#they look like two besties having a sleep over

[khaylin27]

Clara Bow

pairing: oscar piastri x daughter reader; lando norris x niece reader; y/n norris-piastri x daughter reader

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: her whole life, olivia lacey piastri-norris has always been compared to family members.

warnings: none

author's note: i had to write clara bow as y/n and oscar's daughter 😭 hope y'all love it. thank you for supporting this mini series from the tortured poets department. now it's time to work on the actual stories on ttpd. if you want more content from this story please don't be afraid to ask on my 'ask me anything' tab.

"You look like Clara Bow in this light Remarkable All your life, did you know You'd be picked like a rose"

November 6, 2024

f1news BABY PAPAYA: After the Brazilian GP, the McLaren driver, Oscar Piastri, and his wife Y/N Norris-Piastri welcomed a baby girl into the world. Congrats to the Piastri family.

user1 THE PARENTS FINALLY BECAME PARENTS 🥹

user2 i already know lando is going to be besties with his niece since their birthdays are a week apart

user3 CARLOS MISSED WHAT HE COULD'VE HAD

user4 can we not bring up carlos for once. let this couple have their moment for once

After the Brazilian Grand Prix, Oscar and Lando went straight back home as soon as they could. Y/N was currently 42 weeks which is 2 weeks past her due date. Baby Papaya wasn't ready to be out in the world.

"Why does your daughter hate me?" Y/N squeezes Oscar's hand really tight as she pushes the baby. Tears falling from her face from the pain she was experiencing from pushing the baby.

"She doesn't hate you honey." Oscar reassures Y/N as she continues to push. "You're doing great honey. She's almost here." The couple hears not Y/N's tears, but the tears of their baby girl.

****

"Where's my niece?" Lando says as he enters your private room in the hospital. It's been 4 hours since Y/N gave birth to their baby girl.

"She's sleeping in her bassinet right now." Oscar says as he's snuggling you in the hospital bed.

"What's her name?" Lando asked admiring his beautiful niece sleeping.

"Olivia Lacey Piastri-Norris." Y/N says as she slowly gets up from the hospital bed to walk towards her brother. "She has her daddy and uncle's letters in her name. I had to put your name somewhere in her name. She wouldn't be here without you." Y/N and Oscar laugh while Lando admires his niece.

"She's so beautiful." Lando says then gives his sister a hug. "Thank you for the best early birthday present."

yourusername olivia lacey piastri-norris ✨🧡 my little rose

tagged oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri she's so perfect. she looks just like you.

yourusername no she looks like you 😭 landonorris y/n she looks exactly like you!!! charlesleclerc that means she looks like you lando 💀 landonorris why do you say that like it's a bad thing @/charlesleclerc 😭

racerbia omg baby papaya is here!! i can't wait for the boys to tell me stories about her in the office 🥺😭🧡

liked by yourusername

alexandrasaintmleux can't wait to meet her in the paddock next year 🥹

liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri baby papaya is here 👶🧡

tagged yourusername

mclaren WE LOVE YOU BABY PAPAYA 🥹🧡 congrats @/oscarpiastri @/yourusername @/landonorris -mclaren team

yourusername why is @/landonorris tagged on that comment @/mclaren he didn't give birth to her 💀 landonorris without me olivia wouldn't be here yourusername technically it's my husband sperm . . .

user1 Y/N IS SO UNHINGED I LOVE IT 🤣

danielricciardo another aussie!! congrats you two!

liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

logansargeant can't wait to teach her my american ways 🦅

landonorris HELL NO YOU'RE STAYING AWAY FROM MY NIECE user2 just the two L named uncles beefing over teaching olivia cultures 😭

landonorris I'm the favorite uncle. it's a fact 🧡

yourusername you're supposed to watch her lando not fall asleep with her 😭

landonorris it's called multitasking sister ✨ user1 they're both unhinged

carlossainz55 congrats on becoming an uncle camprón

landonorris thanks man.

user2 carlos what are you doing here? 😃

user3 he says congrats to lando but not even to the woman who gave birth to his niece.

"You look like Stevie Nicks In '75, the hair and lips Crowd goes wild at her fingertips Half moonshine, a full eclipse"

Growing up with her dad and uncle as F1 drivers, Olivia was always interested in becoming an F1 driver. Not only did Olivia go to races her dad and uncle were racing in, but she would go to the F1 Academy races with her mom.

Olivia and Y/N were currently in Miami supporting Oscar, Lando, and Tita aunt Bianca. "You know I told your Uncle Lando I was pregnant with you after his first win." Y/N tells Olivia while she was watching her Tita aunt Bianca doing Free Practice 1. Y/N sighs as she sees that Olivia wasn't interested in what she was saying and was focusing on the race. "I'm going to see if your brothers are awake." Olivia nods and sees that her mom leaves to check if her twin brothers were awake.

While Olivia was continuing to watch, she gets spooked by none other than her Uncle Lando. "What the hell Uncle Lando!" Lando laughs at how scared Olivia got. "I hate you."

"We all know you couldn't hate me." Lando smirks while Olivia roles her eyes.

"What are you doing here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be doing press interviews?" Olivia asks Lando.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to join me. It would be good press for you." Lando asks knowing Olivia was racing in F4.

"Fine, I'll join you." Olivia lightly slaps her Uncle before Lando pulls her into a side hug.

****

"So Olivia, has anyone told you that you look like your uncle?" The interviewer asks Olivia.

Olivia lightly laughs at the interviewer's question. "Yes, I actually get told that a lot. Since my mom is my uncle's sister, they have similar facial features. It isn't a surprised that they got passed down to me since I look like my mom. My brothers look more like my dad."

"How do you like your time in F4?"

"I love it. Of course F4 is rooted in my family since my Uncle raced there when he was young. I love the Jensen team so much. They're like my second family." The interviewer then asks if Olivia sees a future out of F4. "Yes I do. Since the Jensen team and I decided not to extend our contract, I've been offered many contracts in F3."

"Have you finalize a contract with any of the teams? When are you able to share?"

"Yes I have. After looking at many contracts with my family, I've decided that I'll be signing with Carlin F3 team next year." Olivia smiles at her response. "My uncle raced in team Carlin when he was F4 and now I have an opportunity to do the same thing."

"That's very exciting for you and your family. Congratulations Olivia on making it to F3."

Once the interview was done, Olivia sees her Uncle talking to Carlos Sainz. Olivia knew the history with her mom and Carlos. It's sad that her mom had to go through that relationship but she's happy that she met her dad because of it.

"OLIVIA! OLIVIA!" The crowd goes wild as they see her walking out of the paddock to walk to her Uncle and Carlos on the track. Olivia waves to the fans.

"The crowd goes wild at your fingertips little Lando." Carlos says as he gives you a side hug. Since Carlos is very close to Lando, he somewhat became your Tio uncle. Oscar and Y/N were fine with it since it's all in the past.

'I know. It's wild how they went from half moonshine, to full eclipse since I announced my contract." Y/N smiles at them before it was time to leave the paddock for the day.

f1news FAMILY TRADITIONS: Olivia Lacey Piastri-Norris, daughter and niece to both the McLaren boys, has announced her contract with Carlins F3 team. She's following the foot steps of her Uncle Lando.

user1 she looks so much like lando 😭

user2 she's working late cause she's a driver ✨

user3 following the footsteps of her uncle lando 🥹

oliviapianorris CONGRATS UNCLE LANDO ON ANOTHER WIN IN MIAMI 🥺🏝️🧡✨

tagged landonorris

landonorris thank you pookie 😸🫶

oliviapianorris never put that on instagram ever again user1 she's definitely her mother's daughter yourinstagram @/user1 that's a fact user1 OMG HI MOTHER liked by yourinstagram

user2 at this point this is lando's home race not logan's😭

oliviapianorris call me an honoree floridian 🫡🦅 logansargeant YES I'VE TURNED U INTO AN AMERICAN landonorris you're going too far @/logansargeant oliviapianorris be nice to each other@/logansargeant @/landonorris

user3 did you film this whole weekend for your youtube channel 😭

oliviapianorris yes i did! coming out on friday!!

"You look like Taylor Swift In this light We're loving it. You've got edge she never did The future's bright, dazzling."

mclaren Olivia. Lacey. Piastri. Norris. 👏👏👏 Our baby papaya has grown up and won her very first World Championship! 🧡🏆 Just like her dad and uncle.

tagged oliviapianorris

oliviapianorris thank you mclaren family 🥹 love and appreciate everything you've done for me and my family.

yourusername @/oscarpiastri I CAN'T BELIEVE OUR BABY IS GROWN UP AND BECOMING LIKE YOU AND @/landonorris

oscarpiastri olivia went from playing barbies at the mclaren office to now working for mclaren landonorris I'M NOT OKAY WITH MY NIECE BEING SO GROWN UP 😭

user1 the piastri-norris family has always belonged in mclaren 😭

user2 olivia is like oscar but with more edge!!!

user3 everyone is loving olivia in this light!

oliviapianorris the future's bright, dazzling 🏆🧡✨

tagged mclaren

mclaren our baby papaya forever and always 🧡💫

liked by oliviapianorris

user1 THE TAYLOR SWIFT LYRIC OH MY GOD

taylorswift dazzling ✨✨✨

liked by oliviapianorris

racerbia congrats on your wdc magandang babae pretty girl 🥹🧡✨

oliviapianorris thank you tita aunt 🥹🫶

carlossainz55 congrats mini lando 🏆

oliviapianorris thank you tio uncle carlos! thank you for giving me tips before the race! user2 y/n and carlos were never meant to be but im glad carlos became a second uncle to olivia and the piastri twins!

landonorris MY TWIN 👯🧡

liked by oliviapianorris

oscarpiastri she might look like you @/landonorris @/yourusername but she's my twin on the track 🏎️💨

oliviapianorris except i got more edge on the track then you 😉✨ oscarpiastri you got that from your mom and uncle lando yourusername 🥹🧡✨

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3

#f1 #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #lando norris #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #clara bow #miami gp 2024

[enwifen]

… 𝓚iss me ౨ৎ

🫧 𓂃 (추) kisses can be scary, especially when you have no idea how, but when your best friend offers to show you the ropes you wonder… how bad can it be?

or

a fic about jakey and kissing cause meife wants to be kissed (sigh)

warning: suggestive at most, making out wc. 1.8k

When Sim Jaeyun became friends with you, never in his life could he have imagined the current situation that the two of you were in.

A random episode of Friends plays on your tv acting as background noise. Closing your eyes, you attempt to stop the tornado of thoughts chaotically swirling in your mind. Jake eyes you curiously, noting the way your eyebrows pinch together slightly which was a telltale sign that something was bothering you.

“You okay?” Your eyes shoot open which startles him a little.

“Yeah, fine.”

Jake gives you a ‘I know you’re not fine so tell me what’s up’ look. “Seriously, I am.”

“Y/n.”

“What!”

Jake sighs softly “Tell me what’s wrong.” He can see all the emotions wash over you, your mouth opening and closes as you try and find the right way to voice your thoughts without sounding like a mess.

Sitting up from having your head in his lap, you switch to facing Jake sitting cross legged on the couch. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

Nodding slowly, confusion is evident on your friend’s face. “Right… what’s wrong with that? Plenty of people our age are in the same boat as you.”

“Well— yes but, I’m scared that when it comes to it, I’m gonna be an awful kisser.”

“You can’t be that bad, either way it’s expected since it’ll be your first, all first kisses are bad.”

“No they’re not.” Jake squints at you before laughing.

“Yeah? And how would you know?”

Realising the irony you quickly backpedal. “I meant I don’t want mine to be bad.” The corners of his lips turn downwards as he nods, understanding where you’re coming from. A small beat of silence passes.

“What was your first time like?”

A smirk makes its way onto Jake’s lips. “Woah are we still talking about kisses here— ow!”

Still armed with your weapon (a fluffy pillow) you flinch at him in an attempt to be threatening. “You know what I mean!”

“I do, I do, lemme think…” he trails off, looking up as his memory takes him back a few years. With Jake’s gaze averted, you’re able to admire him a little (platonically, of course). His fluffy bangs hide his brows that are bunched together in thought, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth — a bad habit you noticed he had. “Ah! I remember, it was about two years ago.”

The fluffy pillow serves as a source of comfort as you hug it to your chest. “You remember my ex, Ahrin, right?” Of course you did, you never really liked her all that much. She was whiny and took up all of Jake’s attention, the period of time that they were together was the longest you had went with seeing him so irregularly.

Not that you wanted to be in her position or anything. You just missed your bestie. So much so you lost sleep at night due to how much you would cry but, like, aren’t all friends like that?

Don’t all friends do that?

Don’t they repeatedly check their phone to see if the other had texted; typing and deleting hundreds of messages only for them to be left unsent? Even after the last time they had spoken was just a couple days ago?

Don’t they apologise for leaving you on delivered for so long and spend hours promising to make it up to you, calling you ‘baby’ and ‘love’ because they know you like it?

And don’t they come over the very next day because he couldn’t wait a day longer, hugging you as if his life depended on it.

Maybe they do all of that, maybe they don’t. You and Jake did though.

“…so yeah, I guess it wasn’t terrible but- are you even listening?” Jake asks in slight disbelief, finally glancing at you who seemed to be zoning out.

“Huh? Oh- yeah! Of course I was.”

“Repeat what I just said then.” He deadpans and you’re caught, slumping in defeat.

“Whatever- my first kiss was with Ahrin, it felt kinda good back then but looking back it wasn’t that special.” Jake shrugs though you sense there’s a little more to the story.

“So you didn’t… feel any fireworks?”

He snorts at that “you watch too many movies.”

“Is that a crime? Not my fault I enjoy romanticising things… especially firsts.”

“Romanticise all you want, as long as you know none of it’s real.”

You mimic Jake’s tone earlier “and how would you know? Have you kissed anyone besides Ahrin?” Jake shakes his head and for some reason that makes you happy.

“Did I manage to ease any of your worries with my story- well I guess you didn’t listen, huh.”

“I did!”

“Oh yeah? Where did we kiss then?”

You blush, immediately giving yourself away again as you name the first thing that comes to mind. “The school library…?”

“You really think I’m that much of a nerd?” Your silence makes Jake reach for the pillow in your lap to deliver a blow of Karma though you successfully manage to block it in time, letting out a squeal.

“I surrender!” Jake grins and puts the pillow down.

“Anyway, like I said, don’t work yourself up so much about first kisses… you could always redeem yourself with the second.”

Biting your lip in thought, you nod “I guess you’re right…”

“You’re still worried about it, aren’t you?”

Guilty again, you nod.

“Babe, I promise it’s not that deep- I could even help you out if you wanted.”

You blink once. Twice. Three times for good measure.

What did he just say?

Chuckling softly at your reaction, Jake repeats himself. “I said that I could help you out… if you wanted, like, teach you how to kiss or whatever.” He adds, trying to seem completely casual as if he didn’t just basically ask to blur the already fuzzy lines between you two.

An itch in your throat causes you to swallow, trying to digest your best friend’s proposal.

He was someone you trusted a lot, Jake wasn’t some mediocre looking guy either — he was attractive, and you’d be damned to turn down the opportunity to have your first kiss with him.

“Okay.” Jake looks surprised for a moment but his shock is quickly replaced by a warm smile. Just that alone is enough to comfort you, easing the nerves that had begun to make your body feel like it was vibrating.

He shifts a little on the couch to sit more comfortably before patting his lap, gesturing for you to sit. It’s not like this would be the first time but, now with the given circumstances everything felt different. The poor pillow is tossed aside as you climb into Jake’s lap, rough denim of his cargos brushing against your thighs.

Anxiously you look up at him, clutching the fabric of his sweatshirt. He smiles again, reassuring you with his warm hands gliding up and down your sides in a comforting manner.

“We’ll start off slow, okay?”

“Okay- wait.”

“Hm?”

You reach back into your pocket and pull out a small tube of watermelon flavoured chapstick. Sure this was just practice but the next worse thing after being a bad kisser was having chapped lips. Jake watches, amused until you tuck the tube away. “Good to go?” You exhale.

“Yeah.” Jake advises you to take a few deep breaths before starting. He gives you as much time as you need, even breathing with you because, frankly, he’s kinda nervous too. Not so much about kissing but more, wanting to make sure to give you the experience that you wanted. Yes it was ‘just practice’ but this was also literally your first kiss so, Jake had to take this seriously.

