, you're really annoyed now. you would've rather just slipped into the gym quietly to grab your phone, not be face to face with your ex.
you grab your phone out of his hand, but your fingers ever so slightly graze each other and you feel his calloused hands from the years of volleyball. i wonder if they- NO NO NO STOP THINKING THAT.
once the device is in your hands, you begin to walk away, pulling up your friend's contact so you can update her on the absolute shit show that happened today.
"i saw they used your little trick back there," ukai says. it makes you stop in your tracks and you slowly turn around.
"what?"
"in the game, your team, they used that trick of yours from high school, right? the one where you would hit the block on purpose to get a rebound?" he explains to you, crossing his arms with that stupid smirk on his face gracing his features.
"so? it's a good technique. and since when were you this observant?" you question. ukai had never really been the one to know techniques, let alone remember yours. it might have made your stomach erupt with butterflies at the comment but you tell yourself its the anger bubbling up. with your frustration growing and all you wanted to do was go home, you turn around. "i'm going now, bye."
"you haven't changed a bit, y'know" he makes you stop, yet again. ukai couldn't help but admire how your passion for the sport never left. the way your eyes lit up everytime your team got a point was the same look that you had when you were in highschool. the way you spoke with so much thought and intent during time outs made him smile.
though you didn't think he meant it in that way. you thought he still thinks your the same dumb girl from highschool. you have changed a lot. you've grown as a person. you are NOT the same person from highschool.
"whatever ukai." you emphasize the use of his last name, walking away back to the bus as you ring up your friend. she picks up asking what happened.
"you will not believe the shit i just went through."
------
"and then get this, as im about to leave he goes 'you haven't changed a bit y'know' like what the hell is that supposed to mean?" you say to your friend who's on the other end of the phone. for the past twenty or so minutes you've been debriefing the utter chaos that happened today, what you don't realize is your team in the background quietly eavesdropping on your conversation trying to put the pieces together.
"i dunno y/n? but anyways why does this matter he is your ex from highschool," she emphasized the last word, "it shouldn't matter now, unless, y'know, he's a good fuck? is he?"
your voice goes to a whisper "i dont see how him being good in bed is related to this?" you know your team is listening to the conversation, they’re not slick about it and you can't have them hear you talk about things like this.
"because! maybe you'll meet again and have some hot makeup sex, and trust me it sounds like you need it." she explains, you cringe at her words trying to not imagine the scenario (you do later that night)
"anyways, i wouldn't know either way. we never got that far in highschool." you explain. you did all the other stuff though, just not the main act.
"what a shame, he sounds like he'd be good too."
"can you please not imagine my highschool ex in bed." you bring your fingers to smooth out your furrowed brows. you don't want to have wrinkles before you hit thirty. "anyways i have to go now we're back at the highschool, i'll talk to you tommorow." the bus comes to a stop and the team stands up to walk out of the vehicle. when they all step off the bus they thank the driver in unison before turning to you to hear any last minute annoucements.
"good work today," you start off. "i know it must've been a long drive but thank you for cooperating. i hope you enjoyed the game." they all nodded their head yes, too tired to express any other emotions. you could tell that they just wanted to go home and sleep. "alright then! go home and rest a lot, make sure you're eating enough and staying hydrated, because next week we're going to the summer training camp. that's all i have to say for today, i'll see you tommorow, goodnight!" they all reply with a tired goodnight mumbled under their breath as they make their way back home while you go towards your car.
once your in the tiny vehicle you immediately crank up the ac because although it is night your car still feels somwhat warm from the summer heat. as you're waiting for the car to cool down you're checking your email, and you see one from coach nekomata, the coach from nekoma highschool who invited you to the tokyo training camp. his email is answering your question that you asked a while ago about the teams that are going to be there.
Hi Y/n! Sorry I got back to you so late. I am still figuring out how to use this phone. But here are the list of teams that are attending the training camp:
Fukurōdani Academy
Nekoma High
Shinzen High
Ubugawa High
Karausuno High
Kozue High
you re-read the list of highschools again, making sure that you read them all right. karasuno high. you read the two words over and over again, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren't hallcuinating. with a groan you slump into your car seat.
"of course this could only happen to me"
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xhopelesslyromanticx · 6 months
Text
A birkin bag for Y/n - Lando Norris x Horner! Reader
Masterlist
Warnings: sexual references, swearing, mentions of alcohol
summary: When Y/n‘s situationship gifts her a really expensive bag seemingly out of the blue it causes quite the talk in the paddock. Little does she know he‘s just trying to show everyone who she belongs to. (Inspired by the famous birkin bag scene in Gilmore Girls)
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Lando was intrigued with you from day one. Literally from the get go. He remembers the first time he had bumped into you in the halls of his close friends home. He clearly remembers every second despite being hungover from the night before.
Your hands were jam packed with all kinds of crafting supplies that shattered on the ground, crayons spilling everywhere.
„Ah shit!“ the sleepy guy exclaimed as a small hand immediately slapped his shoulder. He looked at your face in shock. He was violently hungover from his late night celebraions with a certain three time world champion yet he had never seen such a beautiful thing.
„Shh!“ you whispered, him raising his brows questiongly „Penelope could hear you!“
Lando chuckled, as you started picking up all the crayons. He kneeled down grabbing some as well. He knew your face was somehow familiar. He couldn’t quite place it though. The freckles, the dimples and that hair.
„Babysitter?“ he asked mustering your face.
„Sort of.“ you nodded, shooting him an innocent yet friendly smile „Family friend.“
He hands you a blue crayon with a grin. You knew the grin probably made any girl weak in the knees and judging from the blonde woman you and little Penelope had watched stumble out of his room this morning while munching on your cereal, he knew as well.
„Well nice to meet you nanny.“
You cringe at the name before rolling your eyes „Nice to meet you to Lando.“
Lando had loved that. You hadn’t acted like you didnt know his name. You just didn’t care enough to pretend to ask. You smiled again before licking your lips and getting up. Hearing Penelope call your name. Y/n. What a name. He eatched you stumble away on that day, knowing he wanted to get to know you.
And he did. He learned very quickly,that you were in fact Horners daughter. Which was of course to his luck, because Christian loved him. So he showed up at family hosted events, made some apparences in the red bull motor home and before he knew it you spent the night at his.
Well it wasn‘t that easy. He had to do some convincing. But god Lando loved kissing you. He was addicted to it in fact. In every corner, whenever noone was watching his lips were on yours as he pressed you against the walls.
„Someone could see.“ you mumbled against his soft lips, slightly pressing your palms against his broad chest. Having to control youraelf from giving in.
„I don’t care.“ he chuckled his hands under your shirt rather quickly.
It was always like this. Sneaking around, yet most of the grid was aware off the little fling. But Lando had told you quite blank from day one; he didn’t do boyfriend and girlfriend. And having gotten out of a longer realitionship just months prior you were okay with that. You could do it, you thought. And it was fun for a minute. Exciting and new.
„No strings.“ you held out your little finger snd Lando rolled his eyes at the childish gesture. But he interwined his pinky with yours anyway after some hesitation. Laying on his hotelroom bed with your body next to his.
„No strings.“ he nodded. You smiled waiting for the next words before you raised your brows.
„You gotta say it.“ you exclaimed gesturing to your interwined hands.
„I don‘t want to.“ he groaned, his body pressing against yours as he was hovere above you.
„Okay.“ you nodded before turning around and crossing your arms „Then no sex.“
Lando chuckled pulling you into his body as he inhaled your scent „Fine.“
You smiled waiting to hear the words escape his lips as he pressed his lips against the crook of your neck „I pinky promise.“
Months passed like that. And it was fun for a moment. But reality eventually creeped back up. And as you were sat at brunch at your dads house back in England, having scrolled through endless pictures of Lando celebrating his podium in Silverstone the day prior. Including pictures of him with countless women. But you knew it was no fair. He could do whatever he wanted. Yet you somehow had gotten the sense that he maybe wasn’t sleeping around like that anymore. After all, you two saw eachother almost every week at least very two weeks. You just thought maybe it was heading somewhere, but clearly its wasn‘t.
It had been so easy. Life had been good. You had an internship at a sports paper back in Monaco. You were studying to be a journalist, meaning you weren’t necessairily location bound. And it allowed you to attend races. Which allowed you to see Lando. But not this race. You hsd promised Lando you‘d make it but cancelled last minute as you had to attend some stupid event in Monte Carlo. You had watched the race on the toilet, your phone in your hands the whole night. God you had been so proud once he had finished that crossing line. If only he knew how important he was to you. You think you might even have screamed a little when it was over. And of course you had immediately texted him. „Plan A babyyyy! so proud of you Lan, kisses and see you soon xx“
But there hadn‘t been any response. And seeing the pictures from the whole ordeal over the weekend you now understood why. While you had sat on the plan, still wearing your gown from the event he had been out and fooled around with lord knows who. You knew you had no right to be jealous or something. But you weren’t even jealous. You were just dissapointed, having expexted to be a little more important than that. But Lando was a player. He didn‘t do boyfriend/girlfriend.
You were so lost in your thoughts, not even having heard the front door open. Starkng at the perfectly arranged flowers your stepmom had on the wooden table. The whole house and every corner was so perfect, it made you think about how your dad really had a great woman by his side. She had made this place a home. Something it truly hadn’t been growing up there.
„Well good morning sweetheart!“ your fathers voice appeared behind you as your dad walked into the dining room where the brunch had been prepared.
Max and Kelly following behind him, having all drove out here to get some time off. The countryside the perfect place to do so. No people who‘d recognize you, not even in the little town nearby. And even if they did, they truly didn‘t care enough to bother you.
„Dad.“ you smiled getting up and hugging your father tightly, your arms wrapping stound his taller figure. Your dad quite suprised by the affectionate hug, as he held you close for some seconds; He immediately knew. From the second he saw you staring blankly at that wall just before to this desperate hug, something was wrong. He watched you greet everyone else with a somehow fake smile, including Max and Kelly who both hadn‘t seen you in some time as your job was keeping you really busy.
„What are you even doing back home?“ your dad later asked as everyone was eating.
„Well, I was suprised to to see her stumble in here this morning.“ Geri, your stepmom chuckled.
Max mustering you. He knew, he had seen the pictures. Well he had been there. Having told Lando if he was aware of the cameras on him as he was pushing his tounge down some girls throat. He even told some people to delete the photos. But people were drunk, plus Lando was famous. A deadly combination.
„What about Y/n, Lando?“
Max knew you two weren’t exactly offical. He had no idea what kind of realitionshipi it was. But he had seen you two. It was evident you both had feelings for eachother. So this was just stupid. It would hurt both of you. Especially you and Max thought of you like a little sister.
„Why should I care?“ Lando groaned sounding extremly cocky, making Max wanna puke. Lando scrunched his nose before he pushed past the dutch guy who just stood there baffled.
Now seeing your puffy eyes looking at everyone at the table. Max knew; you had seen the stupid pictures. You probably had flown out to England for Lando. And Lando had been an absolute idiot the past 24 hours.
„I wanted to suprise you.“ you whispered, lying to your dad. But your dad wasn’t stupid, he knew it probably had to do with a certain british boy who you seemingly had befriended ove the past few months. He had his concerns but you were a grown woman, he knew he shouldn’t get inbetween anything.So he just smiled before nodding „Well that’s nice. I‘m certainly surprised honey.“
The week passed quick. You spent some time with your siblings and Max and Kelly before saying your goodbyes again. Telling your dad you‘d see him in Hungary.
„Come to London please.“ You couldnt believe it. After three whole days of zero contact he had finally texted you. He didn‘t ask yet he clearly saw your instagram story showing you were back home. You wanted to text him, be mad and tell him how hurt you were. But you weren’t like this. Your weekend with your patents had made you realize you haf been raised better. Maybe you had lied to yourself. Maybe you couldn‘t do no strings attached. Maybe having standards was a good thing.
So you didn‘t respond. You told him a couple of days later; „sorry was busy, see you in hungary.“
It was the weekend before the Grand Prix you attended yet another absoluetly jam packed Gala event in Monaco. You were luckily not gonna be important next to all the stars and socialites there. So you put on some regular black dress, did your own hair and makeup before getting an uber there.
The evening was rather dull. But you‘d have to report on it for the paper next week so you had to stay for every second. You saw a couple if familiar faces, talked to some old family friends before admiring the beautiful hotel the thing was hosted at. The big chandeliers sparkling so brightly, you were bound to be mesmerized. It was then as you grabbed yet another glass of champagne when you turned around bumping into some guys chest.
„Oh. I‘m sorry!“ you exclaimed looking up at the familiar face. The blonde hair sitting ever so perfectly as the tailored suit sat on his broad shoulders. The tall guy shooting you a sly grin „You‘re fine my love dont worry.“
„Logan.“ you chuckled. Having seen the rookie a couple of times at least. But never really having spoken to him.
„Hello there.“ he waved awkwardly before induldging you in some small talk.
Logan was nice guy. Despite the internet making fun of him for his very american ways he was nice and polite. It started as nice chatters but somehow you two ended up at a corner at the empty bar, downing glass after glass of whatever alcoholic beverage the american ordered.
„So weird seeing you without Norris.“ he eventually bound up saying.
You scrunched your nose, a thing you always did but even more when you were drunk. If there was botox for that you might as well start young.
„Why is that weird?“ you giggle, your words coming out slower than usual as you kick your heels against the legs of the bar chair. Playing with the rim of your already empty champagne glass.
Logan looks down at you, seeing you nervously bounce your legs. He licks his lips, and if you weren‘t shitfaced you would have gotten the ick a long time ago. The guy was so obviously trying to flirt with you. Something you hated. Well except when Lando did it.
„Ah, I don‘t know I just thought he was your boyfriend?“
You burst out into laughter, causing some of the last people in there to look at you. Women being loud, something people clearly hated or were at least severly triggered by.
„What‘s so funny?“ Logan blushed looking around, kind of embarassed by the eyes on you. Lando would never be embarrassed. Yeah well Landos laugh was also way louder than yours.
„See…“ you catch your breath, before rolling your eyes and playfully punching his shoulder „Norris doesn’t do girlfriend boyfriend or boyfirend girfriend silly!“
Logan chuckled before his hand was placed on your upper thigh. It was like he had waited to hear that. It came so quick and at the most obvious time. The american guy leaned in towards you before whispering into your ear „You wanna head home?“
He smelled weird. No he actually smelled fine. He just didn’t smell like Lando. Lando smelled so perfect. Like your favorite smell ever.
Your heart ached for a second. This probably was good right? You had to do the whole multiple people thing. Lando was doing it. So you also had to.
„Why not?“
So you walked out the place with the blonde american. Not looking back once. Only what you didn‘t notice as you stumbled down the stairs with your heels in your hands was that, Arthur Leclerc who was Charles brother and Oscars best friend had waited for his girfriend outside when he spotted a very tipsy you get in a car with none other that Logan Sargeant.
The week passed rather quick and before you knew it you were sat on a plane towards Hungary. You were gonna arrive just in time for Qualifying. Heading straight from the airport to the paddock, having to change into a appropriate outfit at the airport toilet. Again. Low point.
It was a long taxi drive later that you made your way into the paddock, holding your recorder and noteclips. What you hadn’t known strutting, in there in your still perfectly white suit that could have used some ironing but no one’s perfect, that you actually had been the talk of the grid over the past two days.
Arthur Leclerc had a loose mouth. He had immediately texted Charles asking if Y/n Horner wasn’t involved with Lando Norris anymore. To which the older Leclerc responded that as far as he knew Lando and Y/n were somehow together all the time but not really exclusive. When Arthur dished the tea to him later the next day that he had seen you and Sargeant looking rather cozy with one another Charles immediately texted Carlos asking if there was trouble in heaven. The boys just loved gossip. And we all know who Carlos is best friends with.
On press day the ferrari driver asked his former teammate, right after getting of the panel „So Y/n’s really not as goody two shoes as we thought huh?“
Lando looked at him confused, he had just spent four days figuring what he had done to seemingly piss you off. No messages, the way you had stayed with your dad when you had promisef him to come to London. He missed you. He just couldn‘ admit that. No strings right? Plus he didn’t do boyfriend girlfriend.
„What do you mean? What about her?“
„Yeah well…“ Carlos chuckled awkwardly now spotting the very hot topic off his rumor talking to Oscar in the corner of the waiting room. Logan was showing Oscar something on his phone while the two youngest guys on the track waited for their turn to do interviews.
„Carlos, I don‘t have all day.“ Lando groaned, punching his friends shoulder „What about Y/n?“
Carlos contemplated for a second. He knew Lando was acting like he had no feelings for you but Carlos knew exactly that wasn‘t the case. He had after all been the one dragging the brit home after the silverstone afterparty. And the whole drive to the hotel the young Mclaren driver kept on talking about you and everything about you and everything about your looks and so on.