“First, try leaning into me.” Slowly you do, now close enough to where your foreheads are touching. As pretty as Jake’s hair was, it was a little itchy- but not uncomfortable, maybe ticklish? Focus!

Jake chuckles a little deeper than usual. “I can practically hear you overthinking, relax.”

“I’m trying.”

“We’ll try harder.”

Worry evaporates as you get used to being so close, reminding yourself that it was just Jake, just Jake who was inches away from your lips, just the same, good old bestie Jake.

You rub your lips together in anticipation, eager to progress onto the next step. Jake initiates the kiss, tilting his bed to leave a soft peck on your lips. It was barely there, barely even lasted a second but you still felt it and boy did it leave you buzzing. Like a bee to a flower, eager for more pollen.

“You try.” He whispers, licking his lips. Greeted with the sweet yet artificial taste of your chapstick. Jake is patient, not commenting on the long pause until you finally close the gap between you two. Yours was definitely longer than Jake’s, maybe lasting .5 more seconds.

“Sorry…” Jake smiles wide with a slight shake of his head.

“No, no, you’re good… how.. how did that feel?”

“Nice..” you mutter, shy. You’re rarely ever shy in front of Jake — this guy had practically seen all sides of you but now? You guess he was bringing out a new side of you even you didn’t know existed.

“Good, that’s good.” He mumbles. Time seems to tick away impossibly slowly. The room is silent except for your breaths, Netflix questioning whether or not anybody was still watching when the only thing you were watching was Jake and vice versa.

“Now try doing what you just did but longer.” You oblige, pressing your lips to his again. Plump and pillowy would be the right way to describe Jake’s lips, plump, pillowy and red, most likely from how often he bites them.

This time you only pull away once you need a breath but two fingers grabbing your chin gently pull you in again and you can’t find it in you to stop him. It’s now that you realise kissing isn’t as complicated as you had thought, following Jake’s lead of some sort of pattern.

One long kiss, pull away, a few shorter kisses, pull away and… that’s it, you’re kissing him.

Somewhere along the way you grew even more comfortable, arms now wrapped around his neck whilst one of Jake’s encircle your waist, his other up as his hand cups your cheek. How long you’ve been like this you don’t know but you’re certainly not complaining.

There were tons of other kisses out there but you were perfectly content with these ones for now. Safe and comforting — not at all intimidating like you had previously thought.

After a particularly long pause in activity, Jake rests his forehead against yours again. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

He opens his eyes to give you the same look he did earlier. You smile until your nose scrunches and giggles escape.

“For real this time… now kiss me.”

#enha fluff #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #enha jake #jake fluff #jake x reader #enhypen jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun fic #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun

[1800titz]

HI BESTIES. This is the first part of Shibari man/Shibari Asshole/Rigger!Harry x Rope bunny!Reader ((the one I teased here))

The one where Harry runs shibari classes and Y/N thinks he should smile more

WC: 2.4K

This is part one of a patreon exclusive series— the rest will only be accessible through my patreon. You can already find part 2 up on my patreon (✿◠‿◠) 

When she was a little kid, her brother had an ant farm. 

An acrylic formicarium that’d started out as two boxes with a set of tubes and, over time, morphed into a staggering, caged cityscape of twisting, pellucid hoses and burrows that spanned the entire length of the desk in his bedroom. 

She’d watch them scatter the tunnels as a little girl, lugging cracker crumbs and bits of malus, weaving along the chutes connecting the boroughs of their curated city.

Her brother did what any nasty, older brother would do — those harvester ants were the torment of her childhood. They’d bicker, and he’d threaten to spill them into her bed when she was sleeping. Told her that the colony would eat her toes, that she’d wake up to wiggle nothing but little stumps.  

Still, she’d press her nose to the screen barring the insects and smudge her fingerprints over, fascinated as they congregated to the wet cotton ball in the depths of their home. 

She thinks it's like that now, wandering the swarming alcoves in the underbelly of New York. She’s a little Pogonomyrmex plodding through a network of crystalline, vinyl tubing. Swimming against the swathing current of the colony seeping past her in their beanies and their coats, deadpanned on their dog-eat-dog pursuit of errands. 

During the evening rush hour, it’s teeming under the city that never sleeps. It’s a stunning exhibit, maybe, for a tourist whose hometown flickers every porch light off by nine and has one tributary of a road that seeps away from the community, but it doesn’t help the headache thrumming behind her temples. Instead, it kindles the narked throb in her limbs until it feels like an itch in her bloodstream. The day’s chewed her up with its sharp, little teeth and spit her out. Left something tired and empty. The dregs are grounds of mucky ire. 

She mingles through the horde, slinking the gaps she can manage to squeeze past. Anti-seize lubricant. Cherry cleaners and old concrete. Musk and brake dust. Ground up, heated steel from the wheels burning — metal on metal. Grease. It smells like asphalt and strife. 

The car is packed. A lumbering throng that weaves and scatters, either casting indignant looks over their shoulders when they’re nudged as she politely shoulders her way through, or soul-sucked into their phones altogether, scrolling in detachment. 

There’s one tawny seat, empty and tucked against the back wall. She inches for it on aching ankles, burning knees; the bits of a long day left sewn into her joints. It gnaws into her marrow. She twists—

Marimba blares from her bag. Someone casts an irrationally exasperated side-eye over their shoulder. Y/N straightens out, and rummages through the contents. A battered lanyard. A spare stick of deodorant. A hair tie coated in lint and a sparse handful of change—

Drink water. She thumbs the alarm off. 

When Y/N sits back, it’s rigid. Firm and uneven. Warm, like a breathing furnace. It takes her all of a split second to recognize that she’s managed to perch on a splayed thigh, clad in denim that’s shredded at the knees, rather than the grooved, ochre plastic of a hovering seat.  

Y/N had thought there was little emotion she could have summoned beyond something drained and miffed. The day surprises her, yet, in its dying breaths. Like a mortified buoy, embarrassment bobs from the cesspool when she startles up and twists. There’s a man in her seat. 

He looks oddly comfortable, almost as if he’d been there all along. As if Y/N had just conjured a mirage of an empty seat. The only acknowledgement he gives her, blinking up from the phone cradled in his enormous, right hand, is a stoically disgruntled glance from behind the squared, pitch-framed lenses resting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Um. Excuse me—” Y/N blinks, lash line frenzied with an uncomfortable tic — something that she used to fuss over in chagrin as a kid. Her brows crease, “I was sitting there.” 

He spares her a glance. There’s gems in his sockets. Emeralds. Dewy and dulled from the same, shitty day of skyscraper-morphed incisors gnawing. He looks away, and they coruscate in the near blinding glare of his LED, cast in a faint echo over his glasses.

“No, you weren’t.”

Y/N blinks. He doesn’t even spare her a glance as he denies it. She’s forced to stare at the part in his hair; the way a curl sweeps over his temple. He scrolls over his screen, instead, with a neatly saffron-lacquered thumb. 

She swallows a flattering epithet that (his obvious disinterest) nearly wrests from her mouth. A flimsy facsimile of a smile sculpts over. Appalled. Nearly seeping into the beginnings of borderline deranged as her threadbare composure gets toyed at by a prick with a clandestine pair of scissors. Almost, almost, almost. 

“Well. I was going to.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” he murmurs, brows kinked, “because this seat is taken.”

A little noise clambers from the back of her throat. She swallows it down and scoffs. “Are you serious?” 

“Deadly.” 

It’s dry, derisive, disinterested. The three D’s that are going to get his glasses plucked off and tossed to the floor to be crushed under someone’s heel. 

“Unbelievable.”

Mossy eyes sweep up. He’s quiet. Stony. For the first time, Y/N really gets a good look, and decides, instantly, that if he weren’t such an apparent dickhead, maybe his specs and his voguish jumper would make him look sophisticated. Handsome, with his even slope of a nose, full, pink lips, and the dusting of stubble along his cheeks and jawline. 

There’s a sharp contrast to him, like inverted colors. Patchwork of seams that don’t fit. It’s off, his cozy sweater and his soft hair. He looks like a warm, barbed hug. 

Prickly — saguaro, in a Marc Jacobs pullover, with stinging spines sticking through the stitching. 

“What’s the matter with you?” It’s softer that she’d intended. 

She quivers — everything. Her bottom lip, her mandible sets, her fingers wring at the strap of her tote. They twitch and stretch at her side with this provoked, goopy slurry of cortisol and adrenaline. It permeates her pericardium. Snakes the tubing with an incensed warmth — embers kindled.

“Do you realize how rude that is?” 

Asphalt and strife. Someone to her side glances over their shoulder and then turns back. The man blinks up at her from his phone with soft features chiseled apathetic. Vetiver and musk. 

“M’not sure what you mean.” 

“Are you joking? You stole my seat, dude,” she waves out with her hand. 

He blinks again. 

“I don’t think it ever belonged to you, to be fair—“ then, “Is your name on it?” 

It’s a childish retort to spall her argument into flinders. Her eyes narrow into anticipatory slits. 

“No—“

“Then I suppose it’s not your seat, is it?” he responds sharply — chiaroscuro to the lax, impassive shape of his visage, “S’first come, first serve …dude.”

A stranger grazes her shoulderblade in passing — something she’s become accustomed to. People finding walkways in strait gaps on a train that’s packed like a can of sardines. 

“Oh my God. You are such an asshole— I could be pregnant.” 

He raises his eyebrows. His eyes trail. A slow once-over, wry and disbelieving. Sage and owlish. A stray curl stemming from the forefront of his crown meddles to coil over his forehead. The corner of his otherwise indurated mouth twitches.

“Are you pregnant?” 

No.

“Yes,” Y/N glowers. 

It slinks from the back of her throat, unbidden— this lie. Rides up the back up of her tongue and slips through the cracks of her teeth. It’s curdled and twisted, miasmic pulp in tar — who the fuck lies about being pregnant for a subway seat?

She’s never going to see him again. 

She’s never, ever going to see him again. 

She palms over the underside of her tummy. Sells it, now that she has to. Soft flesh under the button of her jeggings, shrouded under the boxy shaping of her fleece turtleneck — where a baby (that definitely doesn’t exist, last she checked), the size of a citrus limon, would curl up. She holds over the phantom at her underbelly. 

She’s had a shitty day, and now she’s been backed into a corner, offering the universe shitty manifestations with her palms cupped out. 

The seat stealer ogles. Meanders from her strategic hand placement to her ireful scowl. Back. His mouth purses. 

“So, it’s not that you could be,” he clarifies, slowly, “It’s that you are.”

Languid. Unrushed, like an overflowing, murky lake lapping at a berm. Someone brushes the back of her arm. 

“Yes.” 

“Are you lying?” 

She scoffs. He’s fully transfixed on her now, the glow from his smartphone dimmed on its pending shut-off timer. 

“Are you kidding? Who—“ Y/N hikes her tote up, “lies about being pregnant for a subway seat?” 

He purses his lips again. Ruddy pillows bordering the sharp chasm of his mouth where the tools to dissect her claims are stowed. Bobs his head. 

“How far along are you, then?” 

She grits, “Thirteen weeks—“

And a stranger prods past with enough force to nudge her forward. Enough for her shin to brush against the bespectacled man’s own. Enough to step into his space, nearly between his parted thighs. He frowns. 

He does another slow sweep with his gaze. Furrowed brows, glimmering viridian dancing from behind limped lenses. Gleaning pieces like cattail and twine for a nest. Deciding; are they worthy? A grip over her underbelly, the little frown on her own lips that mirrors his own, the way she suddenly crowds his atoms. He’s unconvinced, almost. Apathetic. 

Y/N fully expects him to tell her to fuck off, but then he nudges with his stubbly chin. She shuffles back as much as she can with about three, broad strangers at all sides. 

He bleeds out into her, for a moment, when he clambers up and steps in to make their cycle — this game of musical chairs to the tune of white noise, flitting on a screeching rail through a tunnel — smoother. He’s broad. Tapered. Thick in the shoulders, a carnegiea of a man towering when he nearly presses his firm chest to her, wrapped in french terry. He’s much softer to the touch than the spikes bristling from his mien implicate. Woodsy and clean, like smoke, and cedarwood, and soap. It flushes the miasmic undertone of grease the subway always has. 

He cocks his head. Sit down. 

“Congratulations,” he tells her when she nooks into the spot, splaying her tote over her lap. 

He’s kept her seat warm. 

Whether the statement is in reference to her unborn pseudo-baby, or her victory, she’s unsure. 

                         ──── ⋆⋅•⋅⋆ ────

KNOTS resembles a yoga studio, with its clean, tall walls, its french oak flooring, and its bone-white bulbs, linearly tiled into the ceiling. It smells like an amalgam of grapefruit cleaning products and spritzes of an air freshener that vaguely echoes the lapping sea. 

Salt, an airy ozone, muguet. Something pretentious that doesn’t fit into the city. 

If it weren’t for the myriad of ropes, lubricants, and toy cleaners stacking the shelving units by the front, she would have felt as if she was here to attend a pilates class. Cycling, maybe. Something sweaty and less …abrasive.

She’s late for her seven-to-nine open level, beginner’s course — two soporific hours of rope and knot tying that she’ll never get back.

(Slaphappy and fecklessly inept at knot-tying are two traits that don’t work well to take up shibari as a hobby. 

“Please— she’s been begging for months and none of those online tutorials make any fucking sense.” 

“So— why don’t you take her with you?” 

“Because I want it to be a surprise,” Niall had opposed. Puffed his chest, “I wanna surprise her. Like a proper ropes guy, you know. And she’s so flexible, too, I could tie her in loads of positions—“

Y/N raised her palm. “Spare me.” 

Niall’s always been a glass half-full. Crystalline, something tall with orange juice, or liquidated fizz. 

She couldn’t bear to ruffle his plume when, two autumns ago, he spent a Wednesday afternoon standing outside a women’s handicapped stall in an auto shop for pure, courageous moral support as she took an actual pregnancy test, (not even by his doing, and he was a very good sport). Even if he’s absolute shit at knots beyond tying his own shoes.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that if he struggled with twine and a palomar, it wasn’t going to matter how bendy his girlfriend was.)

They’re fourteen minutes late. Eight-hundred-forty seconds and change for every two steps, by the time they find the right door in the balmy corridor of boundless doorways. A portly, alder ingress squeals on its hinges when they shuffle, as quietly as they can manage, into what vaguely resembles a dance studio. 

The attendees look the part, too, perched over their yoga mats in contemporary dancer garb, turning their chins over their shoulders at the disturbance. Dress casual and comfortable. There’s only about eight of them, and they coil in a piqued coterie ahead of the instructor, who has about six varying ropes, diverse in their tint and structure, and then he peers up—

It’s him. Saguaro, with the frames and the eyes like beds of flinty malachite. 

He’s holding a furled, plaited cord, the head of the class, and he pauses, blinking up. Briefly. He clears his throat—

”—Jute, on the other hand, has great knot stability. You can see here, the braided texture— that makes it less slippery.”

Compunction crinkles the valley of skin between her eyebrows as she trudges in alongside Niall — he’s much more amicable about it, mouthing apologies and raising his hand in friendly hello’s that don’t receive much beyond awkwardly indifferent glances. They sink to their knees toward the back, which isn’t all that far from the front, all things considered. It’s a small class. The wood burrows into her tailbone — were the yoga mats a complementary notion? Was she supposed to bring a yoga mat?

“It’s great for floor bondage, but it’s water sensitive. So if you want to work it into suspension, don’t wash it too often. Otherwise, you’re losing carrying capacity.”

The city of New York is a metaphorical hayrick. It’s a paradox, since the big apple is the furthest thing from watery mud, fir-constructed barns, and scythes sweeping through crops. 

Theoretically, though, Y/N should have never seen this man again. 

He should have become swept into the mound of straw — got lost in it. Mortification strums at her muscles, tensing every sinew. It scars deep— scrapes at her cartilage. If she’d known this needle would prick her thumb again, maybe she wouldn’t have waged war for the seat on the subway. 

And yet, here he is.

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #dom harry styles #dom!harry x sub!reader #dom harry #enemies to lovers #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #shibari!harry #rigger!harry #harry styles fanfiction

[sequinsmile-x]

Hi I love all your hotchniss parents fics so much they’re such a comfort!! If requests are open, can I ask for a little hurt/comfort where hotchniss’s teenage daughter is sleeping in their bed again at night? For whatever reason you’re comfortable with writing and it reminds them of when she was little and would sleep in their bed🥺 just can’t get the image out of my head and i know you would do it justice if you want to <3

of course bestie <3 I love writing them with teenage/older kids. It has a special place in my heart.

I really hope this was what you were looking for and that you enjoy it <3

-x-

Reminiscence

Emily and Aaron's teenage daughter has her heart broken.

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 4k (i got a little carried away!)

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

Emily smiles as she looks at her husband and takes the glass of wine he holds out for her, “Thanks, honey.”

Aaron carefully observes his wife as she checks her watch, her cheeks puffed out as she blows out a breath. He presses a kiss to her forehead as he sits next to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder. 

“She’s fine, Em.” 

She grunts, irritation that only lasts a second licking at her insides at how well he knows her, “I know that,” she replies, huffing as she rests her head on his shoulder, “It’s just getting close to curfew.” 

Since the moment Hazel was born, everyone had always told Emily how much like her the little girl was. At first, it was the way she looked. How her daughter had her nose, and her dark eyes and her smile. As Hazel’s personality developed the comments became even more common, and Emily couldn’t deny how much of herself she recognised in her little girl, how she had so many of the attributes she’d always been told were bad in her but that seemed beautiful in her stubborn, adventurous, wilful daughter. 

As soon as Hazel became a teenager, however, Emily started to worry. She remembered all too well what she’d been like. All the secrets she’d hidden from her mother, and it made her long for the days when her daughter was a tiny thing that would crawl into her and Aaron’s bed when she’d had a bad dream.

“She’s sensible,” Aaron says, kissing her temple, pressing his smile against the edge of her grey hair, as he takes the glass of wine out of her hand and sets it down. “You know that.” 

She hums as she checks her watch again, “The half of her that is you is.” 

She worried less about Jack and Issac. Not because they were boys, but because they were both mini versions of her husband. Jack was the most sensible college student she’d ever met, and Issac was so serious his teacher had mentioned it at his most recent parent-teacher conference, a wry smile on her face as she told them she’d never met an 11-year-old quite as earnest as him. He was up in his bedroom playing video games and she knew that she wouldn’t have to remind him of his bedtime, that he’d quietly put the game away when he’d been told to.

Issac had Aaron’s stern glare perfected since the day he was born, quiet and furious to be born as he was placed on Emily’s chest for the first time, the complete opposite to Hazel’s loud and dramatic entrance to the world four years previously. 

Aaron laughs and hooks his finger under her chin to make her look at him, “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

Warmth spreads through her chest, the familiar love she’d had for him for almost two decades as overwhelming as it always had been as she leans in to kiss him, the taste of the wine they were sharing passing from her lips to his. 

“I love you.”

He smiles as her breath skips across his face as she speaks and he kisses her again before he replies, “I love you too.” 

She smiles as she hooks her hand around the back of his head, her fingers pushing through his hair as she deepens the kiss, taking advantage of the rare opportunity of some alone time with her husband. She starts to lose herself in him and is about to shift closer to him, about to slip into his lap, when she hears thundering footsteps on the porch steps followed by the front door flying open. She slips out of Aaron’s embrace when she hears a gasping sob in the foyer and she walks out into the hallway. She frowns as Hazel comes into view, her face bright red and her eyes swollen as she sobs again, her face crumbling as she steps towards Emily. 

“Hazel?”

“Mommy.” 

The gasp of the name Hazel hadn’t called her in years pushes Emily forward, her arms reaching out as she gathers her daughter against her chest, the fierceness of the 15-year-old girl's hold on her only making her worry more. 

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asks, exchanging a look with Aaron as he steps out of the living room too, his worry just as obvious as hers as he steps towards them. She cups the back of Hazel’s head and encourages her to look at her. She checks for any obvious injury, looking her up and down, “Are you hurt? What’s happened?” 

Hazel’s lower lip trembles as she sucks in a breath, “Brock dumped me.” 

She sinks back against Emily, her sob shuddering from her chest into her mother’s. Emily wraps her arms around her and rubs her hand up and down her back, “Oh, baby I’m sorry.”

Aaron is about to step towards them, ready to pull them both into his arms, his wife’s distress at seeing their daughter so upset obvious despite the facade she was trying to hide it behind, but he spots his youngest son standing at the top of the stairs, his concern for his sister clear. Aaron looks at Emily and nods his head towards Issac and she nods in response, a silent agreement that he’d go and look after their youngest whilst she spoke to Hazel passing between them. He turns and heads up the stairs, his arm around Issac’s shoulders as he leads him back to his room. 

“Come on buddy,” he says, smiling softly at him, “Why don’t you show me that level on your game that you were telling me about?” 

Emily half pays attention as Issac frowns and eventually agrees with Aaron and lets himself be led upstairs. She focuses on Hazel, on the way she’s crying against her, the material of her shirt sticking to her skin, and her attempt to soothe her. She shushes her gently like she hadn’t in years and guides her towards the living room, barely getting a second to sit down herself before Hazel is pressed up against her again, her damp face against her neck.

“Do you want to tell me what happened with Brock?” She asks, hating how her daughter tenses against her, how her grip on her shirt tightens. 

Hazel and Brock had been dating for a few months. It had been long enough that he’d been to the house a few times, he’d sat at the dining table with them and been polite whilst they ate dinner and she and Aaron were sworn to ‘behave’ by their daughter. Hazel was infatuated with him. The kind of young love Emily knew almost always ended in heartbreak, but she’d hoped that Hazel would be spared this. 

Hazel sniffs as she pulls back, avoiding Emily’s eye contact as she looks down at her lap, “I don’t want you to be mad.”

“Sweet girl,” Emily says softly, cupping her chin and making her look up, “I won’t be mad. You can tell me anything you know that.” 

Hazel nods and her lower lip trembles again, her emotions still rumbling in her chest and forcing their way out. 

“We were going to…” she clears her throat and closes her eyes, “We were going to have sex,” she says, her voice low, embarrassment colouring every word. Emily is grateful for years of political training, for the fact she can school her features and not show her shock to the teenager sitting in front of her, forcing herself to breathe normally even though it feels like she’s been sucker-punched, “And I thought I was ready but…I didn’t want to. I changed my mind.” 

Emily had always been very open with her children when it came to sex. She didn’t want them to make the choices she had, didn’t want them to look for love and acceptance in all the wrong places and then be left to make the decisions she’d had to when she was young. She and Aaron had disagreed over it occasionally, the thought of his kids having sex as teenagers almost too much for him to bear, but she’d always been more realistic with it - aware they were going to do it anyway. Despite that, this was still hard to take. Hazel was the same age she had been in Rome, and, more than anything, it highlighted just how young she’d been then herself. 

She clears her throat, grateful when her voice doesn’t shake as she asks the first question that comes to mind, “Did he hurt you?” She asks tucking some of Hazel’s hair behind her ear. The teenager looks up at her questioningly, her head tilted in a way that made her seem even younger, “He didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do?” 

Hazel’s eyes go wide as Emily’s question registers and she shakes her head, allowing a small sense of relief to wash over her mother, “No. He didn’t,” she says, more tears falling past her lash line as she laughs bitterly, “He called me a tease and then broke up with me,” she chokes on a sound between a laugh and a sob, “He told me if I wouldn’t sleep with him someone else would.”

Anger licks at Emily’s insides as Hazel sobs, the sound catching in her chest as she covers her mouth and Emily can feel her own heart cracking in her chest. Every instinct she has is screaming at her to go find the teenage boy who had broken her little girl’s heart and tell him exactly what she thinks of him, but she reminds herself that isn’t what her daughter would want, or even need.

She needed her right here listening to her as she cried and bore her heart to her, pressed up against her chest in a way she hadn’t been in years. 

“I just want someone to love me like Dad loves you,” Hazel cries, shuddering against her, “I thought Brock did.” 

Emily sighs sadly and kisses the top of Hazel’s head as she continues to play with her hair, running her fingers through it like she had done ever since she was small. It was something that had always soothed all of the Hotchners including Aaron, her secret way of calming them down - a touch her husband always liked to say was magic. 

“Sweetheart,” Emily says softly, resting her cheek on top of Hazel’s head, “You’re 15. You have so much time to figure it all out,” she assures her, “I know that doesn’t help how this feels right now. But you do.” 

Hazel laughs humourlessly as she pulls back and shakes her head, “Boys suck.”

Emily chuckles and nods, leaning forward to kiss Hazel’s forehead, “I’m quite fond of your dad and your brothers,” she says, her smile widening slightly when one flashes across her daughter’s face, “But you’re right about the rest of them.” 

Hazel’s smile shakes, “Can I…”

She drifts off, and Emily can see how her cheeks go slightly pink, as if she’s embarrassed by whatever she wants to ask, “Can you what, sweetheart?” 

“Can I sleep in your bed with you and Dad?” She asks, avoiding eye contact again, “I don’t want to sleep alone, and it always made me feel better when I was a kid.” 

Emily has to stop herself from smiling too widely, and from telling Hazel that she was still a kid, well aware it wouldn’t go down well, and she nods, reaching out for her daughter's hand and squeezing it.

“Of course you can, baby.”

___

Aaron is able to distract Issac for a while. 

He’s worried about Hazel, about whatever happened with Brock, the teenage boy Aaron had never been fond of anyway, but he tries to put it to one side to focus on his son. Eventually, not long after he hears Emily and Hazel walk up the stairs and towards the master bedroom, he puts the controller in his hands down, smiling at his son as he checks the time. 

“Time for bed Zac.”

Issac nods and switches off the console, handing Aaron the controller he’d been using so he could put them on the side. Issac hesitates as he lies down, sighing like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders as he does so. 

“Dad,” he says, the concern he’d had for his big sister coming back in full force “Why was Hazel upset?” 

Aaron sighs and sits on the edge of his son’s bed, his hands clasped in his lap as he looks at his youngest, “Brock broke up with her.” 

Issac looks affronted, a frown on his face that Emily would say was all him as he sits up a little straighter, “Why?” 

Aaron had a feeling he knew, but he hoped he was wrong because he knew he’d have to convince his wife to not hunt down a teenage boy he wanted to tell off himself. 

“I don’t know, buddy,” he says, “She’s going to be sad for a little while though.” 

Issac’s frown deepens, “Shall we beat him up?” 

“No, Issac,” Aaron chuckles and reaches out to ruffle his son’s hair, “You need to spend a little less time with Uncle Derek.” 

Issac looks at the one remaining stuffed animal in his room. A few months ago he’d declared he was too old for them and had asked his parents to get rid of all but one - a stuffed black and white cat called Hector that he’d loved since he was a toddler - claiming it would be good to have one for emergencies. Emily had bagged them all up and put them in the loft in case he ever changed his mind, and they all pretended he didn’t cuddle up to Hector every night. Aaron watches as he reaches out for it, hesitating for a split second before he wraps his hand around Hector’s paw and passes it to Aaron. 

“Can you give this to her?” 

Aaron presses his lips together to suppress a smile and grabs the toy from him, “Are you sure buddy?”

Issac nods, “It’s for emergencies and this is an emergency.” 

He smiles and stands up, dropping a kiss on his youngest’s head, blown away by his kindness and empathy as always, “That’s sweet. I’ll make sure she gets him.” 

Issac smiles as he settles back down, “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Zac,” he says, kissing his head again before he heads towards the door, “You know where we are if you need us.” 

He blows out a breath as he steps out into the hallway and he smiles at the stuffed cat in his hands. They’d lost it once when Issac was young, misplacing it at an airport during a vacation. Issac had spent almost a day crying in Emily’s arms as Aaron hunted it down, edging on abusing his privileges as an FBI agent to get his son’s favourite toy back. He steps into the master bedroom and smiles softly as he spots Emily and Hazel curled up together, the teenager looking younger than usual with her make-up gone and her head on her mother’s chest. 

“Zac wanted you to have this,” Aaron says as he walks across the room, exchanging a smile with his wife as he hands the cat over to Hazel.

Hazel chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her throat. She hugs the toy against her chest and rests her cheek on the top of it, “Hi Hector,” she whispers against its threadbare fur, “Will Zaccy be okay without it? He still likes to sleep with it.” 

Aaron sits on the edge of the bed, “He said he’d be fine,” he assures her, his lips curled into a half smile, “He said this was an emergency.”

“That’s sweet,” Emily says, running her fingers through Hazel’s hair as she imagines how seriously her youngest would have been as he passed the toy over to give to his sister. As an only child, she’d never experienced the love of a sibling, not until she joined the BAU and was suddenly surrounded by people she would one day class as her family. She loved the love her children had for each other, and it gave her comfort that they’d always have each other - even long after she and Aaron were gone one day hopefully decades from now. 

Aaron reaches out and places his hand on Hazel’s knee and squeezes, “You okay, sweetheart?” 

She shrugs, her focus on Hector as she plucks at some lose fur, “I don’t know,” she replies, her lips pressed into a firm line, “Boys are stupid,” she says, her eyes flashing up at him, “Present company not included of course.”

Aaron chuckles and squeezes her knee again, “I’m sure your Mom would agree that I can be plenty stupid myself,” he says, winking at Emily when she rolls her eyes, “You sleeping in here with us?” 

Hazel sniffs and nods, tightening her hold on Hector, “Yeah. Mom said it was okay.” 

“Of course it is,” he says, “I’m going to get ready for bed,” he says, squeezing her knee one more time before he stands up. 

Emily gets up too, slipping out from underneath Hazel, “Me too.” 

“Before you make out in the bathroom,” Hazel says, settling down onto Emily’s pillow, “Please remember your heartbroken kid in your bed.”

Emily smirks at Hazel as she walks to the bathroom, making a point of stepping a little closer to Aaron than necessary, “No promises, honey.” 

As soon as the ensuite door closes behind them, Hazel’s half-hearted joke in response to Emily lost behind the wood, Emily’s shoulders sag, the fake cheeriness she’d put on for their daughter gone in an instant. She covers her face with her hands and sighs, her chest shuddering with it as it escapes. Aaron walks over and pulls her into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her. She hooks her arms around his back, pressing herself as close to him as possible, soaking as much comfort as she can from him until they go back out into the bedroom and she has to be okay again. 

“What happened?”

She rests her forehead against his shoulder for a moment before she pulls back to look at him, “You have to promise me that you’ll be level-headed about this,” she murmurs, her tongue wetting her lower lip as she shakes her head, “Because I don’t want to be and one of us has to be so we don’t end up on the local news.”

He smiles as he tucks some hair behind her ear, the low light of the bathroom catching on the silver strands he loved so much. She’d dyed her hair for years, hiding the grey flecks that would appear in her roots every couple of months. He’d encouraged her to grow it out. Something about growing older with her, about watching the years they’d spent together reflected in the laugh lines around her eyes that made him love her even more. 

“Well,” he says, “You did used to be a spy. I think we’d get away with it,” he clears his throat  when she raises her eyebrow at him and he nods, “I promise.” 

She blows out a breath and closes her eyes, giving herself a moment to calm herself down, “They were going to have sex,” she says as evenly as she can, not missing how his eyebrows shoot up his forehead and how his grip on her tightens, “She changed her mind and he dumped her for it.”

“He did wha-” he cuts himself off as he raises his voice, the way she glares at him enough to force him to clear his throat, his anger pushed down into his belly, making it roll in a way that makes him feel nauseous, “That is…” he shakes his head, “Is she okay?” 

She laughs humourlessly, “No. She’s completely heartbroken, she said she just wants someone to love her,” her voice cracks and tears burn at the back of her eyes, her breath shaky as she tries to hold it back, “I remember how that feels, Aaron,” her chin trembles, “I just don’t want her to think that next time she doesn’t have a choice if she wants someone to stay with her.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says, cupping her cheek and wiping away a tear as it slips past her lashes, “She knows she has us, and she’s got a lot of friends and two brothers who love her,” he leans in and kisses her forehead, “She’ll be okay. Maybe not today, or for a little while, but she will be,” he offers her a half smile, “She’s just like you.” 

She smiles at him. It shakes, but it’s genuine, and she nods, hugging him again and breathing him in, giving herself another couple of seconds of him before she steps away and sighs. 

“We should actually get ready for bed,” she says softly, “Before she thinks we really are making out in here.” 

He chuckles and nods, and they get ready quickly and quietly, both of them desperate to get back out to their little girl. Emily is ready first, something that was unusual - her normal skincare routine stripped back to the basics, and she kisses him before she leaves the bathroom, a murmur of her love for him pressed against his lips. 

He’s just about ready himself when he hears his phone vibrate on the counter where he’d set it down as he got changed into his pjyamas and he picks it up, frowning curiously when he sees it’s from Jack. 

Zac texted me about Brock. We ride at dawn. 