„Her eyes. Her hair, the way she scrunches her nose when shes confused.“ Lando slurred his head on Carlos lap as he was about to pass out „Y/n‘s just great. She- She is girlfriend material.“
„So Charles told me that Arthur told him. That last Saturday at some sort of Gala in Monaco, he spotted Y/n leaving with another driver…“
„What!“ Lando yelled immediately , causing everyone to look at him. Carlos hand covered his mouth, stopping him from screaming the place down. Shooting everyone an awkward smile as they continued their own thing with raised eyebrows.
„Shh!“ Carlos whispered as Lando looked at him in fury before removing the hand from his mouth.
„Don’t tell me to shush! Who the fuck did she leave with!“ he whisper yelled, and Carlos sighed. He really didn’t want any bad blood in between the grid to start because of him so he knew he couldn’t tell names:
„Well, Lando you two aren’t official so you dont really have the right to get mad at her.“ Carlos explained trying to sound reasonable. But Lando just raised his eyebrows holding up his hands clearly acting innocent as a lamb.
„Hold on! I‘m not mad at her! Im mad at whoever thinks its okay to take something that clearly belongs to me!“
Carlos chuckled. His friend sounded like a little kid in preschool who‘s toy was stolen. Guess that’s what love does to you „Lando first of all no one really knows if you two are offical or not…“
„I don‘t have to be offical with her, she‘s off limits for any other driver and they know it.“ he argues back and it actually makes so much sense in his head. Much more sense than it does to Carlos at least „If you don’t actually your car, I‘ll still never juste drive it.“
„But Y/n‘s not some bag Lando. You cant actually own her-„
„Thats it!“ Lando smiled and Carlos looked rather confused. He musters his seemingly insane friend who looked like he had just found the answer to lifes most profound question.
„What?“
„Im gonna get her a bag.“
You had just arrived at some food stand, grabbing a coffee and a bagle when a hand grabbed yours. You turned around looking up at the beautiful curly haired guy. Landos eyes looked at you as he had a huge grin on his face „Hey baby.“
„Lan.“ you stated, rather suprised by the bubbly greeting. Last time you had checked both of you were ignoring one another. But Lando didn‘t even give you any time, he put his hand on your back before guiding you towards the mclaren motorhome like he was on some sort of mission.
„What are you doing?“ you chuckled as he pulled you past security who grabbed your bagle and coffee as it was not allowed to bring food from outside. Rude. You looked Lando up and down as you followed him. He was already in race gear probably having to go on track any minute now.
The young guy didn’t say a word he just pulled you into his drivers room closing the door behind him quickly. Before he immediately smashes his lips against yours leaving you no choice but kiss him back. After a while you come to your senses as you push him off you “What‘s going on Lan?“
You missed this. But you weren’t naive, he was acting like you hadn‘t completely had zero contact over the last two weeks. Like he hadn’t ignored you for days after Silverstone. Lando pressed his lips together, his hands still on your waist. He looked like he was contemplating to say something but then shook his head.
„Baby.“ he whispered, his fingers digging into the material of your white blazer.
„Yes?“ you asked sounding rather hopeful. Maybe youw two were actually gonna talk for once.
Lando looked into your eyes before taking a deep breath „I got you something.“
He what? The brit now turned around and you looked at him dumbfounded. He walked over to the cabinet pulling out an orange paper bag. You furrowed your brows. Not understanding what on earth he was doing. He got you a present?
„Here.“ the brown haired handed you the big bag and you looked at him confused.
„It‘s not my birthday yet.“ you stated knowing your birthday was coming up soon. Maybe he had remembered wrong, wouldn’t be a suprise as he seemingly didn’t care where you had been the last two weeks.
„I know but just open it!“ he chuckled, sounding like an excited little boy. You can’t help but giggle nodding as you walk towards the table. You place the bag down pulling out an orange cotton bag. You look at Lando still lost before pulling out the inside. Holding a rathe big snd bright pink leather bag in your hand.
You scrunch your nose „A purse?“
„You dont like it?“ Lando looks panicked and you get even more confused. He sighs rubbing his face „I thought pink was your favorite color.“
„No it’s nice! Really nice!“ you admit looking at the bag „Im just confused why you got me a- a bag? I mean i know im a girl, and I love bags but why..“
„It‘s not just any bag.“ he chuckles, only now realizing you had no idea what you were holding in your hands. He forgot you actually grew up with only a father. This could be amusing.
„What is it then? A special bag?“
„Ah forget it.“ Lando shrugged it off, kissing your cheek . This maybe was actually good. If you didn’t know what the bag meant you‘d go parade it in front of everyone which was exactly what Lando wanted. This bag would surely keep anyone away „I hope you like it baby.“
„I love it Lan!“ you smiled, before tiptoeing and kissing his cheeks. In all honesty the bag was nice but you had still no idea why he‘d just gift you some purse. But you figured it was his way of aplogizing or somethingand you really had no time to discuss the matter at that moment „If you excuse me now I gotta go show everyone my new bag and you have to go race. Good luck!“
Lando couldnt believe it. His plan had sorta backfired. But in the weirdest most unexpected way. He was stunned as he watched you strutting away with your new bag in one hand as you grabbed your coffe on your way out. This could be fun.
Kelly was watching her boyfriend qualifying from the redbull garage as she noticed you walk up to her. The dark haired woman smiled talking off her headphones „Y/n!“
„Kells!“ you embraced her in a hug. You two catch up a little and you just wanna ask Kelly about Little P when her eyes fall onto the bright pink thing in your hand. Kelly raised her eyebrows staring at it“Wow does your internship suddenly pay that much?“
„What?“ you chuckled, noticing her eyes on your bag. You pull it up swinging it around a little before wiggling your eyebrows „Oh, this?“
You roll your eyes turning it around „It‘ a pretty nice bag right?“
Kelly looks at you a little stunned „Nice?“
„You dont like it?“ you ask mustering the older woman „Well you won’t believe this but Lando got me this, totally random!“
„Lando got you a birkin!“ Kelly now yelled covering her mouth in shock as everyone started to look at the two of you. It was then that your step mom appeared from the backroom, taking off her own headset. Looking at Kelly and than at you snd than the very pink bag in your hand.
„That’s what it‘s called?“ you scrunched your nose before chuckling„Its apparently a special purse.“
„Who got you this?“ Geri now asked looking utterly confused at the very beauty you were holding in your hands. She had seen her share of beautiful birkins but this was next level. You grew more confused by the second as people were suddenly hovered around you, well especially women.
„Well- Hello to you to.“ you say rolling your eyes „It‘s just a bag girls. Lando got me it and it was so weird, it was completly out of the blue!“
„Just a bag?“ Geri asked, looking at Kelly unbelievingly „Y/n thats a very nice purse!“
„Oh.“ you state, raising your eyebrows „Maybe I shouldn’t use it then?“
„Oh no, A birkin bag is meant to be used honey!“ Geri chuckled, and Kelly can’t help but laugh along still absolutely shocked„Max never got me a birkin bag.“
„Whatever.“ you now shrug not knowing how a bag could be such a big deal. The two women continue their jokes before you walk around and take off. You had work to do after all. You muster your bag one last time. A birkin bag. Whatever that was. You should probably google it later.
Talk of the bright pink birkin bag that had been gifter by the very Lando Norris spread like water. Soon everyone knew about the most expensive hermes bag being given to a certain young journalist who was parading it like she had zero idea what it was. Well, that was actually the truth. Even instagram had their fieldday seeing you enter Mclarens motorhomes with Lando and leaving it with a pink birkin.
But you were too busy to notice. You only noticed the stared from every woman passing you and the fact that even some of the drivers started whispering and pointing at you whenever you passed them.
When Carlos bumped into you and noticed the little thing in your hand he immediately wanted to slap Lando. He Couldn’t believe the young guy thad actually pulled through with the utter insane plan. He had watched the guy make five hundred calls the day prior. If he had known what kinda bag he was on the hunt for, he‘d probably tell him to forget it.
„Max!“ Carlos yelled running up to the dutch driver, Max turning around „Yes?
„Did you see what he did?“ Carlos asked completely out of breath. Max raised his eyebrows taking a sip of his water in his Red Bull bottle.
„Who did what?“ Max asked, looking at the spanish ferrari driver.
„Lando.“ he stated and Max ju shrugged his shoulders, completely oblivious to the gossip that had been circulating all day„He bought her a birkin bag!“
„Who?“
„Y/n!“
„That little sly fuck!“ Max cussed, not actually believing what he was hearing. Everyone knew what gifting a birkin to a woman means. It‘s like putting a lock on her. It could be only described as some sort of pre proposal, letting every guy know: she is in fact off limits and you better back off.
„He couldnt ask her out normally huh?“ Max laughed shaking his head, grinning at the thought of the young brit.
„No. It‘s Lando. Typical Lando.“
On race day you decided you had enough for once and for all from the stares shot your way every second you walked through the paddock. The bag was pretty yes, but people were surely acting like it was a god. You walked into the redbulm garage approaching Kelly who was stood there with Max and your dad.
„Guys!“ they all stared at you as you looked at them in frustration.
„What the hell is the deal with this stupid purse!“ you held up the thing once again and your dad looked at you suprised while Max chuckles. There‘s a moment of silence before your father crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows.
„It‘s hideous?“ Christian asked. Max and Kelly looking at both of you stunned.
„Dad!“ you punched him with the bag as he laughed like an evil witch. He always made fun of your clothes so this wasn’t personal.
„Y/n!“ Kelly yells before the panicked women reaches out to garv the bag out of you hands like it was a child in need. She wrapped her arms around it protectively looking at you in fury. Meanwhile you look at her like she’s the one that’s lost her mind and so does your dad.
„What the-„
„Okay Christian.“ Max took a deep breath, looking at Kelly who was looking at him in desperation. Silently begging him to put an end to her misery of watching you treat a birkin like that„You may wanna take a seat for this.“
„Bullocks.“ Christian chuckled raising his eyebrows as you looked at Max confused. What was everyone’s problem?
„Well, this bag.“ Max ponited at the thing in Kellys hand and you looked at him exceptingly „It’s a birkin bag. And Lando gave it to you? Right Y/n?“
You slowly nodded, your dad already confused on why Lando would even buy you a bag in the first place. You weren’t that serious, right?
„Well its a forty thousand dollar bag. At least.“ Kelly now stated.
You felt like your heart stopped beating „A what?“
„Why?“ your dad now looks at you putting two and two together „Why does Norris gift you a forty thousand dollar bag Y/n?“
„I- Uhm.“
„I don’t know?“ you lied, before going to grab the bag from Kelly’s hand. Your dad throwing daggers at you. Realizing his daughter actually isn’t as innocent as she seems. You grin awkwardly „If you excuse me now. I gotta go!“
You wahtched the race from the stands, figuring you‘d be safest there as you tried to grasp the sheer fact that Lando had actually bought you a bag that cost more than all your other bags combined. And god you didn’t even say thank you really. But you also truly didn’t understand why he‘d do something so insane. This was serious. You don‘t gift bags like this to your situationship. After a long day you finally headed back to the hotel. Texting Lando to come to your room to talk on your way there.
You were getting ready to out to dinner with your family when a knock appeared at your door. In nothing but yout bathrobe you went to open the door expecting it to be Lando only to be met with a certain american guy lean against your doorframe „Howdy.“
„Logan.“ your eyes were wide open as he looked you up and down with a sly grin.
„Greetings.“ god he was unbarebale when not drunk. You look at the taller guy an awkward grin plastered on your lips.
„What do you want?“ you asked and you knew it sounded quite rude. But you quite honestly didn’t care because Lando could show up any second and you didn’t exactly want him to find you here with Logan.
„I wanna talk.“ He speaks as he pushes past you. You watch him enter your room. Well he was persistent.
„Well, now really is a bad time.“ you stated gesturing to your soaking wet hair and bathrobe. He really had to leave.
„How so?“
„Well, to be quite frank.“ but you couldnt finish it because a second later the door opened behind you. You shut your eyes knowing exactly who that was and how this was gonna look for you. Lando walks in fully dressed for the night, spotting you stand there in your bathrobe, your back turned towards him and in the room none other than. What? Logan? Really?
„What the fuck is he doing here.“ Lando asked not even acknowledging Logans presence. Great. Could anything go your way. You sighed turning around and looking at him „Lan…“
„I‘m here to pick her up for dinner.“ Logan states crossing his arms. You turn back around. He was not serious. „What?“
„Excuse me?“ Lando hissed, clearly already getting worked up about the fact that the Williams driver had the audacity to show up here after he had clearly made sure the whole paddock knew you were his. The birkin had done his job. People had already texted him congratulations on the realitionship.
„Yes remember, we made the plans last week when I came to your place?“ Logan asks you, quite literally doing it on purpose. You knew he was doing it on purpose.
„So hold on!“ Lando grabbed your shoulde and you turned around to look at his pissed off expression „He‘s the other driver?“
„The other what?“ you exclaimed being quite lost. Logan just chuckling, he had heard that Lando was trying scare someone off, apparently it was him. It mad Logan chuckle, surely you wouldn’t be so easy right?
„Last week you left an event with another driver!“ Lando hissed, pointing at the blonde american whi stood there with a cocky smile “It was him?“
„Yes.“ Logan grinned and you knew if he wanted Lando to punch him he was almost there. The brit had a short temper for stuff like this.
„Wait!“ you now yelled turning your attention towards Lando only „How do you know that!“
„Arthur saw you.“ Lando hissed, looking at you with a digusted expression. He starts to pace up and down the room and you roll your eyes at the dramatics.
„Lando calm down!“
„He’sinsane.“ Logan chuckled, shaking his head „Thinking he can put dibs on girl with some freaking bag just because he‘s too stupid to ask her out.“
„Logan!“ you now sighed , pointing at the door „Leave!“
Logan looks at you unamused but seeing you were serious. He rolls his eyes before pushing past you and leaving your room. Slamming tbe door shut on his way out, causing you to flinch as you stare at Lando who‘s looking like some maniac.
„Jesus!“ you sighed.
„Did you have s*x with him?“ Lando asked, blurting it out without hesitation but scared of the answer. You looked at him completely lost on what gave him that idea. Arthur for sure wasn’t a reliable source. Noted.
„What if I did Lando? We agreed on no strings!“ you tried to reason with him. The whole bag thing and him acting all jealous. It made zero sense „Its not like you weren‘t the one who was partying with a million girls after Silverstone.“
„Because I was mad at you!“ Lando now yelled. He really hated to admit this. He hated talking. He‘d rather buy you a million birkins but he knew his words were now needed.
„For what?“
„For not being there. You knew how important it was for me!“
„Lando I had to work!“ you sighed, still lost on how this all made sense „Thats why you slept with other women? Because you missed me?“
„I didn‘t sleep with anyone!“ he now defensed himself. You take a step back raising your brows as you realize you had been foolish.
„But the pictures?“
„Yes I made out with some of them. Im not proud. But I went home with Carlos.“ he sighed, looking at your smaller frame „And I got you that bag hoping you‘d forgive me for that. Well I also got it to scare the competition off.“
„Why didnt you say anything?“
„The bag speaks for itself or so I thought.“ he shakes his head „Only I forgot you aren’t like every other girl.“
„Lan.“ you smiled weakly, approaching him and putting your hand against his face „It‘s a nice bag. But unfortunately you will have to take it back because baby, forty thousand dollars? Thats ridiculous!“
Lando chuckled knowing how insane he sounded. He looked down at you „It was fifty thousand actually. I was trying compete with the other driver. If had known it was Sargeant I‘d gotten you something cheaper trust me.“
You can’t help but laugh „You’re mean!“
„No but seriously? He’s american!“ Lando said his voice all high pitched.
„I know.“ you. giggle, shaking your head „I didn’t t sleep with him tough baby. So you can take the bag back and buy yourself a car.
„Oh thank god!“ Lando sighed in relief his whole body relaxing. God he could be dramatic.
„I thought I was gonna have to pull an exorcism to get that thought out of my head.“
„Well we kissed.“ you smirk „So theres your exorcism.“
Lando fake gags and you punch his shoulder. Before wrapping your arms around his neck. Tugging on his curls. You look into his beautiful eyes, and he smiles down at you.
„So this no strings thing.“ he mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek. You feel your heart flutter as he comes down and kisses your lips softly his hand on your chin. He smiles „Its really just silly isn‘t it?“
You giggle „It is silly baby.“
„Okay from now on its strings baby.“ he states his hands wrapping around you body.
„Oh-„ you look at him with a scrunched nose „You might wanna skip that and go do boyfriend girlfriend right away.“
„Why?“
„Mhm…“ you sighed „Pretty sure my dad knows we had s*x.“
„What?!“ his eyes are wide open „How?“
„The stupid-„ you start but he interrupts you with raised brows.