Aaron sighs and lovingly shakes his head, enjoying a moment of amusement he knows he shouldn’t show his wife to keep his promise to her that he’d be level-headed about it. He sends a response to his oldest, telling him he’d call him in the morning, and then he heads out to the bedroom. He can’t help but smile when he sees Emily and Hazel curled up together, Hector squished between them. For a moment it’s 10 years ago and Hazel is 5 and upset about monsters that didn’t exist anywhere other than her dreams, not 15 and heartbroken over a boy that never deserved her. He wished he could make it go away for her like he did back then, that there was some way he could make this better, but he knew all he and Emily could do was be there for her. 

“Is he going to join us or just stand there and stare at us?” Hazel stage whispers, not lifting her head from Emily’s shoulders, and he shakes his head before he walks over, climbing under the covers. 

“We should get some sleep,” he says, dropping kisses on both of their foreheads like he would have done all those years ago, another flash of his past colliding with his preset. 

Hazel hums in response and encourages him closer, sighing something near contentedly as she settles between both her parents, “Love you.” 

“We love you too, Haze,” Emily says, running her fingers through her hair, “Try and get some sleep, sweetie.” 

They both lay there for longer than necessary and watch her, their focus on her sharp long after she’s fallen asleep, her grip on the stuffed cat in her arms finally loosening. Both Emily and Aaron wonder where the time had gone, how it had been 15 years since they’d first brought Hazel home, and as they drift off to sleep themselves they idly hope time would slow down so they could enjoy as much time with their children as possible. 

-x-

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[georgeclarkewifey]

Inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 2 - A New Home

Word Count: 1.3k+

Summary: Noa reaches her destination, and gets reunited with bestie number 2

Warnings: swearing, very mild angst / reference to it

“Noa, oi, wake up.” Chris whispered, gently shaking her shoulder, causing Noa to jerk awake.

“Huh? What happened?” She asked blearily, trying to get a grasp of her surroundings as her eyes adjusted. “Shit, did I fall asleep? I’m so sorry Chris, that can’t have been fun for you.”

Looking round, Noa realised that they were in the parking garage underneath their apartment building. The bright white lights were harsh upon her eyes as she glanced round, squinting to get a better view.

“Noa, you were exhausted, I really don’t mind. C’mon, we’re here and I’ve already picked up your keys, so we can get you moved in.” Chris replied, popping the boot to start unloading boxes.

“Have I ever told you that you’re a godsend Dixie?” Noa asked, climbing out of the car to stretch. “God that felt good.”

“Yeah you might have mentioned it and imagine what sleeping on a nice mattress will be like tonight.”

“Just need to source one first.” Noa shrugged, taking a couple more boxes out of Chris’ car and setting them down on the ground.

“Wait. You do have furniture, right Noa?” Chris asked, slowly turning on his heel, to look at his friend incredulously. “Noa, I swear to god-“

“I’ve got an air mattress for tonight, and then I’m going to ikea tomorrow to break my bank account.” She shrugged, putting her backpack on nonchalantly.

“I honestly can’t believe you.”

Noa chuckled, patting Chris on the shoulder. “I would have thought that after 24 years you would have gotten used to me by now.”

Chris rolled his eyes and pulled her into a hug. “You still somehow manage to surprise everyday. And hey, it’s nice to have you less than two minutes away from us again, instead eight hours away in the car.”

Noa nodded gently, letting her head rest on Chris’ shoulder. “Yeah, it’s good to have you guys back again.”

“Are you two having a cute moment without me?” A voice from across the garage called.

“ARTIE!” Noa exclaimed, detaching herself from Chris to break into a light jog, so that she could launch herself at the figure of one Arthur TV. He laughed, wrapping his arms around her as the pair swayed side to side.

“Good to see you Murph.” He sighed, ruffling her hair kindly. They pulled away from each other and grinned, basking in their presence.

Noa sniffed, her eyes welling up. “It’s been too long Arthur, too fucking long.” She said, her voice choked with emotion.

Arthur nodded, taking a deep breath as he too started to become emotional. “You’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

Biting her lip, Noa wiped her eyes and held out an arm, so Chris could join in on their group hug. “The Jersey bitches are back together again.”

“We never were and never will be called that.” Chris muttered, as Noa gently whacked the back of his head.

“Just you wait, it’ll catch on.” She said, grinning. “God I can’t actually actually believe we’re all together again.”

“Agreed. And Noa you don’t know this, but Chris and I are kidnapping you now that you’re here.”

Chris nodded. “It’s true. You’re not leaving our sights again.”

Chuckling, Noa lovingly ruffled both of the boys’ hair. “So if I were to theoretically tell you that I wanted to do a PhD in Yale-“

“Nope not happening, never.” Arthur said quickly, bending down so that he could throw Noa over his shoulder, which she wasn’t too pleased about.

“TELEVISION! PUT ME DOWN!”

“No,” he said happily, “this is a kidnapping.”

————————————•———————————

Noa collapsed onto her freshly blown up air mattress, sighing contentedly. Even though most of her apartment was barren of furniture, decorations and overall character, there was a small glow of hope in her chest.

The place had potential. But what was even better than that was the fact that she had Chris and Arthur two floors below her, accompanied by their two other roommates whom she had yet to meet.

“You sure you don’t want help unpacking?” Arthur asked, setting the boxes marked ‘Kitchen’ on the small dining room table.

“Yeah, I’ll do it sometime tomorrow after the ikea trip.” She said, struggling to keep her eyes open on her mattress. Chris, noticing this nudged Arthur and gestured to the door with his head.

“You want to go around 11 tomorrow?”

“Sounds great guys, and thank you for all your help, really, thanks.” Noa said, standing up to give both of them another warm hug.

“Always Murph, we’re here for you.” Arthur replied, beaming.

“Now go get some sleep yeah? You look in desperate need of it.”

“Aye aye captain.” Noa said, saluting the two of them. “See you tomorrow guys.”

Chris and Arthur waved goodbye and headed towards the elevator, the pair stood in silence, however they could tell what the other was thinking.

“It really is good to have her back.” Arthur said happily, as the elevator arrived.

“And she’s acting like her old self again.” Chris agreed.”

“I think she’s gonna be really happy here.”

Back in their flat, George and Arthur Hill were mid argument.

“Yeah but can she really be that good of a friend if she fucked off to Scotland for four years?” George retorted, as a tired Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose whilst trying not to burn his toast.

“Yes, yes she can.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I trust Arthur and Chris’ character judgement, and from what they’ve told me it sounds as if she had stuff going on.” He replied shrugged.

George however, wasn’t convinced. “Surely if you’re a good friend you’d keep in contact? I mean, how hard is a text now and again? It’s not as if Chris and Arthur were shockingly busy. And having stuff can’t always be an excuse, surely she’d want to talk to them if they’re some of her closest friends.” He ranted from the sofa.

“George! For the last time, I don’t know the whole story, neither do you, so stop speculating.” Arthur said frustratedly. “I would have hoped that you could see how happy those two are that she’s close by now, and used the brain that I believe you have in there to know that she’s not the spawn of Satan.”

George, sensing he has lost this one held his arms up in defeat. “Fine, fine. But I’m not changing my tune until I meet her myself.”

“Yes, fine whatev-“ Arthur cut himself off at the sound of the front door opening. “Be nice.” He hissed at George, trying to re-enforce his ‘no nonsense’ message by pointing his knife at George, but he wasn’t taken wholly seriously due to the copious amounts of Nutella on the end.

“Be nice.” George mimicked, screwing his face up at Arthur as he rolled his eyes.

“Hiya!” Arthur called as he emerged round the corner with Chris in tow.

“Noa not with you?” Arthur (Hill) asked, causing George’s head to snap up.

“Nah, she’s exhausted, but you’ll get to meet her when we go to ikea!”

“How can she be tired after an hour and a half drive?” George asked, a skeptical undertone in his voice that earned him a glare from Hill.

“She only got four hours of sleep last night, and I’m guessing she was crashing from all the Monsters she had.” Chris answered, throwing himself on the sofa and picking up one of the PS5 controllers.

“Sounds as if she enjoys a healthy diet.” George snarked.

“Oh shut up George - he’s been like this all day Chris.” Arthur complained, moving to join Chris on the sofa.

“Are you not gonna use a plate?”

“No…why?”

“Because you’ll get crumbs and Nutella on the sofa dingbat.”

“How did you guys even meet Noa in the first place? Like, I get you all lived in Jersey and went to the same school, but she’s like four years younger than both of you.” George asked, taking a seat across from Chris.

“We were neighbours,” Chris replied, loading up a game of FIFA. “And her and Arthur’s parents are good friends, so yeah that’s all there is to it really.”

“All it took was one summer barbecue when we were kids, then we were practically inseparable.”

“Yeah, she’s like our little sister.”

“That’s cute and all, but right now I’d like to focus on beating Christopher’s arse at FIFA now.” George sighed, picking up the controller.

Arthur TV, confused at the comment glanced over at his fellow Arthur, who just shrugged, but then waved his phone in the air.

The two Arthurs nodded at each other, content at the conclusion they had come too, however uncertain at what it would lead to.

#george clarkey x reader #george clarke fics #george clarke imagine #george clarke #george clarkey #arthurtv #arthur frederick #arthur hill #chris md #chris dixon #youtube

[chrollohearttags]

CHARM’D • mikasa ackerman

your fiancée gets a new piercing and you decide to have some fun with it.

content + themes: nail tech!mikasa, black fem!reader, y/n is a lash tech, subby mika, her and y/n cracking jokes on each other, overstimulation, pillow humping, use of toys, scissoring, heavy squirting, fingering, bratty mika, gay bestie!armin cameo

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

most people would say working with your significant other seems like a great time. Being around the one person you love more then life itself and earning a living at the same time? You couldn’t ask for a better deal. However, it did have its challenging moments..discipline and focus is an important part of anyone’s employment. Regardless of the job but especially when tending to someone’s beauty and esthetic needs, it was imperative to pay attention. Hence why your fiancée despised the fact that you were working alongside her as her new lash tech some days! Granted, she was thrilled to have you around and with an extra service and set of hands around, you guys’ income practically tripled. So it was a pretty sweet deal. However, you didn’t make it easy…in fact, you acted as if giving her a hard time was your actual occupation..

“Are you sure we can’t just fill them in and work around it? C’mon, Mika. You sure you can’t just do your magic?”

“Sweetheart, how long have you been a client of mine? I’m an artist, not a repair woman. Two things I refuse to do is fly coach and work over other people’s fuck ups. Now let’s soak these off so I can give you a fresh set. While you’re waiting, Armin can get you in the shampoo bowl. Since he’s sitting on his skinny ass, doing nothing.”

needless to say, it was never a dull moment! You guys’ hairstylist and resident smartass, Armin Artlert was currently seated in one of the styling chairs, typing away on his phone.

“And don’t forget looking cute. Just blind and grouchy.”

“Whatever. Help her before I suddenly find your replacement.”

it was obvious that the normally laid back nail tech was in rare form this morning. Not so much rude or angry but definitely on edge a little. The shop was a little busy but nothing more than usual for the Sugar and Spice Haus. It was normal for clients to be waiting outside the door so she couldn’t have been frazzled by that. So what exactly had her acting so strange? Perhaps it was a question better answered by the one person who knew her better than anyone else..and who ironically was the root cause of the issue!

“Oh, don’t pay her any attention, y’all. She’s just a little worked up. Isn’t that right, baby?”

just then, a rather gleeful (y/n) would come traipsing from the back of the salon..strapless dress and sandals, holding a caddy full of lash supplies. In return, the only thing you were met with was a decorated middle finger and the roll of dark, doe eyes. Your fiancée was quite the bratty thing when she wanted to be but she was oh so cute….

“Oh shut up. I’m not talking to you right now.”

hence why you took immense pleasure in teasing her among other things..something that began long before the two of you even opened shop this morning..

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

flashback: earlier that morning..

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

“Oh God!…yes..right there!…”

“Aw, is that your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”

the high pitch, condescending coo spouting from your lips rang off into the ears of your very whiny and overstimulated fiancée. Who had just been sleep only twenty minutes prior or so it would appear. Because as the two of you awoke for the morning, ready to start another day in the home and salon you shared as not only lovers, but business partners…you were met with a rather pleasant surprise. Faint whimpers and the sight of your precious Mikasa grinding herself against her pillow. Her tits spilling from her tank top; fondled in her palms, hair brushing against the sheets and her panties tugged to the side as her bare slit rubbed profusely against the memory foam material. She had to have been in utter bliss from the sounds erupting from her mouth. Not only that, she looked so sexy..however, you knew it was rather unbecoming of your woman too. Granted, your sex life was anything but mundane and the two of you took any opportunity plausible to fuck, lick or kiss on one another. However, for the past few days or so, she seemed to be evading you. Claiming to be far too exhausted for any sort of sexual activity. She’d shower alone and even halt you if things got too intense. One would think that was indicative of infidelity and that their partner was with someone else. But alas, her dirty little secret came to light and needless to say, you’d return the pent up sexual frustration ten fold!..

“Oh? What’s this?…” she just knew that once you unveiled the truth, you’d never allow her to live it down. And she was correct.

“(Y/N)..baby…fuck me!..”

the truth was, she had snuck behind your back and acquired a clit piercing. More than likely from the same artist who had decorated her skin in the plethora of tattoos she sported. But what she hadn’t counted on was becoming so hypersensitive afterwards. It was one of those things that could go either way, depending on the person. Getting piercings in intimate area could either make you lose all feeling or make you super sensitive to the touch. For poor Mikasa, she was the latter to a fault! You would’ve thought that she would’ve learned her lesson when she got her nipples pierced and they sent her into a frenzy with something as simple as putting on a bra on. But you were more than happy to meet her request..flipping her over onto her back, (y/n) promptly shoved your tongue into her mouth; jaw agape and slack from being on the brink of climax. Her pierced nipples puffy and erect and of course..that adorable little clit; marked with a silver ball and bar going through it. It looked so cute and she looked even more precious..practically begging for you to claim her. Slick surrounded that fat pussy of hers and you just knew she was close.

“Oh you poor thing…you’ve been holding out on me…don’t worry, mama. I’ll take care of you..”

reassuring her with your lips honing on her neck. Tender kisses trailing down her throat and those fingers following suit to her mound. Tracing your digits across her freshly waxed skin, you’d tease around the area, refusing to touch the actual bud. “But first..I need you to do sum’ for me, okay?” So gently cooing to her. At this point, she was desperate so she was at your mercy.

“Yes, baby!..whatever you want..”

crying out as you moved your fingertips lower as well as your mouth, leaving them to hover over her jeweled nipples. Drawing a long trail of saliva along with you in the process. That’s when you’d shove those two opposite fingers between her lips and force her to suckle, drumming up her own spit. “Suck on these f’r me. Get them wet…just like that.” She’d happily comply, knowing that you’d help her reach her peak soon. Whilst she was busy drooling and whining, you’d ease one digit inside of her with your thumb resting on her clit. She looked so helpless and vulnerable..turning you on more and more by the second. Mikasa’s back would raise from the bed as you pushed those digits knuckle deep into her core. You’d feel them suction and tighten around you and continue pressing until they were stained with a sheath of milky white and sticky clear liquid..dripping all down your nails. You kept them short just for special instances like these. So you could pump them in and out her pretty pussy and watch her squirm, yelping for more.

“Ah! Haaaa…oh my god! Right there! Yes…”

“Aw, am I in your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”

nodding her head profusely; your dormant thumb now tracing circles against her clit and even flicking that piercing for added stimulation. Needless to say, she couldn’t hold back any longer and seconds later, when you finally gave her permission, you’d find your arm, the sheets and anything surrounding you two drenched in her juices. Squirting everywhere..and became inconsolable afterwards. “That’s it!…let it go, let it go for meee..squirt on those fingers.” Encouraging with loud cries ringing out through the bedroom. She was practically convulsing once you withdrew your fingers. Allowing them to drip, you’d dangle them over her lips and allow her to clean them off. “Mmmhm..taste yourself, baby…you look so pretty.”

running a hand along her torso and up to her throat yet again to wrangle her in for a kiss. Haven gotten a taste of her sweet essence, you decided to get your entire fill by finally leaving a trail of pecks leading to her pelvis before tousling your own side of the covers off and climbing on top of her. Without missing a step, you’d part her inked up legs and pin one back whilst intertwining the other with your own. From there, you’d tear off the thin lacy panties she was wearing off and put them to much practical use like gagging her. From there, you’d align your frothing slits and start grinding them against one another. Tugging down your own sports bra; dressed in only a bonnet and having fallen asleep with nothing on your lower half, you had become well aroused on your own from her little escapades. With that, Mika would buck her hips forward and work herself against you; meeting your thrusting with tearful pleas to keep fucking her. “Don’t stop, baby! Please don’t fucking stop…” her voice was cracking but her words very concise and clear. Those perky tits bounced around underneath as she gripped the silk linen underneath your bodies. The smacking of your clammy folds and warmth made for a beautiful chorus of steamy, nasty sounds filling the atmosphere…she wasn’t the only one feeling the pressure either because you soon found yourself nearing an orgasm. “I’m gonna come too, mama…fuck! You feel so good..”

laughing out of pure delirium and pleasure, unable to slow down in fear that you’d come on the spot. Those sticky juices smeared across each of your thick thighs as those lower lips meshed together. Eventually, you’d find yourself leaning down to let your tongues clash as well. “Mmph! I love you…” “I love you too, Mika! Fuck, baby…come for me again..”

just then, she’d follow your order and flail around as another stream of juices exited both of your bodies. Spraying up everything in the vicinity. Rubbing those finger pads against her throbbing bud, (y/n) drummed out more and more until she couldn’t spill another drop. You found yourselves going round for round..drawing out one another’s arousal and all that you had to offer. An hour or so had past; an array of positions from being seated on her face while you ate her out, to riding a double sided dildo…

“Yes, baby! You look so pretty riding that fucking dick..go deeper..”

to finally ended your rather heated session with your fingers intertwined as you played with yourselves. Massaging those clots to your final climatic rushes. Coming down in a powerful high with tears streaming down your faces and squirt pooling down your legs. All in all, it seemed that her little piercing was a success and rather useful investment.. “C’mere..that feel good?..” “..yeah..thank you, baby..so much.” Fucked out and dazed from being overly stimulated. But neither of you regretted a thing..that was until you made another proposal with a deviant glare on your face..reaching over into the dresser, you’d retrieve another device: a controller vibrator. One you planned to utilize on her throughout the work day!

“Hell no, (y/n)! I can’t..”.

but it was too late..you had already placed it inside of her and would be utilizing it until you had your fill. You wanted to see how she fared with her little body modification when you were the one in control..and throughout an entire day of work.

maybe next time she wouldn’t keep such secrets from you!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@soanis @merakidoll

#aot x black reader #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x black reader #mikasa x reader #mikasa aot #snk mikasa #nail tech mikasa #attack on titan mikasa #aot au #fem x fem #black reader smut #aot smut #mikasa smut #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa ackerman x you #snk smut #black fem reader #black reader #black fanfiction #aot drabbles #snk drabble #snk imagines #attack on titan #attack on titan au #aot modern au #modern au #snk au #cw smut #cw body modification #body piercing

[jongseongsnudes]

kiss me

bff!jake. 1.6k words. suggestive with a bratty you and a horny jake sim. (part two) (part three)

“hey.”

silence.

“jake.”

more silence.

“jake sim!”

“what?” he says nonchalantly back at you, his eyes still plastered on the screen ahead as his fingers continued tapping away at the keyboard, “what is it? i’m playing-”

“can we go to bed... it’s almost 3 in the morning...”

and the silence continues.

you could only sigh at yourself, knowing just how much he loved gaming but you had hoped he would at least spend a bit of time with you tonight. especially after not seeing each other for the past week.

after an entire week of losing sleep and stressing over assignments, you wanted nothing more than to watch your favourite show while eating take out with your bestie. being with him put you weirdly at ease, his random dad jokes comforted you and his embrace put you to sleep faster than anything.

and he knew this!

yet here you were, having sat on his bed for the past 3 hours while he gamed away with the boys. how someone could stay so focused on the screen for 3 hours, you have no idea but you were now too tired to wait anymore.

“yeah- yeah you go sleep first, i still need to back the 02z boys up in this bitch-” he doesn’t bother looking at you as he says so before muttering off, “turn off the lights if you want.”

sigh.

you came here for a good night sleep and you were going to get it. one way or another.

so you come up with a plan, a rather evil plan you know would have a 98% chance of working in your favour.

a punishment more like it but he doesn’t need to know that.

“alright i’m gonna sleep first then,” you get off the bed and slip out of your over sized shirt, leaving on just your booty shorts and a crop top that barely did its job at covering your hardened nipples.

walking over to your best friend’s desk, you slightly lean over his shoulder to grab his can of soda, making sure to rub your chest on him. just a little. and luckily for you, the man was already in a thin singlet himself so the skin to skin contact immediately caught his attention.

if there’s one thing you know about your best friend is that although he’s no longer a 16 year old boy going through puberty, the man was just always horny. a perv.

on so many occasions, you had caught him staring at you a little too inappropriately. sometimes the man was even daring enough to place a hand on your ass whenever you’d cuddle with him in bed.

but never did you complain because it wasn’t like you didn’t secretly enjoy the attention anyway.

jake is hot, everyone knows that but you weren’t going to admit that to him. not with that big head of his.

“sorry. thirsty,” you take a sip from his almost empty can and release a very unnecessary moan, knowing that the man’s attention was now entirely on you, “damn. i’m gonna grab another.”

you don’t miss the sudden tent in his boxers or rather, it was hard to miss the big bulge that was caused by you. you want to laugh so badly, knowing that your plan was already working.

gently squeezing the back of his neck, you then walk out of the room, a smug grin now on your own face. you’re almost 100% sure that he’s watching you walk away, probably confused to why you’re practically naked in his apartment. yeah you’re comfortable with each other but you’ve always had a top on at the very least.

grabbing a can of beer instead, you hop up on the countertop to wait for the ending of your plan to play out. and as expected, the little puppy really does follow you into the kitchen. he doesn’t say anything but his gaze on your exposed skin was enough to tell you what he was thinking.

he likes what he’s seeing and so do you.

you’ve always found him attractive. from the moment you met him in your first year of college until now, jake sim just had to be the literal definition of your perfect type.

but you’ve never dared to cross that line, the thin line between friendship and there after. because not only was he your bestest friend but the man didn’t seem all that interested in you anyway.

“what’s up? i thought you were gaming?” you say so nonchalantly, even tilting your head like you weren’t already expecting this.

“i uh- um-” he seems distracted to say the very least, his eyes unable to detach themselves from your chest, “nothing. i’m done playing.”

mission success.

the familiar smell of his shampoo immediately fills the air as the man invades your space, a scent you’ve come to love. a scent that drove your mind totally insane.

“are you okay though? you seem... out of it?”

“probably just tired,” he inches even closer to you, his body now practically standing in between your spread thighs. his hands reaches out to rest on either sides of you, his face just inches away as he looks into your eyes.

there’s something different in his eyes tonight, compared to how he usually looks at you. they’re dark and dare you say... seemingly hungry for something.

“yeah? you’re not sick are you?” you pretend to be concerned, feeling his forehead but to your surprise, the man was actually burning under your touch, “wait oh my god, you’re burning. are you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

jake’s voice was already usually low but this tone was something else. one that’s causing an immediate damp spot in your panties.

“okay... then should we go to bed? maybe you just need some sleep, jake sim.”

the visible gulp he makes from the way you say his full name further tells you that you’re close. close to your end goal.

“yeah maybe,” his eyes remain on you as his hand inches closer to your thigh, only slightly grazing the side. he looks slightly hesitant, as if testing the waters and you don’t blame him because you’re doing the same.

“want some? i can’t finish it,” you hand him the beer can, in which he takes and in one single gulp, finishes it. you’ve seen him do that so many times before but just something about this time is making you feel so hot.

you wait for him to move away but the man wraps his arms around your waist instead, pulling you flat against him. you gasp at the sudden move and wrap your own arms around his neck to stable yourself, a move you definitely know he appreciated with the way he’s smirking.

“lets get you to bed, beautiful,” his choice of petname gets you more worked up than you already were, your little act on the very brink of collasping. but you’re unsure if this was even acting anymore... because this was definitely not in your plan.

your legs naturally wrap around him as he carries you off the countertop with such ease. it feels so comfortable to be in his arms, like your body was meant for him to hold.

no one says a thing the entire way to the bedroom but it wasn’t needed. the way he’s watching you and the obvious tension that filled the air told you that perhaps your attraction wasn’t exactly one sided.

jake places you down amongst his sheets not long after and hovers over, freely pressing himself onto you. his hands quickly find their spot on your waist, his fingers gripping into your skin as if scared you were going to run away.

“you’re beautiful,” his head dips into the crook of your neck as he says so, his lips so dangerously close to your skin but he doesn’t go any further. as if teasing you, “so, so fucking beautiful.”

“jake...”

“god when you say my name like that- fuck you’re killing me,” he finally looks up at you again, this time going straight in to kiss you. no pause, no hesitation.

it takes a moment for you to realise that jake was actually kissing you, that this was real and not one of the fantasises you always had about him.

it feels like an explosion inside your body, a feeling you have never gotten from kissing anyone else. not even your ex boyfriends.

it feels so right to kiss him though and that fact scared you.

the man moves away only slightly, just enough for you to catch your breath as he places his forehead against yours.

“tell me to stop and i will,” his tone is stern, a tone you don’t hear much from someone like jake, “or i won’t be able to stop myself.”

the grey area was something you’ve always been afraid of, the thought of a ruined friendship always plaguing your brain. yet in this very moment, you know damn well yourself that this was no longer acting, that this wasn’t apart of your stupid game anymore.

but this was real and your next response was the decider of the relationship between you and jake sim.

“kiss me.”

to be continued.

​2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

#jongseongsnudes #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen fanfic #enhypen drabble #enhypen reaction #enhypen smut #enhypen jake #jake sim #jake sim smut #jake sim fanfic #jake sim fic #jake sim hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enha #enhypen hard hours #jake hard hours #jake smut #jake fanfic #jake imagine #jake fic #jake x reader #sim jaeyun #jaeyun fic #jaeyun smut

[theostrophywife]

stop the world i wanna get off with you.

pairing: theodore nott x reader. song inspiration: stop the world i wanna get off with you by arctic monkeys. author’s note: the theo brain rot is so real for me besties. i kid you not i listened to the song on repeat while writing this because my mans is arctic monkeys coded. plus, it was only a matter of time before we saw some smutty action from my favorite slutherin 😏 part one: baby won't you be my girl?

You were not a morning person. 

Theo knew that. Hell, everyone in Slytherin knew that. Waking you up before noon on the weekend was a one way ticket to a world of pain. For some reason, your boyfriend was determined to make the top of your hit list this morning. 

You groaned as Theo shifted beneath you, rousing you from sleep. He stroked your hair gently and pressed a kiss on your temple. “I have to go to practice, amorina.” 

Sunlight streamed in through the skylight above Theo’s dorm, reflecting the rippling waves of the Black Lake across your boyfriend’s goose down comforter. You buried your head in the crook of his neck. 

“Five more minutes,” you mumbled against his throat, relishing in his warmth. “Please, Teddy.”

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “You said that five minutes ago, sweetheart. Do you want your sweet and sexy boyfriend to be maimed by his captain?”

“If Malfoy so much as touches a hair on your head, I’ll turn him into a ferret again and set him loose in the Forbidden Forest.” You snuggled closer and twined your legs together. “Let’s see how threatening he can be against Aragog.”

“Sometimes you genuinely scare me, Y/N.” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “But apparently, fear is a very effective aphrodisiac for me. I’m learning a lot of new things about myself.”

“I can threaten you some more if you want,” you murmured sleepily. “As long as you stay in bed with me, Teddy.”

Theo groaned as you kissed his neck. “You’re absolutely cruel, you know that?” He tilted your chin up, pressing his lips against yours. You sighed dreamily into the kiss, morning breath and all. 

Even though you’ve only been officially dating for three months, it felt like you and Theo had been together for a lifetime. You were already inseparable before, but after his confession at the quidditch game after party, you spent nearly every waking moment together. Hence waking up in his bed. 

Theo placed a final kiss on the tip of your nose. “Now I really have to go.” You sighed in defeat, pouting like a petulant child. Your boyfriend laughed. “I’ll see you in the stands, babe.”

“Fine,” you mumbled grumpily. 

You watched as Theo hastily threw on his quidditch uniform, admiring the view of his sunkissed skin and toned chest and abs. Thank Merlin for quidditch. 

The cheeky tosser winked before heading for the pitch. You turned over in bed, burying yourself in Theo’s scent as you drifted back to sleep. 

Several hours later, you finally managed to get dressed and dragged yourself to the Great Hall for a late lunch. When you got to your usual table, you found the boys and Pansy waiting for you. Draco and Mattheo were talking in hushed tones, no doubt discussing their strategy to destroy the Ravenclaws while Enzo scarfed down a plate of steak and eggs like his life depended on it. Pansy watched in disgust, wrinkling her nose at your friend. 

“For Salazar’s sake, Lorenzo. You’re going to choke to death and I refuse to resuscitate you.”

“Don’t worry, Enzo,” you said as you slid in next to him. “I’m sure we can find a volunteer to perform mouth to mouth on you.”

As if on cue, a gaggle of fourth years giggled at the end of the table. Enzo didn’t seem to notice. Beside him, Blaise met your eye and shook his head. The two of you often joked that Draco took all the arrogance in their family’s gene pool, leaving poor Enzo hopelessly oblivious. The fact that sweet Lorenzo was related to someone as arrogant as Malfoy never failed to completely baffle the mind. 

“Well don���t you look adorable, Y/N?” Draco drawled. “All decked out in your boyfriend’s jersey.”

You looked down at the emerald and silver jersey with the number 6 embroidered on the front, which was so big on you that the hem hit your knees. Matching streaks of your house colors adorned your cheeks and you had pulled your hair back with a pair of charmed serpent clips that writhed through your pigtails every so often.

“And up before mid afternoon, no less,” Mattheo commented. 

You frowned, flicking him off before reaching for a sandwich. “Speaking of my boyfriend. Where is the little rascal?”

“Last I checked he was still on the pitch,” Draco said as you stuffed a few chips into your mouth. “Practicing to show off in front of you, I imagine.”

“I’ve seen him play before.” 

Mattheo stole a chip from your plate. “Yes, but not as his girlfriend.”

You smacked his hand away and he gasped dramatically. Mattheo fetched something out of his robes and set it down in front of you. The small glass vial shimmered in the light. 

“Your boyfriend wanted me to give you this.” 

A motion sickness draught. Theo knew how queasy and nauseous you got during his quidditch games, so he’d concocted your own special cure for it. Hot and smart. Gods, you were lucky.

You flushed, pocketing the potion. “Thanks.”

“You idiots better win,” Pansy said. “Or else all my hard work for tonight’s after party will go to waste.”

Draco scoffed. “You mean our hard work?” He turned over to you, frowning. “Pans over here had us working harder than a house elf. I’ve got glitter in places glitter should never be.”

“Fitting for someone who thinks the sun shines out of his arse. Maybe it’ll finally teach you some humility, Malfoy.”

Mattheo draped an arm around your shoulder. “You know why our sweet little Pansy’s got her wand in a twist though, right?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “She finally plucked up the courage to invite a certain Ravenclaw to the after party.”

You squealed in delight. “Is that true, Pans? Did you finally ask Luna out?”

Pansy glared at you, practically hissing as she grabbed your elbow. “Say that a little louder, why don’t you? I don’t think they heard you across the room.” 

You snorted. Your best friend has always been a little tightly wound, but Pansy Parkinson with a crush was a whole different animagus. 

“Well, I, for one, am excited for this development in your love life,” you exclaimed, squeezing her shoulder. “It’s about time you did something about this little crush.”

“Says the witch who took twelve years to admit her feelings,” Pansy said with an affectionate eye roll. “Sorry love, but I’m not taking advice from you.”

“I’m choosing to attribute that to first date jitters and not a blatant insult against your best and most loyal friend.” You picked at your sandwich, waving a pickle in the air excitedly. “Don’t be nervous, Pans. She’s going to love you.” 

The encouragement was met with an elbow to your ribs. You paused mid-chew, ready to give Pansy a peace of your mind when a soft voice interrupted you. 

“Hi, guys,” greeted Luna Lovegood. She wore a striped blue and bronze sweater, representing the colors of her house. Strapped to her back was a set of feathered eagle wings that nearly dragged to the floor. “I love your snake clips, Y/N. It’s always great to see displays of house spirit. Beware of the nargles, though. They do love shiny things.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for them, Luna.” You said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to your commentary tonight. It’s going to be a heated match between our houses, but one thing’s for certain. The after party will be absolutely mental no matter who wins. Isn’t that right, Pans?” 