„Birkin Bag.“
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slttygeto · 9 months
Text
SLOWLY LOVING YOU — SUGURU GETO.
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જ⁀➴ synopsis: Before Yaga introduces you to the third years, Suguru is a little unsure of you joining them. And then he meets you, and suddenly his heart doesn’t know how to slow down.
જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, reader gets a few cuts and faints, swearing and a lot of fluff.
જ⁀➴ word count: 4,2k
જ⁀➴ note: thank you to the sweet @duhsies for commissioning me! I had so much fun writing it<3!!
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“Yaga says there’s a newcomer,” Satoru had a habit of speaking with a mouthful, which Suguru really hated. A hand is smacking the back of the white haired’s head who hisses at the contact before glaring at his best friend.
“Hey!” He protests, his sunglasses resting at the tip of his nose.
“Swallow your food.” Suguru presses, taking a sip from his drink. He had heard long ago from Yaga about this newcomer, and wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. It’s not that he wasn’t good with new people (he wasn’t), but he felt like it was a little odd to transfer someone and have them be with him, Shoko and Gojo right away. They had to have a good cursed technique, a great control of their cursed energy, otherwise they’d just get in the way of everything and—ouf, this was too negative.
Who was he to judge? Sure, a part of him was skeptical, but he was trying to awaken the other side that usually reassures him that everything will turn out just fine.
“I wonder if it’s guy or a girl,” Satoru speaks again, and this time (surprisingly) he swallows his food before opening his mouth. Suguru shrugs at his best friend, grabbing a fry from his tray of food.
“It won’t really change much, I just hope they’re good at what they do,”
“Oh Suguruuu,” Gojo whines at his friend’s negativity, pushing him but not too hard. “Don’t be such a kill joy, I’m pretty sure that they’re good. Otherwise, Yaga wouldn’t look so excited.”
“Why are you the one telling me to be nice?” The black haired male raises an eyebrow, carefully picking out a fry that didn’t have ketchup on it.
“You rubbed off on me,” Satoru wiggles his eyebrows to which Suguru rolls his eyes at.
“Don’t.” Suguru presses, but it’s too late to stop his friend’s funny joke.
“That’s a little fruity—“
“Finish your food.”
When they head back to the school grounds after having lunch, they’re pleasantly surprised when they find Yaga, Shoko and an unknown girl standing near one of the school buildings. From the looks of it, you weren’t that nervous. Sure, you were checking out your surroundings as the school was new, but nothing about your demeanor suggested that you were anxious. Not even a little.
Suguru raises his eyebrows at this, and although he tries not to stare too hard at you, Gojo is quick to notice it and nudges him with an elbow.
“Hey, think that’s the new girl?”
“I mean, it looks like it,” Suguru mumbles a response and stops walking when Yaga starts to approach them.
“You finally decided to show up,” Oh, an ass-whooping is on the way.
“The mission took us way too long,” it’s Satoru who tries his luck as his usual, and the grin on his face draws a similar one on Suguru’s lips.
“Yeah, but we managed to get it done with. That’s all what matters,” if it wasn’t for Satoru’s love to piss off their teacher, Suguru is sure that he wouldn’t bother. But it’s fun, and it gives the students something to laugh about.
You watch the scene unfold before you and you raise your eyebrows at how easy going the pair standing in front of you was. Did they not fear Yaga? You had been introduced to the man a couple of weeks ago before you were transferred to the school, and despite the comforting vibe the man had, you still felt like you owed him some sort of respect.
Something the two guys bickering with their teacher seemed to lack. Or maybe it was just an act.
Yaga gives the two guys a comical smack to the back of their heads and you hear Shoko snicker next to you. You fight back a smile of your own, until you feel Shoko pat your back, almost in reassurance.
“You can laugh, they won’t be offended.” You relax at this, and before you could even say anything in response, Yaga is clearing his throat to get your attention.
“You can introduce yourself,” oh, he’s talking to me. You’re suddenly aware of the three pairs of eyes fixated on you, and you fidget nervously.
“Hello, my name is (name) and I’m—“
“That’s boring!” The white haired male cuts you off, and your eye twitches. Well, that’s offensive. Before you could even glare at him, he’s approaching you while taking off his sunglasses and your heart stills at the sight. Those eyes felt like they were staring into your soul.
“Show us your technique, that’s a much more interesting way to introduce yourself,” your body relaxes at this, and you can see Yaga signaling you to go along with what your classmate was saying.
“Oh, okay then,”
Suguru’s eyes are cat-like as they fixate on you. You get in position to show off your technique and suddenly, everything goes quiet. He could feel the energy shift when you stepped away from them, and so he was anticipating a big show. Perhaps, you were a show-off like Gojo.
Suddenly, the air feels a little different—why is it wet? He touches his skin to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and before he could even process things, fog had engulfed him entirely. This was new.
You were nowhere to be seen, maybe that was your technique—a little weak, Suguru thought. But it felt like you read his mind because right in front of him was standing a carbon copy of himself. A clone.
“What the—“ The clone stands still as Suguru gets into a fighting position, ready to unleash a weak curse at it, but the clone is quick to do the same and releases a different curse—the clone knew about his technique?
Before things could escalate further, he heard a snap of fingers from behind him and his eyes widen when the fog and the clone both disappear at once. You were standing right behind him. Being so focused on the fact that what was standing in front of Suguru was a literal doppelganger, he failed to notice you sneak up behind him. He assumed that you snapping your fingers was to deactivate your technique, but it was also a realization that you made him so unaware of his surroundings—and that was the beauty of your technique.
Everyone looks amused by Suguru’s confused expression. He was staring you right in the eye, and your confidence and the relaxed expression painting your face would normally sned shivers down anyone’s spine. It was awkwardly silent for a few moments before Gojo decides to break the silence.
“That was rather impressive, wasn’t it?” Shoko agrees with her classmate, clapping almost ceremoniously. Yaga steps away from the two to approach you and Suguru who was still staring at you, this time with less resentfulness. Sure, he hated having someone sneak up behind him. And the fact that you had chosen him out of the three felt a little strange, but he tried not to overthink it.
Maybe it’s because I looked like a bitch.
He immediately brushes off the thought when you flash him an unapologetic smile, the confidence you gave off a few moments ago replaced with something he couldn’t quite decipher—were you getting shy?
His lips part almost in shock at the way your cheeks are slightly pink, and you take two steps back and away from him before apologizing out loud.
“Sorry, I just thought you looked a little bored.”
Oh, not anymore.
“That to you, is a Grade 1 sorcerer.” Yaga announces very proudly. Usually, Grade S sorcerers would be the one to be introduced like this—with so much pleasure and honor. But Yaga didn’t care about that. He saw potential in you and embraced it like you were his top student.
Geto couldn’t shake off the giddy feeling in his chest. He watched as Satoru came over to your side and ruffles your hair, promising that you were going to have a good time at school because he was there. And you played along, the playful expression you wore on your face not matching the blush on your cheeks—you were just easily flustered having this much attention on you.
“What do you say, Suguru?” He snaps out of his thoughts at the mention of his name, and he finds his best friend staring at him with those eyes. He caught him looking at you, didn’t he?
“Sorry, I zoned out.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he wasn’t going to say that you seemed so interesting that he found himself so lost in his thoughts. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like how you seemed so unaware of the fact that you were breaking down his walls one by one, and all of this happening in less than an hour of meeting you? Unbelievable.
“I said, we are all gonna get along so well, right?” Glancing at you, he notices how you seem to shift your attention back to him the moment his name is mentioned. You’re almost eager to find out what he has to say next, sparkly eyes and a tight lipped smile making you look so fucking adorable—oh fuck, no.
“Yeah, we will.��
He was officially and totally fucked.
--
It’s been a few months since you officially transferred to Jujutsu high, and things were going great. You felt like you fit in so perfectly, you were a bit nervous that you would be a burden since the trio seemed to have a dynamic of their own, being the one to ruin the dynamic—or worse, feel left out would just be the highlight of your school year. But they were so nice. Each in their own way.
While Gojo felt like a troublesome sibling with his many pranks and jokes, Shoko truly felt like a close friend. You could crack jokes with her, share food and even watch movies during the weekend. The friendship you shared with both seemed very genuine and you were so grateful for that.
And then there was Geto.
Suguru Geto, tall and handsome, with long dark luscious hair and cat-like eyes. A smile that seemed precious since it appeared way less than you would want. A voice that felt like he was purring in your ear and a personality that had your heart stuttering in your chest.
He had caught your eye the moment you saw him walk on the school grounds. You tried not to make your tiny crush on the man obvious right away, but it felt like you blew your cover when you chose him as your target when asked to show off your technique.
Things weren’t exactly bad between you and the tall male, but they weren’t that good either. There an awkwardness that always lingered when you were both left alone, your heart would beat so fast and so incessantly when you felt his eyes on you before he places a piece of his chocolate on your desk.
“Was gonna share it with Satoru, but he pissed me off today.” You’re almost shocked that he’s even addressing you when neither Shoko nor Satoru were in the classroom.
“Are you sure? He does like sweets,” you still grab the sweet treat and place it in your mouth, to which he chuckles at.
“Well, you ate it immediately. Seems like you don’t care.”
“Well, he did piss me off too today,” you’re grinning, playing with the wrap of the chocolate. Suguru raises his eyebrows at your remark and continues to tease you.
“Was it another joke about how bad his clone was? I mean he’s not entirely wrong—“
“Stooop,” you groan out, resting your head on your desk in defeat. You were too embarrassed about the recent incident, and no one seemed to want to let go of it.
Rather than being embarrassed that his clone was that ugly, Gojo’s sudden and quick realization that your clones had an immediate link to your photographic memory lit up a bulb at the top of his head. And so the teasing began.
How come Suguru’s was so accurate on day one!
Do you have something to share with the class?
It was horrible, and you remember how Yaga had to smack the white haired male in the back of his head to get him to stop. He caught onto your little crush on Suguru faster than you had anticipated, but you were glad that when asked what he was teasing you about, Satoru chose to save you the embarrassment and just say that his clone was so ugly, you needed more practice.
“I just need more practice,” you say, a little muffled from having your face in your arm. Suguru stares at you for a few moments from his seat, then he suddenly gets up and walks towards you. He crouches down in front of your desk and you quickly raise your head in question.
“Hm?”
“You don’t hate me, right?” He could’ve asked that question from his desk, he knows that. But it would’ve seemed a little cowardly cause he knows he would avoid looking you in the eyes. But eye contact was important when communicating things, and right now was one of the few moments where Suguru felt like he was going to pee his pants waiting for an answer.
“Hate you?”
“I’m aware that hate is a big word—it’s a strong feeling too, but I just need to know if you feel that way about me.” Suguru was supposed to feel stupid, maybe a little insane for asking you something like this. But he noticed how things always got quiet when it was just you two alone. It didn’t necessarily mean you hated him, but a part of him wanted to make sure you didn’t resent him for mysterious reasons.
“I don’t hate you,” you pause your words, and Suguru watches as your face slightly reddens as you avoid his eyes. “Uh, just nervous.”
Now, why did I say that? It’s one thing to know that he makes you feel this way, but it’s another when you fully admit it to him and watch as he raises both of his eyebrows, almost in shock.
“Nervous?” At first, he’s scared that the word has a bitter taste to it—but it slowly dissipates when he sees the blush on your face darken because why did he have to say it like that.
It sounded like he was saying it for the first time, carefully tasting each letter and syllable. You felt nervous around Suguru.
“You are kind of intimidating,” the small smile painting your lips eases Suguru’s nerves despite having another word describe him. But he’s heard this one before. In fact, he likes it. He likes the way it makes him feel, the ego boost it gives him when he sees people quiver in his presence.
But he didn’t want to have this kind of effect on you. You didn’t need to fear him or avoid his eyes for him to know that he was a powerful sorcerer—he wanted you to feel safe with him. He wanted to rid you of any problem weighing you down, have that smile on your lips for a long time. Whatever Suguru felt for you, he was coming to terms with it and accepting it.
Slowly that is.
“If I’m intimidating, then is Yaga like a monster to you?” Suguru teases you back, and he stands up from his crouching position. He stares down at you with a grin, his sharp eyes making eye contact with your own bright ones. A contrast like this looked so endearing.
“Yes.” You don’t hesitate as you reply, and Geto immediately bursts into laughter at this.
“Wow, you didn’t even hesitate.” Wow, I made him laugh.
“But he is scary! I mean, he’s very nice… but I don’t think I’d wanna piss him off like Gojo does,” you mumble the last part, but Suguru hears you loud and clear.
“Satoru pisses off everyone, so you’re safe.”
Having a conversation like this with Geto felt nice. It wasn’t that often that you two chatted or even had the time to sit down and give each other normal classmate updates. So to be able to talk to him like this, make him laugh until his stomach hurts before walking to your dorms felt new. But you weren’t complaining.  
--
Over the last few months, you’ve gone on a couple of missions with both Suguru and Satoru. They were all successful, and you always got done with them in half of the time.
But today was different. You were going on a mission with Suguru.
Yaga mentioned how you both seemed to work really well together, and while Suguru might’ve been stronger than you, you had so much potential that couldn’t get wasted. Suguru seemed like the perfect fit for a partner and a sort of mentor.
The mission was going to take place in another city, which is why you find yourself on the train with the tall male who was trying to get some sleep.
Sitting across from each other, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the guy. He looked too good from this angle, you could feel your body tingling in embarrassment.
The guy’s just trying to sleep
Over the last few months, no matter how hard you tried to brush your feelings for Suguru, they resurfaced not only a day later when he did something that would make your heart stutter in your chest. You remember him making you food when you were sick, giving you his scarf when you got too cold, suggesting to style your hair for you—how could you not fall for him?
But you were terrified of rejection. You were scared that those feelings could potentially ruin the friendship between you two, and God knows how horrible that would make you feel.
“We’re there,” you were so lost in your thought, that you didn’t feel the train stop. Only Suguru’s hand on your shoulder was able to snap you out of it.
“Oh sorry,” you stand up and make your way out of the train with Suguru following close behind.
“Did you manage to get some sleep?” He asks from behind you, and you slow down your pace to match his footsteps before shaking your head.
“Not really, I wasn’t that tired.”
“Oh but you will be after the mission, that’s always how it is.” He was referring to the many times you and Gojo would end up falling asleep on each other on the way back home, and he would secretly take pictures of the white haired male drooling on your hair to show it to you when you both wake up.
“Thank god he’s not here to drool on my hair,” you say with a hint of annoyance, but it’s harmless.
“Oh, you never know,” the playfulness to his voice makes you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face gives away that you were anything but annoyed.
You arrive to said location after ten minutes of walking. And at first sight, it seemed like any normal abandoned building; a little creepy, no color painting its exterior and most importantly lifeless. But the smell—god, the gut wrenching smell that came from it made you cringe.
“God, it smells horrible.”
“Then we’re at the right place.” Suguru is the first one to walk in, and you follow close after. You take careful steps, eyes darting around the area to scan it for any clues.
“I have a horrible feeling about this,” you mumble to yourself. You knew you were sent to this place to find the source of its gloominess, but the farther you walked down the hallway, the tighter your stomach got.
“It was an orphanage.” Your heart sinks at the revelation, watching the old toys scattered on the floor, filled with dirt and dust. You could only imagine what happened to the kids.
The room is silent for a few moments before both of you and Suguru stand still. Almost on guard.
“Do you feel it?”
“Yeah, I do.” Whatever took over this place was huge. It didn’t necessarily feel like a strong or dangerous curse, but the way it was staring at you from down the hall had you standing in a fighting position.
Before you could even process the fact that you were dealing with that big curse, it charges at you—and fast.
It’s too fast for its size!
Mist engulfs the creature almost immediately, it would only serve as a distraction for a little bit before it would rage even more and decide to charge at you.
“Go hide, I’ll take care of it.” You watch as Suguru calls in two of his powerful curses, both enough to do the job. But you don’t want that.
You don’t want him to do the job on his own, or worse hide while he does everything. It wasn’t why you became a sorcerer, why you chose to even join the school. And so you stood still, grabbing one of the daggers attached to your thigh. You ignore Suguru’s cries telling you to step away from the huge curse.
“You’re gonna get killed if you don’t move!”
“Shut up!” The mist slowly morphs into something else—something Suguru has never seen you done before. It shapes itself into a beautiful scenery, one where flowers are blooming and the sun is shining and—he was hallucinating.
And so was the curse. The technique might’ve not been the most powerful, but it still managed to blind the curse for a few moments. You fill your sharp dagger with cursed energy before slicing it open in one swift motion. It’s messy and sloppy, and blood covers your clothes and the floor like a paint. You stand still and stare in awe at what you’ve just done.
I killed a huge curse on my own!
What you fail to see is the multiple cuts on your body, and how all color leaves your face as exhaustion washes over you. Shit, you were passing out.