Pansy nodded, the action making her sleek bob graze her sharp cheekbones. You always thought that your friend possessed an austere sort of beauty, but everything about her seemed to soften as she turned her attention on Luna. 

“We can still count on you to make it tonight, right Lovegood?” There was a hint of playfulness in Pansy’s tone that you rarely heard her use. You couldn’t help but smirk. Pansy Parkinson fancied the absolute pants out of Luna Lovegood.

Luna smiled shyly, hiding beneath a strand of platinum blonde hair. “Thank you for the invitation, Pansy. I look forward to seeing everyone tonight.” 

“See you tonight, Luna.”

Luna gave your table a friendly wave before returning to her own fellow Ravenclaws. You waited until she was out of ear shot before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“See you tonight Luna,” you repeated, putting on your best impression of Pansy’s husky voice. “Pansy Parkinson’s totally going to snog Luna Lovegood tonight!” 

“Oh, shut up,” replied Pansy. She tried her best to look annoyed, but the small smile on her face made it rather unconvincing. 

After teasing your friend for at least another hour, the two of you finally headed down to the quidditch pitch. The boys left long ago, presumably to warm up before the big game. You followed Pansy into the stands, cringing slightly at how high up the seats were. 

Across the pitch, the feedback from Luna’s sonoroused voice rumbled through the crowd. “Welcome fellow students. Join me in kicking off this long awaited match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, the house of yours truly. As always, the goal is to provide live updates and unbiased commentary throughout the game, but I make no promises. Even a Corkendoodle wouldn’t be able to resist showing a little partiality. Now without further ado, let the games begin!”

The crowd roared as players from each side soared through the air at breakneck speed. You gripped the railing, thankful for Theo’s concoction as you squinted at the blur of players. As always, Madam Hooch kicked off the game by releasing a set of bludgers and the elusive golden snitch. With bated breath, you watched as she threw the quaffle into the air which marked the official start of the match. 

A familiar figure zoomed past you, emerald robes streaming behind him as he caught the quaffle and cradled it under his arm. Theo circled through the air, easily outmaneuvering the chasers from the opposing team. He flew straight for a blonde Ravenclaw, making the poor fifth year think that they were going to collide before he swerved at the last second and looped around the frightened player. 

“And that’s Nott of Slytherin with an excellent fake out,” Luna announced in her dreamy voice. “Oddly enough, this chaser is heading in the opposite direction of the goalposts. Another clever tactic, I presume.”

Theo brought his broom to a stop directly in front of you, hovering in mid-air while he cradled the quaffle underneath one arm. He immediately broke out into a grin when he saw you wearing his jersey. 

“In a turn of events, Nott visits the Slytherin stands for a little chat with his friends,” commented Luna. “Actually, that’s his lovely girlfriend Y/N. I did warn her about attracting the Nargles, but nevertheless those serpent clips are a work of art. Oh look, there’s Pansy Parkinson! I know she looks a bit intimidating at first, but she’s really quite nice.” 

Beside you, Pansy turned as red as a tomato. You stifled a giggle just as Theo pulled close, his watercolor eyes crinkling with amusement. 

“My jersey looks good on you, Y/N.” Theo drawled, taking the time to flirt despite the fact that he was currently in the middle of a game. He leaned in and whispered low so only you could hear, “But I bet it would look even better on my floor.”

“Win this match and you might get your wish, babe.”

A smirk curved against his lips. “You evil little temptress. I hope you know that I’m holding you to that,” he inched closer, his gaze dropping to your mouth. “Do I at least get a kiss from my good luck charm?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something right now? Like, I don't know, playing the bloody quidditch game!”

He shrugged, winking at you in that cheeky way of his. “I’m perfectly capable of multitasking.” 

Just then, a bludger whizzed past the stands, but Theo was entirely unbothered as he flipped over on his broom to avoid the hit. Your boyfriend hung upside down, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. “Now about that kiss, dolcezza.”

“That’s quite a creative way to avoid a bludger,” Luna continued. “I once hung upside down in a tree in search of moon frogs and it wasn’t the most comfortable position, but not the most uncomfortable either. Oh! It looks like things are heating up for this lovely couple.”

“You’re an absolute menace, Theodore,” you said with an exasperated sigh before pulling him by the collar and kissing him. The logistics were complicated by the fact that he was currently airborne, but Theo smiled against your lips all the same. 

“A good luck kiss,” Luna said with delight. “Those two are absolutely adorable, aren’t they? Ah, young love.”

Satisfied, Theo flipped right side up and palmed the quaffle in his hand. “You hear that, babe? We’re absolutely adorable.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. Now go out there and kick some Ravenclaw arse!”

Thanks to Teddy’s potion, you actually managed to keep your eyes open for the entirety of the game. It was a heated match with both teams playing with equal ferocity, but the boys had the upper hand. They moved as one, predicting each other’s moves from years and years of practice. Even the newest additions, Violet and Tracey, seemed to fit seamlessly into the group. 

By the time you reached the tail end of the game, your throat felt raw from cheering and screaming. Pansy was in a worse state, hurling insults when one of the Ravenclaw beaters attempted to grab the tail end of Blaise’s broom. 

“That was obviously a bloody fucking foul!” Pansy screamed. 

“Some colorful words from the Slytherin stands,” Luna said with a little smile, making Pansy blush. “Madam Hooch seems to agree. Robinson has been fouled for blagging Zabini.”

You gripped the end of the railing as Theo zoomed past. The score was tied, but if he made this goal it would put Slytherin up by ten points, effectively winning not only the game but also the Quidditch Cup.

“You got this, babe,” you yelled. “No mercy, Teddy!”

Theo met your gaze and smirked. Vicious woman, he mouthed before careening straight for the goalpost. 

The Ravenclaw keeper looked panicked as Theo dodged the other players and reeled the quaffle back. The shot was perfect, whizzing past the post so fast that the keeper didn’t even have time to react. 

“Nott with the winning shot!” Luna announced cheerily. “That’s game, everyone. Congratulations to this year’s Quidditch Cup winner: Slytherin House!”

The cheers that erupted from your housemates followed you all the way to the common room. In true Pansy fashion, the large space had been meticulously decorated with banners and streamers. The music blared and the liquor flowed, marking the start of a night of mischief and revelry. 

While waiting for the boys to finish showering, you helped Pansy play hostess. You greeted friends from other houses, filling their cups with your signature concoction. A fruity drink that masked the taste of liquor so well that the drinker didn’t realize they were pissed until it was too late. 

“Congratulations on the win,” said a familiar voice. You turned around and saw Murdock raising his green cup in a toast. 

You smiled, clinking your plastic cup against his. “Thanks Christoph. Good to see you here,” you lowered your voice, darting your head around the corner. “So things are going well with Daphne?”

Christoph smiled shyly. “Yeah, thanks for introducing us by the way. We’re going on our first date to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow.” 

After his last disastrous attendance at a Slytherin party, you figured it was the least you could do for your Hufflepuff friend. “Don’t mention it, Christoph. What are friends for? Besides, it’s obvious that you two would be absolutely perfect together.” 

“Who’s absolutely perfect together?” A familiar voice drawled. You felt an arm wrap protectively around you. “Besides us, of course.” 

Even before you were dating, Theo had a tendency to be overprotective towards you. Most of the time he was pretty good at controlling it, but sometimes his jealousy got the best of him. It would’ve annoyed you if it wasn’t so damn attractive. 

“Hey babe,” you said with a little smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I was just telling Christoph here that he should offer Daphne a drink. They’d make a cute couple, don’t you think?”

Realization flooded Theo’s features, followed by a hint of embarrassment. “Definitely,” he said with a rueful smile. “Take it from me, mate. Don’t wait too long before chasing after the girl of your dreams.”

Christoph nodded, looking determined. “Thanks, mate.”

You handed your friend another cup and pointed him in Daphne’s direction. Beside you, Theo smiled sheepishly. His hair was slightly wet from the shower and he smelled like sea salt spray and smoke. The cozy knitted sweater he had thrown on brought out his watercolor eyes. 

“Nice save, babe.” 

“What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic,” Theo said, placing his hands on your waist. “You bring it out of me, cara mia.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “You know, I’d be mad if jealous Theo wasn’t so hot.” Theo grinned as you placed your arms around his neck. “But scoring that winning goal? That was downright sexy.”

Your boyfriend toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Oh yeah? Well, I had some motivation, thanks to our little bargain.” His hands slipped underneath your shirt, tracing teasing circles on your hips. “I delivered on my end. Now it’s time for you to pay up, love.” 

“Good things come to those who wait, Theo.” 

Theo pouted. “Fine, but only because I know you’re worth it.”

You pulled Theo in by the belt loop and kissed him, long and hard. He lifted you up and groaned as you tugged at his curls. Theo sighed into your mouth as you took control, showing him exactly how much you wanted him. You topped the kiss off by gently biting on his bottom lip. When you pulled away, Theo looked dazed. 

“Fuck,” he said in a low, dark voice. 

“A little preview,” you said with a smirk. “Just so you don’t think I’m completely heartless.”

“So my dorm or yours?”

You chuckled. “Theo, you haven’t even made your rounds. This party is to celebrate your win, you know.”

“Fuck the party,” he said dismissively. “You think I care about talking to all of these people after that? What do you want, love? Do you want me to beg? Get on my knees for you? I’ll do anything, princess.”

Salazar fucking save you. 

You would’ve taken Theo up on the offer, but this was his moment. He deserved to be celebrated. Besides, he’d be all yours by the end of the night. 

“As much as I love the visual,” you said, pecking him on the cheek. “I want you to celebrate with the team. You lot deserve it after working so hard all year.” You lowered your voice, whispering in his ear. “After that, we can go up to your dorm and I’ll give you your reward. Think you can do that, babe?”

“Yes ma’am,” Theo replied. “God you’re fucking sexy when you’re bossing me around.” 

You smirked. “Good boy.” 

Theo groaned before slipping his hand into yours. “Now come on, before I change my mind and claim my reward right here, right now.”

The two of you made rounds through the party, stopping here and there to talk to your respective friends. Most of the time, you were by Theo’s side watching in admiration as everyone congratulated him on the winning goal. 

Even in deep conversation, Theo never stopped touching you. Whether it was the soothing rub of his thumb across your knuckles or his arm draped protectively around your waist, it was obvious that physical touch was your boyfriend’s love language. 

You couldn’t help but smile at how easy it came to him, like touching you was as natural as breathing air.  

“What’s that smile for, love?”

“I just really fucking fancy you.”

Merlin’s bloody beard. The smile on Theo’s face completely took your breath away. His eyes, which you often joked gave him resting witch face, lit up brighter than the sun. 

“I really fucking fancy you too, darling.”

Finally, the two of you reached your friends on the other side of the common room. Blaise and Enzo were engaged in a competitive game of beer pong against Mattheo and Draco. 

“The man of the hour,” Malfoy announced, clapping Theo on the back. “You fucking killed it out there, mate.” He turned back to the other boys. “We all did.”

“This calls for a celebratory shot!” you announced. “Wait, where’s Pans?”

Mattheo smirked. “Chatting up our commentator. Looks like our little Pansy’s all grown up.”

Across the room, you shot Pansy a wink as she and Luna sat rather close together, huddled on the couch and giggling every so often. You rallied the boys, raising your cups in a cheer. Pansy affectionately flipped you the bird as all six of you hooted and hollered, but she downed the liquor nonetheless. 

The firewhisky must have been a fast acting agent of liquid courage because not even a second after she set her cup down, Pansy was kissing Luna. You squealed in delight while the rest of the group drunkenly cheered. 

This night just kept getting better and better. 

“Another one of our finest lost to young love,” Draco announced dramatically. 

You rolled your eyes. “You could be too if you stopped being a coward and finally asked Hermione out.” 

Malfoy nearly spat out his drink. “Granger? You think I fancy Granger? Little miss know it all, member of the Golden Trio, poster child Gryffindor Granger? Are you taking the piss, Y/N?”

“Oh please,” Mattheo said with a scoff. “We all see the way you look at her in the Great Hall. You don’t just fancy Granger. You’re absolutely smitten, mate.”

Enzo nodded empathetically. “Mattheo’s right, cousin. You should just ask Hermione out on a date.”

“Have you lot forgotten that the madwoman once punched me in the face?” 

“I think she’d be good for you,” you said. “Set you straight.” 

“Set me straight?” Draco repeated. “I don’t need anyone to set me straight. Especially not Granger. I mean, the witch is insufferable with her stupid curly hair and stupid big brown eyes and stupid flawless skin.” 

Blaise sighed. “No offense, mate, but you’re even thicker than Enzo when it comes to girls.”

Enzo protested in response, but Draco was too busy having a meltdown to notice. His pale complexion blossomed with red as his mouth gaped open. “Do I like Granger?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, you blubbering idiot.” 

Draco glared at you, then at Theo. “Nott, please get your girlfriend away from me before I have a full on fit.”

Theo only laughed, pulling you closer. “Gladly. We were heading out anyway.” 

You hugged your friends goodbye. Draco was still frowning at his drink when you and Theo finally headed out of the common room. 

“Think about it, ferret boy,” you hollered from the door. “Granger’s a catch! We could use more female presence in this absolute sausage party of a friend group.” 

With that, Theo hauled you over his shoulder. You squealed, pinching his bum as he carried you out of the common room. “Alright, love. That’s enough of that.” 

When you finally reached Theo’s dorm, the two of you fell over in absolute hysterics. You plopped down on his bed, spreading like an obnoxious starfish. Theo followed after, diving on top of you. 

“I think you gave Malfoy an identity crisis,” he said, laughing into your hair. 

You shrugged, rolling over so that you were on top of him. “He deserved it.” 

Theo toyed with the hem of your shirt, tracing circles on your hips. “And what about what I deserve?” 

“It’s coming, babe,” you said with a sly smile. “And pretty soon you will be too.”

“Don’t tease, cara mia.”

“I never tease,” you purred. “I only promise.”

With a satisfied smirk, you pressed your lips against his. Theo groaned into your mouth as you straddled his lap, deepening the kiss. Large hands roamed underneath your shirt, his palms rough and calloused from hours and hours of playing quidditch.

A sinfully delicious moan slipped past Theo’s lips as you trailed kisses along his jaw, throat, and neck. You sucked on his flesh, hard enough to leave marks. You liked knowing that every time he changed, little reminders of you littered his skin.

“Bloody fucking hell,” Theo muttered.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Theo,” you teased. “I bet I could shut you up though.”

Your boyfriend groaned like he was in pain. “Please do.”

You winked before disappearing underneath the covers. Theo’s eyes fluttered close as you continued kissing down his chest, taking the time to trace your name on his abs with your tongue, which seemed to be a real crowd pleaser. You stripped off his trousers, kissing his perfectly defined v line before licking a teasing stripe along the underside of his cock.

“Figlio di puttana,” Theo cursed, low and rough. Your knees nearly buckled. There was truly nothing hotter than your boyfriend swearing in Italian. “Don’t stop, Y/N.”

“What was that you said about delivering on my promise?” you asked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. “Because it feels like I’m giving you the winner treatment right now, doesn’t it baby?”

A choked moan was your only response as you took him into your mouth. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat, bobbing your head up and down in a steady rhythm. Theo fisted your hair in his hands, watching through heavy lids as you sucked your cheeks in. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, stroking your cheek. “But I’m willing to die a happy man.”

You chuckled, sending vibrations to his sensitive head. Theo twitched against your cheek as you gripped his shaft, moving along with your mouth. He continued to curse colorfully while you wrapped your lips around him. You felt him tense underneath you, signaling that he was close. 

Theo tugged lightly at your scalp. “I don’t want to cum yet,” he said huskily. “Not until I’m inside of you.” 

Merlin bless your boyfriend and his filthy fucking mouth. Theo flipped you over, his body pinning you to the mattress as he kissed you roughly. You gasped against his mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue in. Heat pooled in your core and flooded your body with desire. 

“Theo,” you mumbled, tugging at his shirt. “I need you. Now.” 

He ripped off his shirt, grinning. “Then have me, darling.” 

“I want to be on top.” 

You squealed as Theo rolled over, placing you on his lap. He gripped your hips and gently rolled against you. “I’m not about to argue with that.”