The last thing you remember hearing is Suguru calling your name before everything goes silent.
--
Suguru is a mess. That was the only word that could accurately describe the state of the poor guy as he paced back and forth in front of your dorm room. No matter how much Gojo tried to convince him that you were okay, he refused to budge.
He was mad at you. You were so reckless back there, refused to listen to him when he asked you to move—he was filled with all kinds of emotions.
And so when Yaga finally gives him the green light to visit you, the first thing he does is scold you.
You’re sitting up in your bed with bandages wrapped around your body, and you look so tired. But despite all of that, you still manage to flash him a warm smile when he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him.
“Yaga told me I was passed out for two days, I hope I didn’t worry you—“
“What you did was reckless.” Suguru cuts you off, voice sharp and cold that you flinch. Your eyes stare at your lap, avoiding his because he was right. You were reckless, refused to listen to him and powered up your technique faster than your body could handle.
“I know,” you don’t apologize. A part of you wants to, but you were still going to stand your ground if he tried to guilt trip you about the situation.
“And I was very mad,”
“I know.”
It’s silent for a few moments, and Suguru takes in how despite the tears blurring your vision, you refuse to give in and apologize about anything.
“But that’s only because you scared me to death,” he hears you sniffle, and he sees you blink away the tears before staring at him in shock. Suguru takes a few steps towards you, and for a moment you see the hesitation in his action. He quickly brushes it off as he gently rests his hand on your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.
“You have no idea how terrifying that was.” Your heart starts racing at his words, and his touch left a tingling feeling behind when he pulled away to pat your head.
“I don’t want you to do that again, but I gotta admit,” he ruffles your hair, the scowl on his face morphing into a soft expression.
“That was really cool,” your smile is on your lips almost immediately at his words, and you take your hand and wrap it around his wrist. You pull his hand down and place it again on your face, a bold move that has the both of you slightly blushing.
“You think I’m cool?” your voice sounds sweet when you ask the question, and Suguru thinks he’s never heard you sound like this before but he nods anyway.
“The coolest.”
Neither of you move or say a thing after this, but the prolonged eye contact had the tall male leaning down a bit hesitantly at first, making sure you were okay with it. So when you pull him closer and place your lips on top of his, Suguru is convinced that it was the right thing to do.
The kiss is short and sweet. You pull away after a few seconds and the blush on your cheeks spreads across your entire face when he leans in to give you another kiss. Then another and another.
“Sugu—“
“Shhh, you look cute when you’re flustered.”
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2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.
6K notes · View notes
kafkasmuses · 9 days
Text
KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons. 
tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader) 
a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs
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thirty minutes ago. 
art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you. 
art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time. 
“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.” 
ahem. 
you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression. 
you blink at him, once, twice. 
a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.” 
it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him. 
and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better. 
you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“  
“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.
he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint. 
your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement. 
maybe silence will earn points back from your coach. 
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
silence did not earn anything. 
art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up. 
the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.” 
“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it. 
if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first. 
he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?” 
“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.” 
art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing. 
to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.” 
you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back. 
smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.” 
he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?” 
ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him. 
and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?” 
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
art said he forgave you, right? 
ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.” 
“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you. 
“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind. 
“whatever helps,” you remark. 
“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle. 
once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.” 
eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable. 
“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?” 
you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.” 
“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.” 
“with tennis?” 
“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.” 
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you. 
“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds. 
yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really. 
“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet. 
he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors. 
“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before. 
“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually. 
“like your wife?” 
“like you.” 
art corrected you. 
he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well. 
the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe. 
at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose. 
“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty? 
gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy. 
“what?” you frown, confused. 
“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing. 
“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple. 
“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?” 
“what do you mean?” 
art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“ 
“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours. 
“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..” 
“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.” 
“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now. 
“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?” 
you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you. 
when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying. 
he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.” 
“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin. 
he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.” 
“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to. 
“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath. 
“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness. 
“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?” 
“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part. 
“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.” 
he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks. 
soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him. 
he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance. 
“ready?” he hushes out. 
“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it���s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already. 
“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more. 
his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well. 
sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas. 
“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches. 
in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm. 
he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.” 
2K notes · View notes
rafesaddiction · 7 months
Text
Hole Practice (or: Golf Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: You want to learn how to golf better. Rafe teaches you a different kind of lesson. Rafe's pov
Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, sorta toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spanking, rough sex, fingering, anal (first time), oral (rafe receiving), p in v, cream pie, degrading (reader is called whore by rafe), daddy kink, mean!rafe, bratty!reader, dom!rafe
Word count: 4.3k
“Hey, ain't that your girl, Rafe?”
“What?” Rafe put down the bottle of water he was drinking from and looked at Topper, then his gaze wandered to where Topper was pointing at.
“Over there. The one that is holding up everyone at hole 9.”
“Fucking hell,” Rafe grumbled under his breath when he spotted you. Several hundred yards away, there you stood with a golf club in hand, bending down to place the ball on the ground.
“She got a terrible swing but a real nice ass, real nice.” Kelce snickered and Rafe's head spun round, glaring at him.
Kelce defensively lifted his hands and slowly walked backwards. “Hey dude, chill. I'm just saying those shorts suit her nicely, just paying compliments. Respectfully.”
Rafe tossed the water bottle away, clenching his fists, stomping forward, every muscle in his body tensed up. He was frowning as he felt hot rage coursing through his veins. Rafe was about to beat the living shit out of one of his best friends when a sound made him stop and turn your way again. The wind had carried the sound of your laughter over to him. And Rafe watched you giggle and joke around with some guy, your caddie from the looks of it.
Rafe's hands balled into fists as he watched the two of you talk. That guy had put down the golf bag he was carrying for you and stepped closer. Stepped very close. Too close. He stood behind you, directly behind you, with your ass only covered by those ridiculously tiny shorts pressing against his crotch as his arms wrapped around you, his hands on yours, holding the golf club.
Rafe let out an angry scream that wasn't even a real curse and ran over to the golf cart, got in and started driving over the hilly course towards you.
“Yeah, man, take the fucking cart, so we have to walk!” Topper yelled behind Rafe, but Rafe didn't even bother to turn around. “Fucking unbelievable,” were the last words he heard from Topper, and Kelce's snickering in response. Rafe's hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles showing white on his right hand, his other hand coverd by his golf glove.
He drove at full speed, which wasn't that fast with this damn golf cart, but at least faster than running. Racing over the greens, he didn't pay attention whether he was interrupting other people's games. His gaze was fixed on you and that fucking caddie that was practically dry humping you on the golf course.
The cart came to a halt close to you, Rafe jumped off, took a club from the bag at the back and stormed towards you and the caddie, raising the club, fuming with rage.
You and the caddie turned, looking at Rafe stunned and shocked. While you opened your mouth to say something to Rafe, the caddie muttered a curse, his eyes widened as he saw Rafe with the golf club swinging at him. The guy quickly pushed you out of the way, so you fell on the ground, landing on the grass, while he ran, ran as fast as he could with a yelling Rafe chasing him. And Rafe would've gotten him, would have beaten him to death, if it wasn't for your whining noises that made him stop and turn, lower his golf club and walk back to you.
Rafe was towering you, casting his long shadow over you, as you were sitting on the ground, rubbing your ass on which you obviously had fallen, looking up at your tall boyfriend with large eyes.
“I'm hurt,” you mouthed and sniffled.
Rafe grunted, reached down and picked you up. With so much vigor that you practically crashed against his chest. Bracing yourself, your hands touched Rafe's heaving chest, felt those tense muscles underneath the fabric of his expensive polo shirt. You looked up at him with big eyes. He clenched his jaws and his large hands gripped your hips as he held you close. He was still fuming with rage.
“What the hell were you doing?”
You lowered your head, then looked up, with just your eyes.
“I was just practicing holes.”
Rafe's eyebrows raised and he almost choked.
“You what?”
Your eyes went to his chest and your finger was idly drawing circles on Rafe's shirt. You shrugged and innocently explained, “I’m taking some practice lessons. I wanted to get better at golf, so that you would take me with you when you and the boys play.”
You stopped your drawings on Rafe's chest and looked up at him with pouty lips.
“Are you mad at me?”
Instead of answering, Rafe growled and frowned.
You smirked at him, you cocky little brat.
“What are you wearing anyway? Every bastard on this course is staring at your ass.”
“Don't you like my golf outfit, Rafey?” You knew he hated it when you called him that and you did it anyway. His jaws clenched.
You wore a collared blue shirt but instead of a matching skirt or proper golf shorts, you wore the tiniest shorts possible, tightly snugging your curves, barely covering your panties.
“This is no proper outfit for golfing. Those shorts scream ‘fuck me'.”
Rafe's right hand slapped hard on your exposed ass cheek, surely leaving his hand print.
You flinched and winced, then pouted, and struggled to free yourself from Rafe’s grip, but he was stronger and pulled you closer and slapped your ass again. His palm tingled, and from the look on your face, your cheek must be burning.
His fingers grabbed your chin to lift your face as he leaned down.
“I’m gonna teach you holes now,” he whispered, darkly, close to your lips.
Your cheeks flushed. He grinned devilishly. With all your bratty behavior and cockiness, Rafe was still able to make you blush. His mouth claimed yours in a hungry kiss, tongue pushing in, he took what was his, as he held your body close.
When he let go, your cheeks were still flushed, your lips swollen and you were slightly out of breath.
“Since you have chased my caddie away, you will have to carry my golf bag,” you announced and turned to look for your ball.
Rafe grumbled but shouldered the damn golf bag and followed you.
“Where's that damn thing anyway?” He asked when he had caught up with you.
“There,” you pointed at the gorse.
Rafe exhaled. “We're not getting it out of there. Just take a new one.”
“No, that would be cheating, I'm gonna get it.”
“Y/n, fucking don't!”
But you ignored his words and stomped onwards, right into the gorse – and with every step you took, your ass was bouncing invitingly.
“Fuck's sake,” Rafe grumbled and followed you.
He found you bent over, legs straight, head down, ass up, hands touching the high grass, looking for your ball.
Rafe's own balls tightened at the sight. That perky ass, those tiny shorts hardly covering anything, that red mark on your bare skin – he had been correct, his hand print was showing.
His growl made you turn your head at him, but not lift your upper body.
“I think I've found it, but it's stuck.”
Rafe grumbled, walked closer. Walking with his dick getting harder was damn uncomfortable.
“Fuck's sake,” he repeated.
“What?” You asked innocently, wriggling your fine ass.
“Enough,” Rafe barked and you flinched at his harsh tone.
Before you could get up, he grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and his hand smacked your ass several times, making you mewl. Rafe carried you out of the gorse, over the greens to the golf cart.
“Ouch,” you mouthed and pulled a face as you were seated on your ass, sore from his spanking.
He got in the cart, sat behind the steering wheel and shot you a sideways glance. His eyes narrowed.
“Stop complaining, that was nothing yet.”
“Where are we going?” You sniffled.
“To the club,” he stated tersely. He knew he wouldn't make it back home to Tanny Hill, with his dick already achingly hard. A room at the club would do, and he knew there would always be one available – the perks of being a premium member.
“But what about my lessons?” You looked at Rafe, sulking.
“Oh, your lessons ain't over yet.”
He could see you nibbling at your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous or excited or both.
While he was driving across the course, he tried to look where he was going, but you kept on wriggling in your seat, which was fucking irritating.
“Stop that!” He faced you briefly and lifted his hand, a warning gesture.
“Sorry, daddy,” you said sweetly, leaned forward, and your mouth covered Rafe's finger. Sucking on it, you looked at him with large eyes, your lips closed tightly around the digit, your tongue swirling around it.
“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Rafe almost ran over some gaffer – not that he would've cared.
Rafe tried to get back on track while his cock was pulsing. You took his hand, guided it between your legs, rubbing over your thighs as you spread them. His hand touched the fabric of those damn shorts, and Rafe could feel that you were already soaking wet, those layers of clothing couldn't even hide that.
You began moaning as you were rubbing his hand against your core.
He pulled it away, raised it, finger pointing, and glared at you angrily.
“Don't!”
You pouted, crossed your arms in front of your chest and looked away. But Rafe grabbed your jaw forcefully, turning your face to look at him, pressing harder than necessary, which made you wince and gaze at him.
“You don't touch yourself unless I allow you. You know the rules.”
He kept his eyes on you while still driving.
“You hear me?” His voice loud and intimidating.
You cast your eyes down and mumbled, “Yes, daddy.”
His cock twitched in his pants, which were getting too damn tight by now.
When he let go, you added, hardly audible, “But I didn't touch myself, it was your hand…”
You probably thought that he didn't hear that as he didn't react to it right away, but he did hear it, and it drove him fucking insane. And you would experience soon enough how mad he was because of you.
Rafe parked the golf cart close to entrance of the main building, got out, grabbed your arm, so hard he would leave bruises, and dragged you along with him. You could hardly keep up, he was walking so quickly, and with his tall legs, he was able to make longer strides.
At the reception no one questioned why Rafe was holding you in such a tight grip while you were obviously struggling to escape. He asked for the key card to a room and he got it and on top of that, the receptionist wished him a pleasant day. Rafe growled in response.
He shoved you towards the elevator and got inside with you. It cost him a lot not to ravish you the moment the doors closed. The grip around your arm was iron. When the doors opened, he pushed you out, along the corridor to the room. After opening it with the key card, he forcefully pushed you inside. You stumbled and almost fell, but caught yourself on the edge of the king-size bed.
Right after he had let go off you, he started to undress himself, pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes.
“Take off those goddamn shorts and get on the bed. Now.” His commanding voice left you no choice but to obey. You looked at him, eyes wandering over his naked body as you undressed yourself, taking the shorts together with the panties off last. He frowned at you, but your eyes were on his rock hard cock that he was stroking, while glaring at you.
You climbed onto the bed. Impatiently, he walked over and grabbed you, moved you around as he wanted to have you, flipping you over, then pulling your body up, so you were on all fours now, while he kneeled behind your spread legs.
Rafe leaned over your body, his chest touching your back, his hand grabbed your throat, forcing your head up, a restrained sound coming from your opened mouth.
“You gonna be a good whore, right?” He cooed into your ear.
With his free hand, he guided his hard length between your legs, rubbing it along your dripping wet slit, covering it nicely in your juices. You mewled and started wriggling.
“Please,” you moaned, already so needy.
He turned your face to shut those desperate moans with his greedy kiss, while his cock was replaced by his fingers, which where rubbing along your slit, parting your folds, but never quite entering and never touching your clit. You were so incredibly wet, his fingers were practically dripping as he pulled them away and sat up behind you, letting go off your throat, leaving you with a confused look on your face.
“I still need to teach you a lesson.”
You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but Rafe continued, a sardonic grin on his face.
“The lesson is: If you wear such tiny shorts, hardly covering your ass, but showing it off, inviting everyone to fuck it, you get fucked up the ass, like the whore you are.”
“But –” you started to complain, but a slap of his hand on your ass made you cry out instead.
Despite it being such a fine piece of flesh, Rafe had never fucked your ass before, only put a finger or two inside your tight hole once or twice. You didn't have proper training yet, but you needed to learn that your teasing had consequences.
He spat on his already wet fingers and stroked between your ass cheeks. You whined, but he knew that it was a sound you made when you were impatient. You wouldn't have to wait long – though it wasn't what you actually waited for, he knew that. Rafe gripped you by the hip, as his fingers pushed against your back entrance. Your muscle was tense and instead of opening up for him, it closed. Rafe growled and he felt your body shudder. His grip got firmer, preventing you from retreating as his index finger pushed inside, stretching your tight ring.
“It hurts, daddy,” you whined and craned your neck to look back at Rafe.
He slowly moved his finger back and forth inside you. Your breathing hitched as he curled that finger in your tight hole. Your muscle was clenching so hard around his digit, it almost made it impossible to move it.
He let go off your hip to hit your ass cheek.
“Relax! Or it'll just hurt more.”
Your answer was a whining sound and you let your head hang between your shoulders.
Rafe pushed your legs further apart to get better access, pressed on your lower back and you obeyed by arching your back nicely. He grinned at the sight. You were completely exposed to him and at his mercy.
He pulled his finger out, only to push back in two fingers, thrusting deep and hard.
You let out a scream and started begging.
“Daddy, daddy, please,” you whined.
His fingers fucking your ass, he let his hard cock teasingly brush along your pussy, never applying too much pressure, just enough to tease you. When he pulled back, his cock was covered in your wetness.
“So wet for me. Such a needy whore you are.”
His fingers left your hole, the tight muscle pulsing invitingly. He rubbed some more spit on it and felt you shiver under his touch.
He took his cock in his hand, guiding it, stroking your round ass cheeks with it, before pressing the wet tip against your throbbing little hole.
“You gonna take it like the good whore you are, hm? Your my little whore, right?”