With a smirk, you toyed with the hem of your shirt. Theo grabbed your wrist and shook his head. “Keep it on. I want to watch you ride me while wearing my jersey.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your filthy mouth?” 

Theo grinned before latching his lips on your breast. He looked up at you and swirled his tongue around your nipple through the fabric. “It’s not ringing a bell. Shall I try the other side?” 

“Gods, yes.” 

He gave your other nipple equal attention as you lined his cock up at your entrance. Precum coated his tip, mixing with your own slick as you slowly lowered onto his length. Theo’s teeth sank into your collarbone, muffling his moan. 

“Fuck me,” he exhaled in a shaky breath. 

“I am, baby.”

Theo chuckled darkly. “Smartass.”

You rolled your hips as he gripped your ass, helping you lift and lower at a faster pace. Theo’s mouth collided with yours, his hands roaming underneath your shirt and exploring every inch of you like he was trying to commit your body to memory. 

The intensity of his gaze pierced you with lust and desire. He lifted the hem of his jersey, watching as his cock disappeared between your folds. 

“I love watching you take all of me, pretty girl.” Theo was ravenous, littering your neck and shoulder with love bites. “You ride me so fucking well. Maybe it should be you out there on the broom.” 

“The only broom I’m interested in is yours,” you quipped back. “Besides, you don’t want everyone else knowing my tricks, do you?”

“Fuck no,” Theo whispered roughly as he switched positions. He pressed you against the mattress, hooking your legs on his shoulder before smirking. “This is for my eyes only. You’re mine, amorina.” 

“Yours,” you breathed as he thrust into you. The angle allowed him to slide in even deeper, hitting all the right spots as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

“That’s my good girl,” Theo declared proudly. “Now fucking take it.”

The pleasure hits you in waves. The sounds that you were both making were absolutely filthy, and you were glad that music was playing in the common room below otherwise the whole of Slytherin house would’ve heard you screaming Theo’s name. 

“You getting close, baby?” Theo grunted as you fluttered around him. You whimpered in response, raking your nails along his back. “I’ll take that as a yes. I want you to cum with me. Can you do that, pretty girl?”

You nodded as Theo’s slender fingers rubbed against your clit, pushing you over the edge. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, cursing as the orgasm hit you both. 

Theo kissed you, swallowing your moans of pleasure as euphoria washed over you. He rode it out, hips stuttering as he finished. The two of you laid in the dark, bodies twined together while your heartbeats synced. 

“Holy fuck,” you said in disbelief. 

Theo chuckled. “That did feel a bit sacrilegious.” 

He rolled over and grabbed his wand, casting a quick scouring charm over the both of you. Thank Merlin for magic.

You rolled over, propping your chin up with one hand. “You want to smoke a cigarette, don’t you?”

Your boyfriend shook his head. “Actually, I was thinking about quitting.” 

Now this was news to you. “Oh? Has all my nagging finally paid off?” 

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “I’m just thinking ahead. I don’t want our kids picking up the habit.”

Your eyes widened. “Kids? As in, plural?”

Theo nodded emphatically. “Oh yeah, little Theo Jr. and his brother Mattheo don’t need to be exposed to my smoking.” 

You cocked your head in confusion. “Theo Jr.? Mattheo?”

“Don’t ask. I lost a bet.”

“You better be taking the piss, Teddy.”

He chuckled. “Mostly. I am quitting smoking and I am looking forward to a future with you, our hypothetical children’s names to be further discussed.” 

“You absolute menace of a man,” you said, cuddling him with a wide grin. “I fucking adore you, do you know that?”

“I am stupidly in love with you.” 

You giggled as Theo peppered kisses on your face. “Malfoy’s right. We’re truly revolting.”

“Oh, absolutely vile.” 

Theo tucked you into the crook of his neck and kissed the top of your head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you mumbled sleepily. “I love you, Teddy.”

He pulled you close and smiled. “I love you too, Y/N.”

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @writingsbychlo

please let me know if you'd like to be added.

#HELLO FRIENDS IM FUCKNG SCREAMIGN #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott smut #theo nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theo nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #luna lovegood

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #sub!spencer reid

[everythingne]

all american bitch -- ls2

After a successful concert in Miami, your twin sister is caught having a little moment with her boyfriend outside a club. Most people jump to conclusions, but you have a way to shut everyone up (and give half of the F1 community a heart attack in the process)

logan sargeant x singer!reader

warnings/notes: cheating allegations, cursing, so many sexual innuendos, sexual lyrics, terribly written lyrics should count as a warning... also I wrote this to celebrate logan 2024 <3

fc: gracie abrams

-

04 MAY, INSTAGRAM

urusername made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, sistersacc, and 450k others

urusername: miami!! u were ELECTRIC!! a great finish to the first leg of the tour. oh and thank u to both @ logansargeant and @ sistersacc for joining me in miami tn ahead of the gp <3

tagged: sistersacc, logansargeant, williamsracing

lilymhe: LAST PIC??

urusername: people keep sending logan text posts to me and its amazing

user1: girl explain what u were doing last night

user2: patiently waiting on her downfall fr

user3: MOTHER IS MOTHERING!!!

logansargeant: I LOVE YOU BITCH ASS

urusername: I LOVE YOU TOO FUCK HEAD !!! 💙💙

williamsracing: y/n. ur electric.

urusername: im leaving logan for u williams admin

logansargeant: dude what the fuck :(

user4: so we're gonna act like no one saw her cheating?

sistersacc: AAAA SO MUCH FUN THANKS FOR LETTING ME MAKE U MAD <333

alexalbon: thank u again for inviting me and lily i cannot express the joy of finally meeting the woman logan never shuts up about

user7: not everyone jumping to conclusions jfc

logansargeant made a new post

logansargeant: thank u williams for the incredible season and for trusting this american guy and taking a chance on me. thank u @ urusername for being my rock. see u all next yr 💙

USER HAS LIMITED COMMENTS ON THIS POST.

urusername: so so so proud of u baby <3 u did incredible

logansargeant: thank u <3

alexalbon: see u in a few weeks

oscarpiastri: great job man u did amazing

--

EXTRATV made a new post!

liked by 456k others...

extratv: While rumors are spiraling of potential cheating allegations against Y/n L/n, she was spotted with Taylor Swift at a local park in Miami after day two of her residency in the Kaseya Center. Has the checkered flag waved for the American 'It Couple' of F1?

user1: bro its so over for us.

user2: NOOO Y/N SARGEANT PLS </3

user3: people see taylor and think its an immediate break up. taylor literally helped y/n start music bc their moms are besties idk what y'all are on.

user4: reputation era real

--

"Do you see this shit?" You turn to look at Logan behind you, who currently has his face smushed into what was previously your pillow as he attempts to recover sleep from his season of traveling just about everywhere. You would be in the same boat as him if you weren't being hounded over doing your skincare and such everyday for tour. Because of that hounding, you had to take off all the makeup you had put on for dinner as soon as you got home. The dinner was with all your family and friends to celebrate the end of a season and the end of the first leg of your tour.

"No?" Logan blinks open his eyes and you cross the room from your shared bathroom, he lifts the blanket so you can slide in next to him in the bed as the fleeting Florida sun nips warmth into your skin before his warmth envelops you in the comfortable blankets you have across the bed as the fan above rotates on high.

You flip your phone, showing him the pictures of your sister people were using to say you cheated on Logan.

"Oh be so serious." He groans into your side as he looks at the photos, arm draped lazily over you before he plucks the device out of your hands and drags you fully under the blankets with them.

"Don't worry," He murmurs, sleep in his voice, "It'll blow over if we just ignore it."

"Logan they're trying to cancel me on Twitter." You deadpan, rolling into his embrace and snuggling against him.

"Write a song about it like everyone thinks you're doing with Taylor, play it on tour or something.'' He mumbles into the skin of your neck before giving you a soft kiss.

You hate how enticing the idea is.

"You're gonna have to review the lyrics before I post it, because I might make it absolutely filthy." You warn and Logan's eyes widen as he perks up from where he's cuddled into your side.

"Oh please, please, do." His little shit eating grin makes you burst into laughter as you nod, pulling out your notebook from your bedside table and a pen as Logan adjusts so he can watch you scribble down ideas.

-

urusername made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 215k others...

urusername: im so sorry to @ williamsracing in advance. my new single miami burn comes out tmrw 💙

lilymhe: get em girl.

logansargeant: i apologize in advance to my pr team

williamsracing: logan please.

oscarpiastri: some times i wonder about u two. and then i hear about you and it makes me wish i never asked.

logansargeant: wow love u too man

landonorris: no i heard the demo im with oscar on this

arthurleclerc: prayers to ur pr team !

williamsracing: well now im scared.

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smau

[cerisereids]

𝘄𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 (𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲)- 𝗮.𝗵. [𝗽𝘁.𝟭]

part two

wc- 3.9k

pairing- aaron hotchner x fem!rossi!reader

summary- down on your luck after a huge betrayal, you return to live at your father's house with your tail between your legs. you're humiliated, thoroughly convinced nothing good could come from returning home. then you meet aaron hotchner.

warnings- sfw, age gap (27-mid 40s), i'm spreading the italian american agenda w rossi!reader, reader lowkey has daddy issues but they're working on it, alcohol use, i picture this as s6 aaron, penelope is the bestiest bestie

a/n- divider from @reveriesources!!! and the literal biggest thank you on planet earth to @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi for being the best and helping me sm w this!!!

your bag hits the ground with a dejected thud. the nippy air of a virginia winter bites at your cheeks and nose as your neck cranes upward, absorbing the mansion standing before you. you haven't been back here since you were 17, and 10 years later, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up just from looking at it. a sneaking feeling creeps up your spine like a spider, you can't help but feel as if the house is staring back at you, mocking you. a sigh escapes your pursed lips, and you wipe your hands over your face before mustering your strength to pick your bag back up.

the rest of your old life has been stuffed into every spare inch of your car, waiting to break free from the confines of the compact vehicle. you're too scared to touch any other bag than the one in your white knuckle grasp. once you unload, unpack, your retreat back to your father's house becomes real. you're not ready to accept that quite yet.

you take a deep breath, slowly inching closer and closer to the porch steps. as you climb them, the light tap of your jimmy choo sneakers against the cobblestone transports you back in time: you're 16, you're sneaking in at 3 am, you don't have a care in the world, you're naïeve.

as you enter the house, you feel like a ghost of your old self, watching the scene from above. you're struck with disbelief as the same mix of vanilla and sandalwood floats through your nostrils. you gasp, glassy eyed as a flood of emotions washes over you like a tsunami. the sight of your father's living room, untouched over the past ten years- save for a new couch and some artwork- it wrings your heart out like an old dish rag. you wipe at the corner of your eye as you pull your phone out, dialing your father's number.

“principessa!” he bellows over the line, your eyes once again filling with tears at the sound of your childhood nickname, “are you settled in?”

“hi dad,” the corner of your mouth turns up at the sound of his voice, guilt preventing a full smile from forming, “yeah,” you rasp out, wiping a single tear from your cheek, “yeah. yep. i just got here, haven't unpacked yet though.”

“don't worry about that, principessa,” the pet name flows off his tongue so easily, it's hard to believe you went years without talking, “we're almost done with this case, when i'm home i'll help you move your things in. you still want your old room?”

“uh-yeah. yeah, that works. thanks papà,” you smile weakly, even though he can't see it.

he breathes out a chuckle of disbelief on the other end of the line, you haven't uttered a lick of italian in years, “alright, principessa. sleep well tonight, we should be home sometime tonight,” his voice is soft, quiet, so you know he's still at the local police station of wherever usa.

you both grow quiet, tension crackling over the line, “ok, i will. try not to work too hard,” you attempt to make a joke, but your breathlessness makes you feel like your mother 20 years prior, receiving one of your father's infamous 'it'll just be a few more days,’ phone call.

“i'll see you when i get back, okay?” is how he responds before you hang up, and you're left in the lonely, familiar silence of the house you grew up in.

as you take in the sights of your childhood, your bag falls from your shoulder once more, this time clattering against the rich mahogany floor. it falls open just slightly when it lands, and from your peripheral, you see it. the very reason you're here in the first place. you lean down to pick it up, a paperback book wobbly in your hands. your book.

you flip through the pages, your years in new york flashing like a montage in your mind. your first day at nyu, parties with fair-weather friends you naïvely trusted, graduating- ready to take on the world with your ideas and stories. you wanted so badly to fill the shadow your father unknowingly cast upon you.

you remember the pressure after graduation, nearly backbreaking. your post-grad years spent schmoozing publishers on rooftops, turning a blind eye to the deceit thickening the air. you remember the years spent hunched over your laptop in coffee shops all over the city, confessions from the deepest corners of your heart spilling onto the page.

most importantly, you remember the sting deep in your chest as you watched the news that morning. your best friend, on national television, with a new york times #1 bestseller. you remember how your face burned in fiery fury as her slender fingers curled around the book like claws. your book. the very one you're holding in your hands.

the sharp ring of the doorbell pierces through your daydream, and you glide over to the front door. you check the peephole before opening, a habit instilled in you by your father, and open it accordingly.

“hello?” you ask the very colorful blonde woman standing before you.

“hi!” she chirps, manicured nails clacking against the stiffness of her bag as hooks it around her shoulder, extending her hand for you to shake, “i'm penelope garcia. i work with your dad!”

you nod, now understandingly, as you shake her hand and smile, “hi penelope, my dad has told me lots about you, it's nice to meet you,” the niceties roll off your tongue smoothly, a rare silver lining of your time in new york, “how can i help you?” you inquire, leaning against the door frame.

“well, they are almost done with the case, they caught the bad guy and now they just have to do some paperwork. that means they don't need me anymore, so your dad asked me to check on you!” she explains, quickly patting the tips of her fingers together in an excited cheer, “please tell me if there's anything you need, if you need help with unloading your car..” she explains, listing off each action item by counting on her fingers.

“oh! well, that's very nice of you, penelope,” you study her for a moment, unsure if you feel comfortable putting this poor woman out like that. she doesn't seem to mind, though, and you're absolutely exhausted. the pile of bags stacked door to door in your car looms over you dauntingly, you suppose it wouldn't hurt to have some help. she seems fun, too, especially for an fbi agent.

finally, you move to the side to let her in, “come on in and set your stuff down, lemme grab my keys and we can start with my car, thanks!” you call your thanks over your shoulder as you pad over to the side table by the door, fishing your keys out of the bowl.

many stuffed suitcases and empty beer bottles later, you and penelope sit giggling on the floor of your childhood bedroom. it turned out that, like her and your dad, you and penelope worked incredibly well together. you were able to work out an incredibly efficient unloading system, one which involved gossiping about anything and everything while you aimlessly carried bags up the spiral staircase.

over the span of three, sweaty hours, you and penelope- who you've now tipsily dubbed 'penny', unpacked your car, as well as your lives. your stories of new york mixed with her anecdotes of the job- many including your father- eventually led you to the fridge in his garage. your eyes lit up when you spotted the 12 pack of peroni nastros. jackpot.

“i had no idea your dad even drank beer,” penelope states, her alcohol induced state causing her to find this face a lot more shocking than it really is, as she intensely studies the fifth bottle of peroni to pass her fingertips.

“he normally doesn't,” you laugh in drunken disbelief, tipping the bottle to your lips, the fizz tickling your throat, “makes sense that the one beer he would have is a peroni,” you roll your eyes gently, not that you're complaining.

“he talks about you a lot,” she remarks sweetly, her eyes glossy from the alcohol but still loving all the same, “he's very proud of you, an-and i don't know what happened to drive you all the way back here from the big apple-” she adjusts so she's kneeling in front of you, a hand placed on each shoulder, piercing you with an intense gaze, “but your father is proud of you. and i mean it!” she sticks a finger up, wide eyed, “jus'becus' allm-mywords are slurring together...i-it doesn't mean i'm a liar!” she hiccups out, and you ponder her words.

“he talks "bout me?” you beam at her, the sweet warmth of validation pooling in your stomach.

“all. the. time! with the cheesiest grin on his face, too. shows the team pictures all the time,” she downs the rest of her beer and goes to grab her sixth, the last bottle of the pack waiting for you, condensation wetting the cardboard box it sits in.

“oh god!” you throw your hands up to cover your face, "that's so embarrassing!" you squeal, pressing your fingertips into your heated cheeks.

“no! no, not at all!” penelope says, brows furrowed with such genuine concern it makes you giggle slightly, “we love seeing it. plus, it helps us all out that you're friggin gorgeous!” she shakes your shoulder as she says it.