You mewled and panted.
He waited.
“Daddy, daddy,” you whined.
Then he heard you inhale and exhale deeply, pushing your ass up, that little hole twitched and opened up, inviting him in, and he pushed in.
You cried out as his cock's thick head stretched your tender muscle. He needed both his hands now to grip your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place, as he greedily watched his thick cock slowly pushing into your fine ass.
Your screaming turned into an irregular whimpering as the thick head was practically sucked into your ass.
“So, good,” Rafe praised you, his own breathing heavy. “You're doing so good, baby, taking me so good. Such a good whore.”
His thumb caressed your hip, he felt you relax just the tiniest bit. He tensed up, tightened his grip again and thrust his hip forward, making your body almost jump forward by the force, if he hadn't held you that firmly.
He growled as your walls clenched around his cock, but he pushed deeper. Pulling back, he gasped as your sensitive muscle was clamping so hard around his thick cock.
“So good, baby,” he said under heavy breathing.
He pushed in, watching with greedy fascination how his too big cock vanished inch by inch into your perfect ass, stretching your too tight hole mercilessly.
“Daddy! I can't!” You cried out, sobbing now.
“You can and you will.”
He began moving in a steady rhythm, fucking your tight ass good and hard. He didn't push too hard though, knowing well what you could take. You were sobbing and crying and whining, but he didn't stop, he knew your body better than you did, and he knew that you could do this. Your little protests, your screams and moans and whimpers made him only go harder.
He couldn't get it all in though, you were too tight and not trained, and he was too big. Part of him got angry about that, but you felt so damn good, he could use you so damn well that it seemed enough.
Then he saw your hand move between your legs, you were desperately trying to touch yourself. But Rafe didn't let you.
He angrily growled, slapped your ass hard, making you flinch. Then he grabbed your hand by the wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and holding it there.
You cried out in pain.
“I told you not to do that!” He growled between clenched teeth. You were driving him mad, so fucking mad.
Your body shook and trembled under his hard thrusts as he took what was his, took you without mercy. Pounding you harder, his growing anger made him lose all restraint.
You were so tight, the friction was so intense, the sounds you made were so hot, Rafe felt his climax approaching and he didn't hold back. He felt his every muscle tense up, then let go, gasping for air, as he reached his orgasm, shooting his cum into you. His whole body electrified and in that post orgasmic bliss, he pushed again into your well-used hole, once, twice, driving his load deeper into you, before pulling out. When he let go off you, you just face down collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard, a fucking mess. He grinned at the sight of you.
“My whore,” he whispered into your ear, leaning down, kissing your damp hair, before he got up. His own breathing slowing down eventually.
Watching you lie there, and wriggle and pant, he knew you hadn't reached your climax yet.
“Don't you dare move”, his voice a dark command.
He waited for a moment. And this time it seemed you were actually listening, probably fearing the consequences. Had you learned your lesson after all? He doubted that, you were such a brat and would always be. Since you didn't move, just lay there panting, Rafe went into the adjoining bathroom to clean himself.
When he came back, you were lying in the same position on the bed, on your stomach, arms away from your body, legs apart, your body raising and falling from your exhausted breathing, cum dripping out of your hole between your reddened cheeks. Rafe grinned at the sight of the mess he had turned you into.
He sat down on the bed, still naked, back resting against the headboard, his legs on the bed, he was sitting next to you, not touching you, but you could definitely feel the bed tilt from his weight, feel his proximity, as he felt the heat radiating from your body.
You lifted your head, turned your face to gaze at him with teary eyes.
“You're such a mess,” he grinned at you, his hand caressing your face.
“Did you cum?” He asked, but already knew the answer.
You shook your head.
“You wanna cum?”
You nodded eagerly.
“Then you know what to do,” he simply said.
You got up on your knees next to him, sat down on your heels, flinching as they poked into your sore ass cheeks.
“Please daddy can I cum?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.
“And how do you wanna cum?” It wasn't a real question, more of a test.
Still, you seemed to contemplate the answer, biting your bottom lip. Your gaze turned to his cock, though not hard, still impressive. Then your eyes moved to his hands. Those hands that knew how to hold you, to touch you. Then your look was on his face. Yours was a beautiful mess. Your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, your eyes teary and bloodshot, tears and sweat had ruined your makeup and smeared mascara all over your face. God, you were so beautiful.
“With your cock inside me.”
The way you said those words, with such sincerity and almost solemn honesty, it made his cock twitch in response.
But words weren't enough.
“Then work for it.”
In an inviting, almost generous gesture, he pointed at his crotch.
You very willingly accepted the invitation, moved closer, bent over, and Rafe hissed as your greedy little mouth took in his thick cock, sucking hard at it, tongue swirling along the tip. One hand clasping the thick shaft, you steadied yourself with the other hand on his thigh. You gazed sideways up at him, when you began bobbing your head.
Rafe's breathing quickened, as he felt his cock growing in your mouth. His hands clutched the expensive bedsheets, stopping himself from forcing your head down further. You were already gagging on his length, not nearly half of it in your mouth.
Your efforts did some good, but he wasn't ready yet.
He grabbed you by the hair to pull you up, made you whimper, spit dripping from your swollen lips, as you were gazing at him.
“Ride it.”
His command made you freeze and visibly shudder, but you hurried to follow his order. As he let go off your hair, you straddled him, mewling when his thick length pressed against your sensitive core, too long neglected, it seemed.
He gripped your jaws hard, made you focus on him. His piercing eyes glaring at you.
“Don't you dare cum before I’m inside of you. Understood?”
You tried to nod, which was hard with his tight grip at your jaws, but your pleading eyes told him, you had understood him.
“Good.” He leaned forward to kiss you hard, before letting go and leaning back in the pillows.
Your hands ran over his muscular torso. You bit your lips, looking at his hard abs, as you began rocking your hips against him, your tits bouncing nicely. He grabbed them, kneaded them with both his hands, felt how you flinched and tensed up, as you felt his greedy hunger. His cock pulsing under you.
You closed your eyes, as if you would focus on the slick sounds your pussy made when slapping against his hard dick.
“Turn around.” Rafe's voice made your eyes flutter open. “Let me see that ass that you want the whole golf club to fuck. Let me see that ass that only belongs to me.”
Rafe added an encouraging slap on your ass to stress his command. He even helped you to turn, sit down, astride with your back to him, while you did nothing more than make those small needy sounds that drove him insane with lust.
His hand pushed on your upper back, making you bent down a bit, holding onto his legs.
He had the perfect view of your ass and pussy. His cum dripping from your ass mixing with your own wetness dripping from your pussy.
Two fingers dipped into your cunt, making you squirm and mewl and beg.
“Daddy…”
You clenched around his digits and he slapped your ass.
Pulling out his fingers, he lifted you up, pushed you into position, guiding his now rock hard cock to your pussy and pushed in. Rafe grabbed your hair to get you into an upright position again. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his hips rocked hard against yours, pushing his whole length into you as you sank down onto him.
“Rafe, Daddy, fuck,” you stammered, your whole body shuddered and you were completely undone, cumming all over his cock just from his first thrust into you.
And he fucked you through your high, not stopping when you were all spent. Using you over and over again.
You were such a good whore for him. And all your holes were his.
a/n: writing this was a lot of fun. i don't know shit about golf. thanks for reading. i hope you enjoyed it. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, and likes too! i've only been doing this for 2 weeks now and i'm kinda overwhelmed that my first x reader smut fic got over 1k notes! thank you all so much! i got ideas for many more fics. let me know what you'd like to read! p.s. happy kinktober!
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bunnys-kisses · 16 days
Text
jailhouse rock au - brain rot
original post | part one | part two
i love the idea of simon sleeping with your clothes once he gets out. he never had much to remind him of you while on the inside. he kept a few of the photos that you sent, he adored those. but at times he wanted something that smelled like you.
he wanted to press his nose up into your belongings and just melt into them. while he was on good behaviour in prison, he could often get wound up. he was held back by thoughts of you, there was no reason to beat another convict over the head and get put in isolation and an extended sentence. he needed to get home to you, he needed to smell your scent and find comfort in your soft belongings.
when he got out and inserted himself into your life, he started to sleep with one of your sweatshirts. it was a ratty thing from college but your scent was embedded in it. you told him that he could snuggle with it when he took naps in the afternoon.
he was like a dog with his favourite blanket, he adored the thing. even when he had the chance to snuggle up next to you in the evenings, he still had the sweatshirt on hand. he loved it more when you told him you wore the thing to your last exam ever in college.
you found it endearing, that he wanted to be so close to you always. even when you were at work. who knew such a big guy would be a total softie. well, at least he was a softie to you. while on the busy streets of the city, he looked intimidating.
if people had to choose between you or him to talk to, they usually picked you. you were the smaller one with the round face and often smiled. simon was an overprotective guard dog. but when it was the two of you, he was relaxed and wagging his tail (if he had one).
but the sweatshirt served another purpose. he liked when you wore it during sex. it wasn't that he didn't think you were the most beautiful being on earth, but the way it rode up when you rode him teased him. he liked seeing peeks of your body, it edged him as you two had sex.
plus it got more of your scent on it.
when he fucked you on your side, he'd bury his nose into the back collar of the sweatshirt as he did long drags of his cock inside of you. he groaned at the feeling of it against his nose paired with the hot moans that left your mouth.
he loved to just bully his cock into his lover, but not hard enough to break you. but when he found out that you loved a few bruises, he couldn't help but indulge in your fetish. he wanted to make his wife-y feel good.
"that's a good missus." he purred in your ear as the sounds of his hips hitting against your ass got louder. the sound of your slick wet pussy around his cock filled the air as he held you by the hips.
you had the collar of the sweatshirt between your lips to keep you quiet, you already got a noise complaint this month. he when he turned your head to face him, he saw that your spit had gotten all over the collar, staining the heather grey colour to a deeper shade.
he slapped your ass and then held you by your hair. those dark eyes showed shades of a domineering man. even though he worshiped the ground you walked on, he knew that he could rough you up a little in the bedroom.
he could recall all the nights he only had his fist to pleasure himself with. but now he had his little wife, the woman who pulled him out of a bad life. and as his cock pressed against your cervix, he made a vow to make sure that you'd be his forever.
through better or worse, you were going to misses simon riley.
*sweat nervously* <3
1K notes · View notes
themidnightcrimson · 1 month
Text
skirt ࿏ wm
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summary: in which wanda gets a little too handsy during a small party.
words: 4.5k
warnings: top!wanda, fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, severely gay ogling, reader being a fuckin simp
this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni.
masterlist.
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Steve had unfortunately complained to Tony that the parties he always held in his huge, modern, techno mansion were not intimate enough. Tony, always ready to take complaints from Steve with a cheeky attitude, passed the message along to Pepper who decided to truly make something cozier for everyone.
Tony’s parties were pretty much bi-weekly at this point, every other Friday night. The team almost always showed up in entirety, and the regularity of it was becoming sentimental to some of you. Even Tony was starting to plan them: “You guys gotta try this whiskey. I’ll bring it next Friday” or “I swear, Cap, I’m gonna put you in a suit on Friday and shoot you up to Mars.” It was cute.
Tonight, instead of drinking and playing poker around Tony’s in-house bar room, Pepper had set up something beautiful outside. You’d arrived at the party with Nat, stepping through the back patio of Tony’ mansion and seeing something set up in his backyard. Tied between two trees was a large white screen, and several yards in front of it was a projector mounted onto the roof of the patio, pointed right towards the screen.
In front of the screen, on the lush, freshly-trimmed grass yard, was a whole bunch of pillowy chairs with blankets cast over them, set up like little cots. To the side of the arena was a little hot dog stand that also had a big red and golden popcorn machine currently popping popcorn attached to its hip, as well as a large futuristic-looking cooler full of ice and bottled drinks. There was even an attachment on the front of the hot dog stand with an array of candy bars.
Strung above the entire arena were strings of fairy lights going in every direction, tied between trees and the railing of the patio porch. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but they were already turned on, providing cute little lights above the cozy scene. It was the homiest thing you’d ever seen at Tony’s home.
“My god,” Nat remarked as she looked around, looking as shocked as you. “It looks like Tony’s planning on proposing to all of us at the same time tonight.”
“I would say yes,” Banner said, coming up beside you and gawking up at the lights. He ran down the steps of the patio and towards one of the fluffy chairs made of pillow, throwing himself down on it and squishing it to the ground. You could hear his sigh of comfort from the patio.
“Do you guys like it?” Pepper asked, coming out of the house. “There’s more food and snacks inside if you guys want anything that’s not out there.”
“I feel like I’m experiencing my first American sleepover,” Nat said, turning to Pepper. “It’s great, really!”
It was cute seeing Nat get so excited like that. Steve showed up behind Pepper and had the same reaction as everyone else, even tearing up a little bit. When Tony reluctantly entered the patio, Steve gave him a slap on the shoulder. “This is really great, Tony. Really great.”
Tony tightly smiled and quickly went back into the house to avoid any more sentiment.
Since the few of you were the first to arrive, you all stayed on the porch and made conversation while waiting for everyone else to show up. It was a chilly spring night, the wind picking up and every once in a while catching the black skirt you were wearing. It was that annoying time of year, of course, where you would have been sweating during the day but now you were shivering at night. You wished you had worn pants instead of a skirt. You didn’t know you’d be thanking yourself later for the opposite.
You had been discreetly waiting for someone the entire time. As more people lingered through the back door into the backyard, you nervously glanced at each figure and hoped it’d be the one you wanted it to be, but it never was.
And then you knew. You didn’t see her, or hear her name, or any other evidence that she was there other than the fact that the pit in your stomach grew and there was a tingling sensation across your nerve endings. The witch always had that affect on you. You didn’t know if it was a spell or something, or maybe you were just acting like a crush-stricken schoolgirl, but you had a habit of always knowing when Wanda entered a room.
Surely enough, through the tinted windows lining the back porch, you could see a flash of red hair making its way towards the back door, that smile you had memorized greeting people as she stepped between them. A shiver crawled its way up your lower spine as the door opened and that face stepped through, the one you’ve been dreaming about, the one that haunts you, the one that twists your stomach into knots when you see it because it makes you think of all the times you’ve touched yourself with that face in mind.
Wanda stepped onto the porch, her hair in wavy locks down her shoulders. She was wearing a soft, light pink sweater that probably looked like off-white to everyone else in the dusk light, but you paid enough attention to know it was pink. It matched the gentle pink in her cheeks, and in her lips…
You and Wanda’s…”situation” was only just blossoming. After months and months of tense friendship and subtle flirting, you’d finally broken the ice when you’d shared a drunken makeout session at one of the parties. You found Wanda to be much bolder than you’d expected her to be, but it invigorated you so. She knew how to keep you on the edge but give you enough to keep you satisfied. She hadn’t fucked you yet, though she’s gotten close. You’ve felt her mouth, and her thigh, but she hadn’t touched you with her hands yet. Her hands.
It was embarrassing when Nat had to snap you out of it. You’d been staring at Wanda since she’d entered the backyard space and got caught up in a conversation with someone else on her way to greet you. You weren’t even sure if she’d seen you yet, but with how sly the witch was, you were sure she was fully aware of everything.
“Hey, you’ve got a little drool there,” Nat said, motioning to her own chin while looking at yours. You blushed and rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath and turning your back on Wanda. Even though she still hadn’t looked at you, you swore you could feel her eyes burning into your back.
“Shut up,” you whispered, crossing your arms and shivering slightly in the cold.
Like clockwork, you suddenly felt a warm arm wrap itself around your shoulders. God, you even recognized her touch now.
Looking up, you saw Wanda appear beside you, her arm slung over your shoulder and pulling you into her gently. You felt the softness of her sweater and her hair against your arm as you were overcome with her cologne. It was sweet but deep, and it made you melt every time you smelled it because it reminded you of all your moments with her.
Wanda smiled down at you, and you half-expected her to lean down for a kiss, but she didn’t. You weren’t public yet, though Nat knew the extent of it, and everyone else had just assumed. They all thought that if you weren’t fucking, it was at least obvious that Wanda wanted to, and no one would dare get in the way of that. This was all without your knowledge, of course, because you were innocent and naïve and thought that no one had any clue about it except for Nat. That was one thing that Wanda liked about you.
“Hey there,” Wanda smoothly said in almost a whisper. Every time you get close to her for the first time, you feel like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again. Her sparkling green eyes, soft lips turned in a self-assured smile, structured cheekbones, her cute little nose. It all made you swoon like a schoolgirl.
“Hi,” you squeaked, feeling your face get hot all over.
Wanda gave a breathy chuckle, obviously picking up on your little squeak. She gave a little space between you for a moment to let her eyes rake down over your figure. They landed at your hips, and her smile faded, turning almost crooked for a moment before she licked her lips and pursed them. “Hmmmm,” she hummed, pulling you into her again, a little tighter now. “You look so fucking good,” she hissed, leaning down towards your ear. You felt her breath fan against your ear, and then her lips grazed it, before she turned away, stiffening as if trying to hold something in. You watched her jaw flex, the muscles straining in her swan neck as she inhaled deeply.
You weren’t sure what exactly was going through the witch’s mind, but your body was burning all over. It almost pained you how you always had such a physical reaction to Wanda.
Wanda did not let go of you. Even as she lingered around the patio, even as people came up and made conversation, she kept you under her arm like her own pet bunny. You felt safe like that, tucked into Wanda, letting her lead the conversations while you just leaned against her soft sweater and inhaled her sweet perfume. The duality of Wanda’s gentle physique but domineering nature made your head dizzy.
Wanda was like a bee to honey to you for the entire time that you and everyone else waited for the party’s population to be dense enough to start a movie on the large projector screen. Finally, once the sun had set and only left an orange streak at the bottom of the sky, Tony came back out onto the patio and, fully equipped in his suit, stuck his hands out to the side and levitated up towards the projector. Halting mid-air, the face of the suit flipped away to reveal Tony’s face.
“Greetings and welcome to the lamest party Tony Stark has ever thrown,” Tony announced, earning several laughs throughout the small crowd of people before flipping the projector on and flying away.
Light illuminated onto the screen, and an old black-and-white Hollywood movie began playing on the screen. People made their way over to the little cots set out on the lawn, while some stayed on the patio pretending to be the adult part of the crowd.
“Want some snacks?” Wanda whispered in your ear, to which you gave a dumb nod, too focused on the way her hand slid down to your waist and gripped it.
Wanda led you over the little hot dog stand that shone like a beacon in the darkening lawn, apart from the light from the movie. You were about to tell Wanda that you wanted popcorn and Skittles, but she somehow beat you to it. “A bag of popcorn and some Skittles,” she told the guy behind the stand. Nodding, he began to load up a bag of buttery popcorn as you looked up at Wanda in confusion to how she knew what you wanted.
Mind-reading can be useful in many ways, kitten.
You thought Wanda had spoken, since you had heard her voice, but her lips didn’t even move and her voice sounded like it was behind you. Your eyes widened in realization that Wanda was using mind-reading on you for the first time—though it actually was about the hundredth time that she’d pried in on your cerebral. It was the telepathic communication that was happening for the first time, but she thought your confusion on the terms was cute.
“Thanks,” Wanda told the guy as he handed you the warm bag of popcorn. She took a bag of Skittles and two bottles of soda and placed her hand on your lower back, her warm palm ushering you towards a cot in front of the screen.
She decided to choose one a little off to the side, spaced out more from any others. It was a double, basically a large pillow in the shape of a chair that could hold two people.
“This is so fun!” you exclaimed, hopping down on the cot and sighing at how soft it was, understanding now why Banner was so relaxed when he had jumped onto one. There was even a little basket beside the chair that held a large, fluffy blanket folded up. Pepper had truly gone all out.
Wanda plopped down beside you, her warm body instantly melting into yours as her weight into the pillowy chair dipped you down closer to her. The redistribution of weight had moved you in a way that your skirt hiked up your legs.
Wanda’s eyes flickered to your skirt, her pupils swarming. You blushed and pulled your skirt down to cover yourself, discreetly watching Wanda blink and force herself to look away. She leaned back in the chair, snaking her arm behind you and curling it around your waist, which only deepened the blush on your cheeks.
Reaching towards your lap, Wanda took a piece of popcorn from the bag you held between your legs and popped it into her mouth. You took a piece and moved it towards your mouth, but suddenly her hand stopped you.
“Nuh uh,” she said quietly, taking the popcorn from between your fingers. “Let me do it.”
You froze, staring at her face that was so close. It was illuminated by the projection on the screen, her green eyes darker than usual.
“Open your mouth,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips. There was a hunger in her eyes as she watched you hesitate before slowly opening your lips, your heart beating twice faster in your chest. Wanda brought the popcorn to your mouth, letting your tongue take it. You were surprised when, as you felt the texture of the popcorn on your tongue and the butter flooded your taste buds, the tips of Wanda’s fingers lingered in your mouth. As you attempted to close your lips, they only closed around her fingers, tasting the extra salt left behind on them. Your face grew red and hot as you watched Wanda smirk, pushing her fingers in just a miniscule bit further, her own lips parting in infatuation as she watched your lips suction around her fingers.
“Good girl,” she whispered, slowly dragging her fingers out of your mouth.
As if nothing happened, as if you weren’t sitting there blushing and sweating and feeling the space between your legs get warm, she went back to simply eating the popcorn and staring up at the screen.
Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to stop staring at this blasted woman who just teased you so easily and tried to focus on the movie.
Wanda’s handsy-ness wasn’t too extreme during the first half of the movie. It was only her arm around your waist, her hand rubbing your back sensually, her fingers softly combing through your hair and pulling on it hard once or twice just to get a squeak out of you, to which she pressed a discreet kiss to your neck. It was like she was just playing with you. It was like she was just playing with her food.
It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when there was no sight of any sunlight in the dark night sky, that Wanda strengthened her moves on you.
Under the pretty fairy lights, as everyone else started to calm down and really settle into the movie, a chilly night breeze sewed itself through the air. It flittered over your exposed legs, causing you to shiver. Wanda, who’d been trying not to ogle your thighs all night, couldn’t help but see the goosebumps on your tender skin.
“You cold?” she asked in a soft, sweet tone. When you nodded, she reached over to the basket and brought out the large, thick blanket, draping it over the both of your laps. The warm, soft blanket was such a relief to your cold legs, and with Wanda’s body also available to you as a heater, you felt so cozy and safe.
Then Wanda’s hand reached under the blanket and rested on your thigh, her palm curving around it. The action made you stiffen, your skin growing exponentially warmer where her hand touched. The intimacy of the action sent shimmers through you, and you tried to beat back the little smile on your face.
Wanda, on the other hand, was trying not to smirk. She was more purposeful than you gave her credit for, but again, your naivety was what fueled her to see just how much she could get away with.
You were trying your hardest to ignore her hand on your thigh until it suddenly shifted upwards, pushing your skirt up with it. You gasped quietly. Her hand was all the way up your thigh now, gripping your flesh firmly. Her fingers were wrapped into the inner most tender part of your thigh, pressing into the soft skin there.
The heat between your legs amplified with how close Wanda was to it. You couldn’t help but nervously glance around, afraid that somehow someone had seen her hand grab your thigh under the thick blankets. Luckily, no one was looking. The closest person to you was Nat, but she was watching the film with her head tilted and arms crossed, obviously trying to analyze it like she did with most films.
“Wanda,” you whispered, glancing up at her to see that she was already staring at you darkly.
“What, princess?” she asked innocently.
The name struck you like a bullet of white hot fire in the pit of your stomach. She watched you seriously, a smirk twitching the corners of her lips, as she tightened her grip on your thigh. It stung a little, her fingertips digging so hard into that sensitive inner flesh of your thigh, that you almost squeaked.
“If you want to make noises for me, then do it, babygirl,” she lilted, and you almost gasped when her hand slipped fully under your skirt. You squirmed a little, but she looked at you threateningly. “Don’t move.”
Your breathing grew heavy as you looked around again, feeling that for sure someone was looking this time. No one was.
No one will see, detka.
Wanda’s voice was in your head again. You sharply turned to look at her, but she was staring at the screen now.
Suddenly, you felt something under the covers spreading your thighs open. You hadn’t even realized you’d been squeezing them together, but as you looked down at the blanket, you saw a hint of red glaring through it as your legs spread themselves wide open. She was using magic to open you up for her. Out of impulse, you tried to slam them shut, but her magic held you there, the red glare dissipating so as to not draw attention to what was happening beneath the blanket.
Be still.
You bit your lip as you felt Wanda’s hand cup you under your skirt, her palm pressing into your fabric-covered core. Your breath quivered out of both nervousness and pleasure when she found your clit through your panties and slowly rubbed it.
I can feel how wet you are through your panties, princess. Her voice was even husky in your head.
You tried to keep still as Wanda rubbed your sensitive nub, looking around again to see that still no one was looking at you. But the fact that anyone could look over at the wrong moment, see part of Wanda’s arm stretched towards your lap under the blanket, seeing shapes inappropriately moving under the fabric, instilled a sense of fear into you that seemed to propel your desire.
Good girl, just keep being still for me. I know how bad you’ve been wanting this. You’ve dreamed so much of my fingers.
God, how did she know? Had she been spying on you?
Her fingers dipped down your fabric-covered slit, tickling there for a moment and feeling the wet spot forming on your panties. You were soaking by now, you could feel it, and it only got worse when Wanda started to push your panties to the side.
You started to open your mouth to tell her no, that she shouldn’t do that in front of everyone at a party, that anyone could look over and see and that it’d be so embarrassing, but her voice was quick to reprimand you.
So what if someone sees? I’ll let anyone know that you’re all mine.
With that, her fingers successfully slipped under the thin, stretchy fabric of your panties and met your soaking cunt. You heard Wanda let out a tense breath as she seeped her fingers through your sopping folds, her jaw flexing again.
You’re so fucking wet, babygirl. Her voice growled within your head, dizzying you.
You glanced around nervously, almost thinking someone was looking at you, but finding that no one was still. You felt so nervous about it, so paranoid, but your feverishness was mostly just from Wanda’s fingers rubbing your bare clit now, moving your wetness all around.
I’ve been wanting to feel your pretty cunt for so long. You just had to wear this slutty little skirt tonight, hmm?
Heat burned throughout you as Wanda’s fingers moved towards your entrance, circling it. You stiffened a little, not knowing exactly what to expect from her. You had to force yourself to not gyrate against her hand, to not turn to her and beg for her to just do it, to not moan out loud. It was especially hard not to do the last thing when Wanda’s fingers thrusted inside you.
“Oh—” you started, until Wanda’s magic snapped your mouth shut. Wanda went completely still, freezing completely. You took a blushing, nervous glance around and nearly died when your eyes made contact with Nat’s eyes.
You froze like a deer in headlights. Nat was staring at you while Wanda’s fingers were inside you for the first time. You were looking her in the eye while your walls clenched around Wanda. You wanted to set yourself on fire.
Fortunately, Nat only gave a casual little head nod and a smile and then turned back to the movie. You knew Nat well enough to know that she wasn’t just pretending that she didn’t see anything. Luckily for you, she really had not noticed anything unusual other than your usual awkwardness around Wanda.
Close call, princess. You almost got found out for being a slut for me.
Taking a shaky breath, your hand crawled around until it found Wanda’s knee under the blanket and gripped it for dear life as she started thrusting her fingers inside you. You tried not to whine at the stretch—it’d been a while for you.
You’re so fucking tight, baby. Wanda’s voice was breathy in your head.
You threw your head back a little as Wanda’s fingers pumped in and out of you, and you could even hear the faint wet sounds coming from under the blanket. It made you feel so dirty, getting fingered like that in front of everyone, and being so wet for it, too.
I knew you were such a slut for me. What if I rip the blanket off right now, hmm? Expose you for spreading your legs for me even in public like a whore?
Gritting your teeth together, you felt Wanda’s two fingers hitting a sweet spot inside you. It was so hard to not buck your hips, to not squirm or moan or do anything but etch claw marks into Wanda’s knee.
And then you felt a more noticeable stretch. Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt Wanda force a third finger into you. This time you couldn’t help it. You threw your head to the side and buried it in Wanda’s chest, letting out a mix between a quiet moan and a sigh that luckily was muffled by Wanda’s sweater. Keeping as still as possible, you inhaled Wanda’s perfume and scratched the fuck out of her knee as she pumped three fingers inside your cunt at an agonizingly slow speed. You knew she would’ve fucked you a lot harder if it weren’t for the sake of being discreet.
“Wanda,” you murmured into her chest, feeling the valley of her breasts from beneath her sweater cushioning your face. “Wanda, I’m close.”
Her fingers were hitting so deep inside you. They were so long, and she was curling them, and she was hitting your sweet spot deep inside, and you could feel your juices dripping down yourself.
Hold it. She commanded.
You didn’t even realize it, but you clamped your teeth around a chunk of her sweater, biting down hard on the thick cable-knit fabric as the woman’s fingers plundered you at a steady pace. You didn’t even know if anyone was looking at you now, and you didn’t even care because your body was starting to tremble as you struggled to not cum all over her fingers.
Finally, when you begged again, she acquiesced with Cum for me, princess.
It took all of your power to not moan out loud as you orgasmed with Wanda’s fingers lodged deep inside you, your walls spasming around them and your hips trembling. She nuzzled her nose against the top of your head and hissed when you bit down on her sweater again and accidentally bit into her breast. She held you still with her spare arm, her fingers deep in you, as you came down from the blinding high.
“That’s it,” she whispered into your hair. “Good girl, just breathe.” You were breathing very hard to make up for not being able to moan. “You were such a good, quiet girl for me, angel.” The praise landed over you like soft kisses until you realized she was also pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.
It didn’t help that, when you had finally calmed down and Wanda pulled her shiny fingers out of you, she popped them into her mouth and sucked off all of your cum. You blushed and dug your face into her chest again, this time purposefully biting her breast which made her hiss again and then giggle evilly.
Luckily, no one had seen you get fingered by Wanda, at least not to your knowledge. Nothing had ever come out of it, at least, except that Tony spread a rumor that you had peed yourself during the party because when you stood up from the chair at the end of the night, there was a wet spot right under where you had been sitting.
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
Note
Can I please request protective Spencer x BAU!Reader who get "lightly" hurt or put in danger bc SWAT or local police made a mistake, and Spencer goes OFF on them. Hotch or Rossi have to calm him down because no one but the BAU knows theyre dating. I'd love to see protective Spencer if possible :)
no sign of danger | S.R.
when SWAT makes a mistake that puts you in danger, your boyfriend is... displeased
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: bloody nose, concussion, split lip, blood, mild violence. spencer reid says the f word. word count: 1.58k a/n: anon, not to be dramatic but something about writing this changed my brain chemistry. thank you for requesting!!! i hope you like it!
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The time between arriving at a scene and when SWAT cleared the building was almost always intolerable. There were too many variables at play. It made you uneasy.
So, you waited, leaning on the side of an SUV with your Kevlar already strapped on, you turned to look at Hotch, “We’ve got an audience.”
Breadcrumbs that Garcia had picked up led the team to a house in a small town in Arizona. Unfortunately, the FBI garnered a lot of attention, and neighbors were starting to gather around the house. Hotch nodded, “Reid, JJ, work with the locals on crowd control, and make sure no one is recording. The last thing we need is for the news crews to show up.”
You offered Spencer a small smile as he turned to follow the blond to the barrier. He waved behind his back as he walked away.
Chuckling from right next to you got your attention, just to see Morgan shaking his head, “You two have it so bad.”
“I like to think we have it good, actually,” you said, flushing slightly. The teasing came with the territory, dating within the BAU meant never knowing a moment of peace – especially with Derek Morgan around.
There wasn’t an opportunity for him to respond, because as soon as he opened his mouth, your radio buzzed to life in your ear, “Building is clear. No sign of danger.” At the sound of the SWAT commander’s voice, you and Morgan surged forward to enter the building, Emily and Hotch following close behind.
Behind you, Hotch cleared his throat, “Morgan, Y/L/N, take the two rooms in the back, we’ll take the front.”
Nodding at your orders, you and Morgan walked past the staircase and to the opposite end of the house, where the kitchen and the den were. “This place looks like it’s been abandoned,” you thought aloud, dragging your index finger along the kitchen counter, and cringing when it came back covered in dust.
As you wiped your hand on your jeans, you looked up to see Morgan sorting through a vinyl record collection. “You’re right. It doesn’t look like anyone’s even entered this house in years.”
You hummed, opening the first cabinet you saw, wrinkling your nose at the discovery that the house also smelled like it had been abandoned. As you went to close the cabinet, the one below you swung open, the force of the doors almost knocking you to the ground.
Stumbling back, you saw a flash of hands before you were slammed into the refrigerator behind you. Immediately, you dropped to the floor, watching as Morgan tackled the guy and shouted for Hotch and Prentiss.
“We need an ambulance, Y/N’s down,” Emily spoke urgently into her radio while Morgan cuffed your attacker.
You winced at the way the radio buzzed in your ear; the way Emily’s voice echoed combined with the throbbing pain in your head made you nauseous. “What do you mean ‘Y/N’s down’?” Spencer’s voice rang through the radios, prompting you to haphazardly yank the coiled wire from your ear.
Everything sounded like you were underwater, Emily and Hotch asked you questions as the fog cleared from your head, “You’re bleeding,” Emily said, there was a worried look in her eyes.
Hesitantly, you pulled your hand from your face, just to see it covered in blood. You weren’t even sure how long you had been holding your hand to your face. “Can you stand?” Hotch asked you, his tone was concerned, but there was something else buried within it.
Nodding slowly, both of them helped you stand. Emily hooked an arm through yours when you stumbled slightly, she led you out of the house and to the ambulance. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Morgan place his hand atop your attacker’s head, protecting it from the top of the police cruiser.
As soon as you sat down on the back of the ambulance, an EMT handed you a towel to hold to your nose. Your eyes flittered up to see Spencer approaching the ambulance, but to your surprise, he turned at the last moment and faced down the SWAT commander. “What happened in there?” He asked, his tone wholly accusatory.
“It looks like the person of interest was hiding in the kitchen when your team entered,” Commander Polk answered, obviously thinking Spencer was just asking for a sort of status report.
Spencer shook his head, “We’re hunting for a serial killer, and you had the audacity to miss the presence of an entire person?” He asked incredulously, “Did you even clear the kitchen?” He pointed in the direction of the house, where Rossi and JJ were now entering to look around more.
The SWAT commander faltered for a moment, “Someone did, but it wasn’t me personally.”
You winced as the EMT prodded at your face, surmising that your nose wasn’t broken, just bleeding badly as a result of the blunt force of the refrigerator. She pulled your hand from your face so she could inspect for any further damage. You opened your mouth to talk, but the EMT was quick to stop you, “You shouldn’t talk, not until we can look at the cut on your lip.”
While the EMTs got more supplies out, Emily helped you take off your Kevlar vest, undoing the Velcro for you and gently tugging it off. The entire front of it was covered in blood, you winced at the sight of the now-red letters.
“You need to figure out whoever checked the kitchen and make sure they know what they’re doing,” Spencer said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Commander Polk’s demeanor instantly changed, “I assure you, agent, we take training our team very seriously. This was just a mistake.”
Even from this distance, you saw Spencer roll his eyes. “First of all, it’s doctor,” he corrected – at which you rolled your eyes. “Second of all, of course, you take training seriously, it’s mandated by the federal government. This was a mistake, a mistake that ended in the injury of a federal agent,” you looked from Hotch to Spencer, hoping your unit chief would do something before Spencer got punched by the SWAT commander. “SWAT making mistakes gets other law enforcement officers killed,” he continued.
“What’s your point, doctor?” The commander asked.
Spencer cleared his throat, “I’m saying you’re fucking lucky she didn’t get killed, or else-“
“Reid!” Hotch called, stalking over to where your boyfriend was nearly getting into a fistfight with SWAT. He muttered something unintelligible to Polk before dragging Spencer away by the elbow, “What was that?”
Your boyfriend threw his hands up in the air, “He needed to be made aware of their mistake.”
Sternly, your unit chief shook his head, “They are aware, Reid, and I assure you I’m not going to drop it and there will be an internal investigation into what went wrong.” He raised his eyebrows, “That being said, it’s not your job to take care of mistakes made by other people.”
“No,” Spencer agreed, “but it is my job to take care of her,” he said, gesturing over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance.
Hotch pointed around to the locals and other SWAT members, “They don’t know that, Reid.” He whispered, keeping his voice down so he didn’t expose your relationship to everyone in the Arizona town. “Let me take care of it,” was his final statement before he walked back to Commander Polk.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Spencer spun around and finally walked over to you. Emily nodded at you before stepping away, “Are you alright?” He asked.
You flashed him a thumbs up, gesturing toward the EMT, who answered for you, “We just glued the gash on her lip, so she can’t really talk right now. She’ll be fine though, maybe a small scar, if anything.”
“Good,” Spencer said, ambling over and taking a seat next to you. “I was so worried about you,” he murmured, and you watched as he restrained himself from touching you.
Humming, you leaned into him for just a moment. Your movement was intentional, but it was quick enough that any passersby would assume you were just unsteady.
The EMTs left once the glue on your lip dried, directing you to ice it periodically to help with swelling and handing you care instructions.
You were left with a mild concussion, a split lip, and ruined clothes. All things considered, you felt like you were pretty lucky. The rest of the team piled into the SUVs, you and Spencer sitting in the back of one with Hotch at the helm and Emily in the passenger seat. “Who knew Reid had it in him?” Emily wondered aloud, eliciting a small laugh from you.
“I can’t believe you almost got into a physical fight with SWAT over a split lip and concussion,” you said, smiling slightly, but stopping as you felt the glue on your lip tugging.
Spencer rolled his eyes, “It wasn’t over the split lip and concussion, it was over the abhorrent display of-“
“Reid,” Hotch said in his no-nonsense tone.
Your boyfriend slouched back in his seat, “So, maybe it was over the split lip and concussion.”
Closing your eyes, you reached over the middle seat and took his hand in yours, “Thanks, Spence.” You whispered so that only he could hear, leaning over the gap between you and setting your head on his shoulder.
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please remember to like, reblog, and/or comment if you enjoyed!
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love-bitesx · 10 months
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I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈
I have another request
Hobie x fem spider reader
Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.
: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader
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any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie
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“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.
“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.
“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.
“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”
a sigh.
“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”
if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”
“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.
“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.
parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.
years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.
and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.
“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.
“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”
“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”
with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.
sending him a quick text:
‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’
you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.
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“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.
“always.”
with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.
he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.
however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.
his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.
the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.
“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.
“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.
“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”
“i wish, mate,” he sighed.
“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”
"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"
"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.
dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.
"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.
there you were.
standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.
"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.
turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.
"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"
"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.
"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."
"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.
"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."
his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.
"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."
"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.
the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.
"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.
"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"
"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."
he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.
"what is it?"
"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."
silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.
"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"
"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.
"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.
"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.
"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."
"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.
"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."
tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.
"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."
"y/n–"
"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"
his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.
"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.
"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."
watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.
"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"
"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.
"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.
"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."
"oh yeah?" you giggled.
"mhmm."
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clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.
and he'd finally found it.
pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.
silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.
"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"
"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"
"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.
"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"
"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.
"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."
"you don't know what you're talking about."
"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."
before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.
"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."
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rosepascal · 4 months
Text
I'm a feminist obviously || Joel Miller x Reader
I'm a feminist obviously But I wouldn't really mind him savin' me And I know that I'm fine without a man But I think I would like his protection - Prison for Life (Olivia Rodrigo)
Warnings: protective!Joel, he calls you baby girl, reader gets attacked by an asshole guy. Mentions of a fight. Low key dark Joel because he ain't letting that slide. violence, blood, cursing.
a/n: I heard this on tik tok and it just SCREAMS Joel miller sooooo. A good protective Joel fic <3
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The town of Jackson wasn't exactly fond of you and Joel. Let's just say the rumors that started when you first showed up have spread amongst the town members and well, no one cares that they're just rumors.
Safe to say that when you walk through the town center that you aren't just imagining people whispering and staring you down as you walk past them. The only thing you can do is roll your eyes and keep going.
Please, like everyone in this town is free of blood on their hands.
The small general store worker refuses to meet your eyes as you pay for your groceries.
"H-Have a nice day." He says timidly as you stare at him stone faced. At this point you don't even try to change any ones mind. Still at least this kid isn't shooting you a dirty look. You nod and head out the door.
"Is that the Miller's bitch I see." Just your luck. Out of the corner of your eye you see Elijah Davis. Resident Jackson asshole.
Though most people who had a distaste for you and Joel, they stayed out of your way. Elijah was different. He was stupid. See Elijah used to be the big man in Jackson. Self proclaimed best hunter, best shooter. A real tough guy. Always led patrols and that kind of thing really got to his head.
When Joel came around well, they may not like Joel but you can't deny his skills when it comes to survival. Joel brought home the biggest catch, he shot down the most clickers. He saved the most lives and Elijah turned bitter. He just couldn't give it up
"I'm talking to you."
"Fuck off." You hiss at him. You turn so fast he flinches and it makes you smile.
"Seriously, this shit is getting old. Go cry to someone who gives a fuck." On most days he was all bark and no bite but today was different. You feel a harsh tug on your arm as you're pulled into a small side alley. He jams his forearm into your neck and pushes you against a wall.
"I'm getting real sick of you. Acting tough when all you are is Joel millers toy. Bet you keep his bed real warm." He spits angrily. The pressure on your neck gets worse as black dots swarm your vision. You drop your bag and claw his eyes as hard as you can.
"Fuck!" He screams as he lets go of you. Land on your feet but the lack of air causes you to wobble.
"Eat shit." You kick him hard in the side and he tackles you to the ground.
The left side of your face erupts in pain as he punches you hard. He doesn't let up and you do your best to defend yourself the way you learned back in the QZ.
"Hey! What the hell is going on here?" Elijah freezes as he hears the voice of Tommy Miller. Though you've got a bust lip and blood spilling from your mouth you smile.
"You're screwed now." You knee him hard right in the balls and he topples over in pain. Before Tommy could pull you off him you get in one last kick to the jaw.
"That's enough, both of you." He gently pulls you back as someone else pulls Elijah up from the ground. He's still groaning in pain and man is that music to your ears.
"What happened?" Tommy asks as you wipe the blood away from your mouth.
"He attacked me, I defended myself." Though Tommy was Joel's brother he was also Maria's husband and Maria didn't like violence inside the walls of Jackson. She meant business. She even scared Joel a little. You bend down to pick up what's left of your groceries and stuff them in your pockets.
"Look, I know how it goes, I'll pay the fine or work extra hours blah blah, See you Sunday for dinner." Your face aches as you walk.
The only thing you want now is a warm bath and a nap. You don't hear Joel as you walk inside and for once that's a good thing. Ellie appears at the back door ready to show something when her face scrunches up.
"What the fuck happened to you?"
"What?!" You hear Joel's voice come from behind her and you sigh.
"Thanks Ellie." Joel storms in the house.
His eyes frantically looking around until they land on you. Particularly on your fucked up face. His eyes turn dark as he orders Ellie to go outside. She leaves but not before mouthing Good Luck to you. He's like predator the way he walks up to you. His mouth twitching as anger swirls in his eyes.
"Who did this to you?" He gently tips your head up. It scares you how calm he is right now.
"Joel he was just being-"
"He? It was Elijah wasn't it." He growled lowly.
Sighing you know you can't hide it from him forever. He clenches his jaw and leaves to go to the medicine cabinet. With a clean rag he wipes away the dried blood and patches you up as best he can. Unfortunately most of your injuries will just have to heal on its own.
"M'gonna go take a bath." You stretch your arms out and wince slightly as you tilt your neck. Joel clocks it immediately.
"You need anything baby girl?"
"No, I'm okay." He kisses the top of your head and waits for you to go upstairs.
Once he hears the water running he grabs his rifle and leaves. It's like the townspeople can see the steam coming out of his ears. Joel's got a murderous look on his face as he storms through the town.
"Joel!" He glances to see Tommy chasing after him but he doesn't stop. He goes right to the little town hall and storms into Maria's. She looks unamused as he slams the door open.
"Where is he?!" Joel slams his hands on her desk.
"Doctors, pretty beat up and still crying about it." She doesn't even need to ask, she knows why he's here.
"I'm gonna kill em."
"No you aren't."
"If you think-"
"Joel!" Maria stands and stares him down. He's angry, seething with rage at the thought of that punk little shit laying a hand on you.
"I know you're angry, so am I. He's to blame here and he will be punished to the full extent of the law." She says calmly.
"So what? He gets thrown in jail for a couple days? Has to do extra patrols? Give up dessert?"
"I know you're angry, but don't do anything you'll regret. I can't protect you from the law forever Joel." She can't lose Joel, he's a valuable member of the community and he's family.
He clenches his fists and nods his head. Tommy appears and walks out with him. Trying to talk him out of what ever plan he's got brewing in his head. He knows that Joel won't back down that easy.
"He hurt her, I warned him that if he ever touched her he was a dead man." Joel smirks as he passes the doctors. Outside is Elijah bandages all over his face and a scared look in his eyes when he sees Joel.
Count your days motherfucker.
Joel disappears for a week. Out on a supply run alone and god did it make you nervous. He kissed you sweet before he left. Promised he'd come back. His fingers traced your face. Trying to be as gentle as he can around the sore spots.
"I love you." He mumbles quietly, "You know I'd do anything for you." You hum and kiss him again.
"I know," You can handle yourself, you've proved that time and time again you know how to protect yourself.
But with Joel you don't always have to. Knowing he'd burn down anything in his path for you means the world. Because you'd do the same.
You see Elijah once or twice in town while Joel's gone. He's on double patrol duty before his trial. Then he just, disappears. At first you don't notice it but then you hear whispers around town. A patrol went out with 4 and came back with 3.
When Joel comes back you tell him. Elijah's trial was yesterday and he never showed. They went to his room and he wasn't there. All his things were but he wasn't.
He was just, gone.
A few days later Tommy comes knocking on your door.
"Joel here?" You nod and call Joel down.
"It's been a week and no one's found Elijah. So it seems his trial is postponed indefinitely."
"Okay, thanks for coming to tell us." You squeeze Joel's hand and he just stays quiet. Tommy looks at Joel and deep down all three of you know exactly what happened with Elijah. But there's no proof and Tommy isn't going to turn over his own brother.
"Dinner next week?" You ask and he nods.
"I'm sure Maria would love to catch up." When he leaves you turn to Joel.
"Joel...If they ever found out-"
"I don't care."
"I do!" Your voice raises for a second before you stop yourself from shouting.
"Joel I won't let you jeopardize anything for me."
"Well that's too damn bad." He gets up and walks over to you. He cups your face and stares at you with an intensity you've never seen before.
"Baby girl, he hurt you." Joel would risk it all for you. Death, prison, anything. He kisses you gently as to not hurt your still healing lip.
"Nobody messes with my girl."
In a world like this you need to be able to survive, to fight and to make the hard decisions. But sometimes it's exhausting. Constantly protecting yourself wears you down. You know you can but you don't mind the idea of being protected by someone else.
You know you should hate the violence, the fierceness of his actions and words. But you don't. How could you when he's all you ever wanted.
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gatorbites-imagines · 11 months
Note
I finished watching the new spiderverse movie- Im OBBSESED with miles M, Miguel and hobie tbh.
Sooo.. if it’s not a problem, could you write hc’s for either miles m, hobie or Miguel please? :)) it’s fine if you don’t want to, I really do not mind <33
Luv youu <3
Miles Morales, Miguel O’Hara, Hobie Brown
Relationship Headcanons
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How about some relationship headcanons for all of them?
Miles Morales
He’s so sweet when you guys are dating. He doesn’t have much to any experience when it comes to dating, so he’s kinda basing it all off of media he’s watched or read, and from what he’s seen between his parents.
He brings you cheesy gifts on your anniversary, like flowers or those really big teddy bears that’s holding a big plush heart. Hed also go out of his way to get your favorite cake or dessert, and if you don’t like sweets, hed get you something else.
He loves kissing, Miles would do that thing where he lifts one of his legs when you kiss, like in the cartoons. The best way to distract him is to kiss his cheeks or lean over and kiss him on the lips. It always makes him lose his train of thought, and makes him cover his face and giggle.
Miles loves holding your hand, you two can always be caught holding hands in one way. Be it by intertwining your fingers, or just locking pinkies when you walk. Its one of the best ways to help ground Miles when he’s stressed, since just feeling you hold his hand helps him focus on something other than stress.
His parents love you, since you are nice and respectful, and never refer to them by their first names, and you make Miles so happy. They’ve seen how mushy Miles gets, and he almost has hearts above his head when he talks about you, so they’re happy that he’s happy.
Miguel O’Hara
Miguel is a little more subtle and quiet about his love for you. He’s a pretty jaded guy, and has a deep fear of losing you. So, when you guys start dating, he might be kinda standoffish or scared of getting close to you, since he fears he would love you too much or somehow scare you away.
Shows his love in quieter ways, like bringing you your favorite drink or letting you lean against his shoulder when you are tired. It would take a while before he would cuddle you back or kiss you on the lips, but Miguel would always kiss you on the forehead or the top of your head.
Is a little insecure about his fangs or claws, since they come right out of the bottom of his fingers and don’t act like normal claws. When he sees you don’t mind though, it helps lighten the insecurity a bit and after a while hed grow comfortable, and would stop hiding them.
When he feels completely safe and secure in your guy’s relationship, you see a whole new side of him. He’s such a secret cuddlebug its insane. Look at him and tell me he isn’t touch starved. And now that he has you, there will be no way for you to escape his strong arms. Don’t get it mixed up though, he’s the little spoon and cuddled against your chest, not you against his.
He always kisses you like you mean the world and the stars to him, like its gonna be your last. This is because a small part of his brain is still constantly scared he will lose you, or that he’s gonna die on missions. Because of these fears he might need some hugs and kisses after missions.
Hobie Brown
Hobie is an easygoing guy, so he wouldn’t make the biggest thing out of you two dating. So, if you are one for big displays of affection of devotion, he wouldn’t be your guy. He likes to keep his love more subtle and on the quiet side, just for you two and no one else.
Would still bring you small gifts, like his guitar picks or a cool shirt or jacket he made for you. He loves when you wear his clothes and will wear yours too if possible. The moment you agreed to date him you pretty much signed up for him raiding your closet for anything he likes. And he probably looks better wearing it than you ever did too.
Isn’t a mushy guy, but still likes to cuddle as much as the next guy. Doesn’t care about being big or little spoon, just wants to get close to you, especially after a long and stressful day, or if you’ve ever gotten hurt in one way or another. Because dating Hobie would probably end up with you getting hurt every now and then, but dating Hobie also means you know how to defend yourself too.
Hobie is the kind of guy to start wearing a chain with a lock on it when you two get serious, it’s the most visible he is with his love for you. He’s also extremely loyal, no one could even catch a smidge of his attention with you around, so you would never have to worry about him cheating.
Writes songs for you and about you, they can get a little cringy sometimes, but you love them anyways. He would also just make up songs on the spot when you guys are doing stuff. Like about how much he loves your hair, or your outfit, or how you smell good today.
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obscure-entity · 7 months
Note
your shading is AMAZING specially when its conveying organic forms..... do you have any tips for people who dont know wrf going on (with shading)
ok so HI. hi. my old tutorial pisses me off so i will make a new one
i made a guy whose sole purpose is to be shaded so dont worry he likes it. and his name. his name will be mr. Boob. mr boob does not have to be blue
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theres probably way better explanations of how to do it but unfortunately trying to "emulate" shading does ask you to somewhat understand ur character in a 3d way. like what would the 2d shape be if you "sliced" it? mr boob is made of so many circles. his tail also does a kind of weird perspective foreshortening thing because its pointing at you. is this being conveyed
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you obviuously dont have to draw a horrendous grid on your characters skin to do this . BUT it helps you put down (or at least envision) the lines of the form shading :
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dont worry about cast shadows or the shading color because this is FORM SHADOW time only. think about what surfaces of the character are obviously facing away from the light source and put down the "separation line" of the shading based on that. thr most important thing is that youre trying to separate light from dark
im going to pick the first one for cast shadows bc it will be the most obvious to me
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ok so. his ears and snout are blocking other surfaces of his body from the light, which means a shadow is cast!!!! bam. i saw someone describe cast shadows as what the light's pov "can't see." his entire body is putting down a cast shadow on the ground too
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im impatient so i blended the form shadows now. its usually the easiest to just NOT blend cast shadows as a way of conveying that they are still cast shadows. but you can still blend them if you want to show "distance" between the obstruction and the surface its blocking. but its just a way of saying form and cast shadows should not be treated the same even if their softness coincides
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im going to lump reflection and ambient light together because theyre like. similar. reflections dont just happen in mirrors
since the sky is blue, making the ambient lighting, i tinged mr. boobs existing shadow to be a bit blue. (*this is kind of important because it can help you decide a shading color, which should USUALLY be based on the environment) (unless your character is just in the transparent void then it doesnt matter)
since the ground is pink, i made pink light bounce off of him. pointed and labelled. i dont rlly know how to go more in depth than that
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contact shadows are literally shadows formed from direct-touching contact. very little light can reach in there, even from how reflections disperse, which means youre free to use the darkest color available (black). in this case mr. boob is making contact with the floor. because he is sitting on the floor.
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i touched him up a bit and wow!!!!!!!!!! look at mr. boob!!! he is so beautifully sculpted.
and one more thing
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thats right. i made mr boob PINK. hes fucking ruined now. just kidding i would never say that to him
what im trying to convey here (its the easiest with really light colors) is a transitional color. this can also show subsurface scattering depending on how you use it which is fun to look at. the mistake i made on my last tutorial was "Just pick a warm saturated color!" which is really wrong in examples like Blue mr boob. because it would be weird to use a warm color to transition from blue to blue.
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if you have a character that isn't bright enough then obviously the shadows wont be as visible. its BEST to bring more attention to highlights and reflections to reveal the form a bit. they play the biggest role with darker colors
thats all i can think of. fun things to look up:
structuralization + contour lines + foreshortening etc. 3d lingo
form shadows
cast shadows
ambient light
contact shadows
subsurface scattering
im also just speaking out of my ass otherwise. i didnt look up any of these terms until the end now im inferring and hoping i got them right
and remember every time you shade mr boob will be rooting for you
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sluts4matt · 2 months
Text
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BEACH VLOG
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pairing: soft!matt x latina!reader
summary: vlogging a day at the beach with your boyfriend and his brothers is always fun. until matt starts getting handsy and you guys have to go away from the two.
warnings: SMUT, fingering, pet names, tons of praising, public, no actual p in v, fluff tbh
word count: 1079
author's note: i really hope i did your request justice @kscutzzzz, might be the softest thing i've written so far tbh
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"look at this shell," you say to nick who points the vlog camera at you. your body was clad in a black two-piece bathing suit, the fabric hugging your honey-colored skin nicely. matt and chris come up behind the two of you, giggling like morons.
a small grin tugs at your lips feeling matt's arms snake around your waist. your finger traced the tattoos on his left arm. "a shell?" the brunette questions, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "yes, yes," you babble like a child, "a pretty shell."
you turn in the boy's grasp, the camera still recording the two of you. his arms hugged your waist as he looked down at you. you brought the shell in between the two of you, showing it to him with innocent eyes. "see?"
matt nods, "it's beautiful." you grin, leaning up to peck his lips before wiggling out of his grasp and running back to where you got it from. "awe, so cute," chris mocked while nick cooed, the two brothers looking at matt.
"still don't understand how you bagged that at the ripe age of fifteen," chris chuckles, watching you run towards the shore. you had always been a bit weird, never in a bad way though.
the way you giggled at the smallest of things, and the way your voice would change to sounding like a child when you were excited had always made matt's heart flutter. and it still did even after five years.
"she's amazing," matt simply states, watching you bend over, the black bikini bottoms accentuating your ass. his mouth practically watered. "gonna marry her someday," matt mumbles before walking towards you.
"what are you doing baby?" he asks, watching as you scrape your feet around the wet sand and examine the ground. "looking for more shells, wanna help?" you ask, giving him the cutest puppy dog look.
matt grins, nodding his head. the two of you began to search around the sandy floor, and matt would be lying if he said he wasn't looking up every so often to sneak a glance at you.
you bent over a lot, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. god, he wanted nothing more than to rip that thing off of you and fuck you right here in the ocean. "oh look, i found a starfish," you exclaim, pointing at the sea creature that occupied an underwater rock and making a 'yay' noise.
"good job babe," matt compliments, and you give him a proud grin. you were the sweetest girl in the world, and the fact that you were his made his ego rise.
"how about we swim now, hm?" matt suggests, and you nod eagerly. he grins, picking you up by your hips with ease, and carrying you deeper into the water.
your legs wrap around his waist as the cold water touches your toes. "cold," you squeal, burying your face in his neck. "don't worry baby, you'll get used to it," matt reassures.
matt was right, after a few seconds, the water didn't feel as cold as it first did. you let him carry you behind a few rocks, hiding your two bodies from the eyes of the public. "so pretty angel," he whispers, setting you down, placing his hands on your cheeks as he peppers your lips with kisses.
you let him, giggling softly. your fingers played with the hairs on his neck. "you look so pretty in this," he whispers, kissing down to your neck and biting the spot between your neck and shoulder.
your hand came up to his head, gripping the hair on his head. he sucks a hickey onto your neck before moving down to your collarbones.
"so pretty for me, my pretty baby," he whispers against your skin, one of his hands dropping down to the bottom half of your bathing suit. "gonna make you feel good," matt mumbles, rubbing his middle and ring finger against the crotch of your bathing suit.
"mhm," you squeak, an arm wrapped around his neck for support. "you want that, pretty girl?" he asks, continuing to rub his fingers against you. "yes, please," you whimper, pushing your hips against his hand.
"my girl is so pretty and polite, such a good girl for me," he praises, slipping his fingers past the hem of your bottoms. he rubs his fingers up and down your folds, his fingers easily collecting the wetness.
"all this just from me?" he teases, and you nod, a small whimper leaving your lips. "so perfect, angel. gonna finger you now, okay?" he tells you, and you nod.
matt was the sweetest boy, always making sure you were comfortable before doing anything.
he slips a finger inside of you, his mouth going to suck marks into your neck that would definitely get questioned later by the boys. "more," you breathe, your nails digging into his shoulders.
his hand goes to cover your mouth and his nose nudges your ear before he's whispering. "quiet baby, can't let anyone know what we're doing," he shushes, adding another finger.
you moan against his hand, and he presses kisses against your jaw. his fingers pump in and out of you slowly, trying not to be rough.
his fingers curl and he presses against a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. your grip on his shoulder tightens and you press your hips down against his fingers, silently asking him to keep touching you there.
"you like that baby? like it when i touch that spot?" he asks, continuing to rub his fingers against it. you nod quickly, and his thumb circles your clit. your eyes slip closed and your head lolls forward, resting on his shoulder.
your orgasm creeps up on you, and you can't find yourself to warn matt. the pleasure becomes too much and you're letting out a strangled cry against his hand, and your thighs shaking.
he helps you ride out your high, slowing his movements and pressing kisses along your neck and jaw. "my good girl, you did so well," he coos, pulling his fingers from your heat and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
"thank you," you mumble, your head still buried in the crook of his neck. "i love you," he mutters against your hair, and you can't help but grin. "i love you too, but if we don't leave this place soon, they'll come looking for us," you giggle.
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tag list:
@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho
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Text
On Set Shenanigans || Tom Blyth x actress!reader
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GIFS by me :) cred if use!!
Summary: just a bunch of random scenarios on set I thought of while I was in the shower lmao 🤣
Warnings: noneee
Wc: 1,553
A/n: sorta all over the place sorry lmao
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Divider by @pommecita
“If you could describe Y/n and Tom in one word, what would you say?” Rachel purses her lips, side eyeing the two of you who were watching her with silly grins. “Y/n and Tom are,” Rachel hums, tapping her chin as she breaks out into a chuckle.
“Goofy.” You and Tom turn to each other and just break into laughter. “They are seriously the most goofiest people I have met in my entire life! There is never a dull moment on set when these two around,” Rachel shakes her head as she smiles at the two of you who blow kisses her way.
“Tom and Y/n, there’s a behind the scenes video circulating around of the two of you in costume, dancing to Low by Flo Rida,” “Oh my god,” You drop your head on Tom’s shoulder as the two of you couldn’t help wipe the grin off your faces.
“Yes, there is,” Tom laughs as they put up said video. “If you guys haven’t see it, here it is,” Dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, white singlet with his dog tag out, and you in your outfit, you and Tom were dancing along to your favourite song to dance to, Low by Flo Rida.
Rachel was recording the video during your break and was dying of laughter. The camera was shaking the entire time because of it. You and Tom loved goofing around and dancing.
You could say it was your love language. You grab Tom’s peacekeeper hat and plop out on your head slightly wonky as you move along to the song, acting as if you were at a club in Berlin and not on set. The way you and Tom danced and moved to the music just made so much sense.
“She turned around and gave that big booty a smack,” Tom spun around as you slap his ass causing an eruption of laughter from everyone who was watching.
You and Tom were trying to hold your composure but that failed miserably as you grab Tom’s arms to stabilise yourself but turned out he had no sense of stability at that moment as the two of you fall to the ground. A light scream leaving your lips as you fall on top of Tom.
And then the camera focused on the ground as Rachel had leaned over, hands on thighs as she laughed out loud. If anyone didn’t know the context of that clip, they probably would have thought that you two were drunk but truth was you were quite sober.
The crowd on set burst out into laughter as you cover your face in slight embarrassment, Tom laughing along with the host as he pats your head.
~
“What do you usually do when you’re not filming on set?” Tom gives you a look as you bite back a laugh. “I think everyone knows this but, film tiktoks” The crowd breaks into laughter as they knew what you were talking about.
“Yeah Y/n is always filming tiktok and forcing me to do them with her,” Tom grips your thigh, shaking it lightly as you roll your eyes. “No I do not, you always want to be in them!” You argue with him. “Why don’t we watch a few of them here?” Kelly Clarkson recommended as you squeeze Tom’s arm with a smile.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CQrdGn8AYiD/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== The first tiktok was of you, Tom, Rachel, and Josh in your trailer. You had the idea in your head for a while now and showed them all. “Please don’t drop me babe,” You say to Tom as you set up the camera, “I would never,” You hear him say followed by giggle.
You expected to land in Tom’s arms. Not the floor. You let out a yelp as Tom slaps his hand over his mouth. The three of them laughing their asses off while you landed on yours with a loud thud. “It’s not funny you idiot,” You slap his arm as he picks you up, apologising to you by peppering your face with kisses.
You had to admit it was pretty funny rewatching the tiktok. “You weren’t supposed to catch my feet!” You say in between laughs as you post the tiktok.
~
“This one, captioned name a better duo, I’ll wait has gone quite viral with over 10 million views,” Kelly exclaims as you cross your legs at your knees nodding your head as the video plays on the screen. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNVsM6kw/
“Tom,” You tap your boyfriend’s shoulder as he hums. You had just finished filming a scene together and had abit of time before you were up again. You were both in your mentor outfits, Tom having his blonde locks today.
“I wanna film this tiktok, come be in it?” You urge him as he looks up from his phone seeing a glint of playfulness in your eyes as he lets out a sigh.
Tom secretly loved making tiktoks with you, especially since he wasn’t on it and found the stuff you make him do were interesting and funny. You had hundreds of random tiktoks that you filmed on set saved into your drafts, half of them were of you and Tom.
Your hair stylist helped film the tiktok as the two of you did it out in the open, a bunch of the filming team watching with curiosity and laughing as they walk by. Other cast members such as Josh, Hunter and a bunch of the mentor actors walked by ended up being in the background of it.
You and Tom moved along to the beat, literally just vibing to the music. You wrote on the tiktok “the funniest duo on set>>>” and you weren’t lying.
~
“We are here with the cast of the Hunger Games Prequel, the ballad of songbirds and snakes!” The crowd cheered as you, Tom, Josh, and Rachel smiles. “From what I’ve seen, you guys are actually TikTok sensations!” An eruption of laughter followed.
“This TikTok here specifically,” https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqguTEY/ you all turn your head to watch the TikTok play on screen as you all start to laugh. “Tom, where were you while this was happening,” The host looks at Tom whose eyes were trained on the ground, a grin forming on his lips.
“I’m actually there in the tiktok, on the bed. Trying to sleep.” He deadpans as you giggle, leaning your head on his shoulder as you grip his arm. “Yeah this was after we came back from partying in Berlin, obviously for some of us, our night didn’t end yet,” Tom chuckles as everyone bursts out in laughter.
“Let’s do that tiktok!” You squeal the second you enter the room. Opening up tiktok, you find the video and show Josh, Hunter, Rachel, and Tom it. Tom’s arms were thrown around your shoulders, his head resting on your head due to the height difference.
“I think I’m going to go to bed,” He yawns, kissing your cheek before you all bid him goodnight. Tom couldn’t even get 5 minutes of peacefulness as the four of you spill into the bedroom and set up your phone. He lets out a quiet groan at the noise and flashing of lights as he digs his head deep into his pillow.
~
“Babeee,” You call out as you step into the hair and makeup trailer. He was sitting on a chair, fully dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, hair free from his wig.
He looked more presentable compared to you and Rachel who still had hair rollers on and were still in your robes. You had seen a new trend going around tiktok where you would stare at a guy with Justin Timberlake’s mirrors playing in the background, and you wanted to do it with Tom https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqnRSNJ/
One side of his lips turns up as he looks up at you, “I’m filming a tiktok and I want you to be in it,” You say with puppy eyes although you know he wouldn’t refuse. You even got his hair and makeup artists, Stacey and Jade to be in on it too.
You pull up a chair beside Tom as you set up the camera. “Wait what am I supposed to do?” He asks, “Nothing, just sit there,” You innocently smile at him as he gives you a suspicious look but nods nonetheless, complying with whatever you were up to.
He honestly just expected to be on camera while you were doing something, but he did not expect to be stared down at by his girlfriend and hair and makeup artists. You stare intensely at Tom, trying your hardest to not laugh or look away.
Staring at your boyfriend has always not been an easy task, especially since he holds such intense eye contact. And his pretty blue eyes did not help at all. Tom tries not to laugh either as he gazes at you before his eyes flicker towards Stacey and Jade then back to you. “What’s going on,” He finally says as his body shakes from laughing.
The TikTok ends and you let out a small laugh, looking over the TikTok. You throw your head back in laughter at Tom’s face when you all look back to stare at him, honestly was priceless.
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