“oh my gosh penny, stop!” your cheeks flame even hotter.

“no! it's true! you should hear what derek says about you when rossi isn't around!” she jokes, “spencer, too. he's not nearly as flirtatious as my derek but it is impossible for him to be subtle, especially when it comes to beautiful women,” she rolls her eyes playfully and you cackle.

“oh my god, that's insane,” you gasp out, nearly folded in half on the floor from embarrassment, hands once again masking your face, “boys never liked me growing up. i would sit here, in this very room, crying my eyes out over it. thank god for puberty,” you joke, a gentle smile painting your lips. you shock yourself with the vulnerable anecdote, you're not sure you've thought about that in years. something soft settles in your stomach, coating that old wound, and it's not the beer.

“cheers to that!” penelope raises her beer bottle to you, and you clink yours against it before you both take a swig.

“do you have a picture of the team? it's been a minute since my dad sent me one,” you sit up now, crisscross on the floor, both hands fidgeting with the beer bottle in your lap.

“yeah! one sec...” she trails off as she searches her camera roll, “ah!” she exclaims before turning her phone towards you.

you take a moment to absorb the photo, to take it all in. it seems to be the conterence room, or so you infer by the boxes of files scattered across the expansive table. it's dark out through the windows, and they all look exhausted as they wrap into each other, tired smiles shining bright anyway. you zoom in on your father first, a smile spreading over your lips. he's developed that same lazy eye in his right eye that all the older men have in your expansive italian family. guilt cinches your heart as you recall how much time has passed, how long you've gone without visiting.

“who are the guys that think i'm hot?” you murmur out the side of your mouth, giving her a side eye that makes her cackle.

your eyes widen once she points them out, “damn...” is all you can say, your alcohol induced haze causing you to gawk at the, admittedly, incredibly attractive men on your father's team.

“i know, right?” penelope laughs, “derek is mine though, sorry!” her voice rings out her fake apology and you laugh, recalling a story or two from your dad about them.

“he is all yours, my love,” you smile at her, “who's everybody else? i need to put names to faces here,” you settle in next to her, now both of you leaning against your bed, still in the same spot 10 years later.

“oh! so this is jj,” she drawls, pointing to a blonde woman, “and emily...and that's hotch, he's the big boss man, very serious fellow,” she explains using a faux seriousness and it makes you giggle again,

“and of course you know your dad, and our two lover boys over there,” she points out derek and spencer again with an eye roll. you laugh, but your eyes linger on hotch. he stood tall and strong in the middle of his team, not a strand of dark hair out of place, clad in an extremely well-fitting suit and a tired, but proud, smile. he's gorgeous. you can't help but wonder what he thinks when your dad shows them your photos, now completely uninterested in derek and spencer. “and meeee!” she holds her arms out in grandeur, snapping you out of your daze.

“the best member!” you point at her accusingly as you say it, raising your beer to your lips and finishing it off before grabbing the last bottle.

“i know!” she jokes, and you just can't seem to stop laughing.

“that's a sweet picture, you guys seem like you're close,” you remark gently as you lay back on the ground again, legs curling in penelope's lap. the fact that your dad has been well taken care of all this time sways your guilt just slightly.

"we are, your dad is a great agent, 'n an incredibly valued member of our team," she blinks at you, "are you close?" she asks gently, testing the waters.

"um, more so now than ever, i guess," you laugh, "he divorced my mom when i was really young, so i didn't hear from him much growing up," penelope's mouth crooks to the side as you speak,

"he reached out when i was in high school, though, and he had this room remodeled so i could stay here. i hated being here, though. i was so mad at him," you roll your eyes, "i was the poorest little rich girl there ever was," you inwardly cringe at your past petulance as you take another sip of your beer. that is a scar alcohol is going to heal, just for tonight.

"hey, you were young! you were angry!" she shouts, already advocating on your behalf even though you've only known her about three hours,

"i'm sure he understood, don't be so hard on yourself, sunshine" she nudged your leg with her hand and you smile.

"i think you might be right, penny," you sit up again, taking another sip of beer "i took off for new york the second i graduated, i wasn't even 18 yet," you shake your head, your gaze planted on your legs laid flat in front of you.

"did you go to school out there?" she inquires.

"mmhm," you hum, emptying the last drop of beer, "studied english and creative writing at nyu, didn't really call him that much my first few years out there," you admit regrettably, "we talked more the older i got, though. i started to miss him, so i came here," it wasn't a lie, it just wasn't necessarily the entire truth. you knew penelope could tell, too, you know better than to lie to an agent, you lived at your dad's in high school for god's sake.

"well, at the end of the day, love saves us all, honestly," she drawls out, and you remember how drunk the two of you are. it snaps you out of your daddy-issues-somberness, and you double over in laughter.

"maybe we should try and sober up," you gasp out, the two of you bursting into another round of giggles, "come on," you whisper, like you're two teenagers trying not to get caught at a sleepover,

"let's get some toast and some water and some motrin," you hiss, wide eyed, like you just had the best idea on the planet.

you scramble over one another on your way to the steps, and penelope is so concerned about the frequency of your giggles.

"what's so funny?!" penelope asks as you two descend the stairs. it didn't take long on your journey for you to start laughing again, at nothing in particular, just your sheer, utter, drunkenness.

"i don't know!" you whisper back over your shoulder. taking your gaze off the steps proves to be a mistake as you miss one of them, nearly plummeting down the wooden staircase. penelope slings her forearms underneath yours, saving you from certain spiral-shaped doom.

"oh my god!" you squeal and you both burst into another fit of giggles. you regain your balance before finally getting down into the kitchen.

popping two slices of bread in your dad's way-too intricate toaster, you move about the expansive kitchen to the fridge, grabbing butter and then some knives to spread it with. once you close the refrigerator, you're greeted by two men in the dimly lit kitchen, go-bags hanging from their shoulders.

"oh my god!" you scream at the top of your lungs, the items in your hands immediately slip from your grasp, clattering to the floor.

"what!!!" penelope comes running in from the living room, draped in your father's microfiber linen blanket. she turns a brighter light on to reveal your father standing with another man in the kitchen, quirked eyebrows mirroring each other almost exactly.

“oh, my god, you guys!” she exclaims, hand over her heart as you drop to pick up what you've spilled, “you cannot just do that!” she scolds them, before taking the bags from each man as she inquires your father about the end of the case.

your eyes linger on the taller man standing next to your father as he chats to penelope. it's hotch. the man in the photo. the man in the photo. you can tell it was a long case, with the way his tie and suit jacket are folded neatly over his forearm, the first few buttons of his shirt undone. his brown hair is slightly messy up top, like he'd been running his fingers through it. he's even more beautiful in person. your heart picks up its pace, giddiness swarming throughout your stomach like butterflies. then, the reality of the situation hits you like a freight train. why is he here? now? while you're this drunk and sweaty? a loose cardigan is draped over an old tank top, sweatpants hanging low on your hips.

you turn towards the kitchen counter, gaze turned downward, though you could feel his eyes burning a hole through the side of your face. you make a weak attempt to spruce yourself up, dusting away the flyaways falling from your bun and quickly applying some tinted lip balm. you sneak a peek at him, drawing your gaze to the side just slightly, before looking back up fully.

he's already looking at you when you turn to face him, his deep, brown eyes sparkling in the low light of the kitchen. the contact makes your heart drop into your stomach, twisting and turning your insides like you've been on a rollercoaster. his playful gaze, the small uptick of his lip in the most tantalizing smirk, they tell you he knows exactly what you were doing. fucking profilers.

“principessa!” your father gushes once penelope releases him from her metaphorical clutches. you reluctantly rip your eyes away from the man across from you and flash your father a demure smile.

he strides across the kitchen, past hotch, with his arms outstretched. you mirror him meekly, having lost every last bit of confidence in front of this newfound audience.

“hello, papà,” you murmur quietly into his shoulder, relaxing just slightly in his hold. it's been a long time since you'd hugged your father, you didn't realize how much you'd missed it.

“my, my...” he trails off, holding your face in his hands, “is it possible you've gotten more beautiful since i last saw you?” he punctuates his question with a loud kiss on the forehead, followed by one on each cheek. it was how he greeted you every time he saw you, something his nonna passed to his mamma, who then passed it to him, which he has now passed to you.

“i get it from my mamma!” you chirp, walking back over to the golden brown bread popped up in the toaster.

“you're very funny,” he waves a finger at you while you all let out small bouts of laughter, “did you girls enjoy yourselves tonight?” he smirks at you and penelope, still quite intoxicated.

“you have amazing beer,” you point the butter knife in your father's direction as you say it, and you receive yet another round of laughs. your eyes snap toward the quiet, high pitched chuckle coming from your right. the smile immediately falls from your face when you lock eyes with him, not of disdain, but of the sheer, gut wrenching pull you feel towards him. it almost aches.

“oh! let me not forget...this is aaron hotchner, he's our unit chief,” your father claps the back of the tall brunette beside him, who then reaches his hand out for you to shake.

“hi,” he says gently, with a smile to match, “you can call me aaron,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, but direct all the same. you catch the way his obscenely large hand dwarfs yours, and you have to stop yourself from gulping akin to a cartoon character. if he'd held onto you any longer, hearts probably would've formed in your eyes.

“hi, aaron, it's nice to meet you,” you coo, your sweet, gentle gaze poring into his wide, dark eyes.

“you as well,” a ghost of a smile paints his lips as he sticks his hands in his pockets, “we've heard so much about you at the unit, it's nice to finally meet you,” there's a glint in his eye as he scans over your face, letting his gaze drop ever so slightly to your neck. he corrects himself soon after, his eyes snapping back to yours before they could go any lower.

“likewise,” you smirk, that one look igniting a flame low in your belly. you silently revel in the tiniest hint of red grazing his neck, just for a moment, but that moment is cut short before you can tease him any further.

“so, what brings you here so late at night, sir?” penelope reenters the room with your father in tow, and you hadn't even noticed they left the room.

“oh! i-um i need to borrow a globe from david,” penelope and your father both raise a brow to the way he fumbles over his words, and you hide a shit eating grin by taking a bite of your toast.

“a globe?” you inquire, passing penelope's toast to her, which invokes a happy squeal from the blonde.

“for my son,” he quickly explains, gaze falling to the floor as he backs away just slightly, “he needs it for a school project. shall we?” he hastily exits the room, your father following suspiciously in tow.

“what was that?” penelope whispers through bread crumbs, her eyes wide.

“i have no idea!” you hiss back, “but that was something, right?”

she nods, eyes wide, “i don't think i've ever heard the word 'um' leave his lips before tonight!”

“oh my god,” you groan, plopping your head in your hands.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x rossi!reader #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner criminal minds #aaron hotchner smut

[cherubfae]

"you take me so well" || arcane x reader

With Silco, Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Caitlyn, & Jinx

I don't accept NSFW requests!

tags: fem!reader, female anatomy, smut, established relationships, reader is implied late 20s (Vik), late 20s-early 30s firelight reader (Silco), toy use, vik's reader also uses a cane!!, pet names

a/n: lmao me writing these like I don't have my bestie and I in mind for our faves <3

Silco

Smoke from his snuffed out cigar lingers in the air, mixed so sweetly with his fine cologne and aftershave. It's one of the few things you can focus on as Silco drills his drooling cock deep into your pussy. You grip the edge of his desk, your board tossed in the corner of his office, legs hooked loosely around his waist gasping with every drag of his pelvic bone against your achy clit. His grunts are wild, unhinged. His blunt nails leave crescent-shaped marks on your skin as he yanks you deeper onto his cock, his balls making a wet pap pap pap with every delicious thrust. "Such a good girl for me, darling. What would your poor leader think of you sleeping with the enemy? Being fucked so tenderly on the Eye of Zaun's cock? Oh my love--! My cock was truly made for you, hmm? Utterly divine." His lips smash to yours, fingers intertwined together.

Viktor

Ever the gentleman, at first, Viktor slowly lowers you down onto his thick cock. His large hands shift from your thighs to grip your hips, pressing you down gently til he bottoms out. "There, love, see? You always take me much better when you're amply prepped for my dick. You're such a sweetheart for me, I must reward your patience." His smirk curls, lips finding your neck. Viktor's hand gently strokes your leg, easing what pain and discomfort he could. He wouldn't move until you told him to. He knows how much you enjoy cock warming him. <3

Jayce

A soft whimper bubbles in the back of his throat, his cock head breaching your lubed, velvet walls with a gentle push. So warm and inviting, the intoxicating feeling of you wrapped around is just what he needs after a long, stressful day in the lab. His girth is impossibly thick, it's taken a lot of practice and prep for your tiny cunt to be able to take him. Jayce is always gentle with you, big thumb circling your clit in hopes to chase away any discomfort. "Shh, shh, I know it's big, baby, you're taking me so damn well. Want to stop? No? Okay, okay. Let me get some more lube, yeah? Oh, fuck, pretty girl. I felt you clench. God, I ache for you, baby."

Vi

"Fuck baby," she hisses, sinking you down further on her pink strap. Her hips stutter, raw muscle flexing beneath the strap's harness pressing into the meat of her thighs. She rears herself back, until the pink head of the dildo is almost entirely exposed before pushing back in with her hips flushed to yours. "You're so stretched out on my cock, lovely. So fuckin' perfect." Vi purrs, swallowing your moan with her lips.

Caitlyn

Tender kisses are peppered all over your face, her long hair falling in front of her face. She's smiling down at you, looking like an angel sprawled against her pillow. Your pretty lips drawn open into a wanton gasp, hips jumping up as her deep blue strap sinks into you fully. The strap buzzes to life, Caitlyn giggles at your little yelp. It melts into desperate pants and eager rolls of your hips. She's more than happy to oblige as she pins your knees to your chest and fucks you into her mattress. "That's it, love. You look so pretty taking my cock like a good girl. Oh, does that feel good, baby? I'm glad. You look so lovely, all fucked out and flushed. Such a pretty little thing."

Jinx

Her face hides at the back of your neck, hips pounding against your ass. Her lithe fingers curl around the messy sheets, her other hand curled at your hip. Glancing down at where you two meet, Jinx all but snarls out a moan, picking up the pace. The way the electric blue strap buries itself deep within your pussy is such an addicting site. One that makes her froth at the mouth, nails biting into your skin. "You should see how fuckin' well you take me, princess. Fits like a fuckin' dream, your cunt is practically drooling f'me!"

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

#arcane imagines #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane smut #silco x reader #viktor x reader #jayce x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn x reader #jinx x reader #cherubfae 2024

[borathae]

"You wake up in Jungkook's bed after a passionate night together."

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, domestic Fluff, hinted Smut

Warnings: casual nudity, Kookie shows off his muscles, he is a giggly cutie who just wants to be praised, they talk about last night's sex, she kisses his abs, he is so in love with her :(

Wordcount: 2k

a/n: i wanna give him the world. he is my babyboy :( also, i don't gotta mention by which live this was inspired. y'all KNOW fjadjfa. enjoy besties, i fucking love him 🤍

Something is tickling your face. Gently. Nicely. Warm. It feels warm. Fingers. You can make out the paths they draw. Over your forehead, tracing your brows, down your temples, along your cheeks and up your nose until the faintest touch feels up your closed eyelids. 

You know where you are. Jungkook’s wing. You stayed with him after the two of you went on a lovely movie date in town, followed by karaoke in his living room till late into the night. 

You had sex too. It was good sex. Amazing sex even. He made you see not only stars, but the entire galaxy. And in return you made him arch his back and whimper your name. It was amazing. It really, really was.

You still feel the afterglow of it. It became stronger again now that you are awake and actively take him in.

His soft scent lingers on the sheets and the warmth of his touch feels heavenly. You can’t stop your lips from curling into a sleepy smile. Quite frankly, you didn’t even try to stop them. Perhaps you even encouraged them to do so. 

“Mhm good morning. That feels amazing”, you mumble. 

“Good morning, my honey”, he answers you and cups your cheek to run his thumb along the tender skin under your eye. Once. Twice. 

Then you open your eyes to look at him. 

His face scrunches up into a giddy smile instantly. It starts off with his eyes before the rest of his face follows. You love the way he smiles. It is so precious and adorable that he always starts off with his eyes before anything else shows his happiness. It fits him so well. 

You retort his smile, feeling it grow when he scoots closer to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“I hope I didn’t wake you. I’ve been awake for a little and I tried not to touch you, but you’re so pretty when you sleep”, he says, making your heart flutter. 

He scoots back again and touches your ear to massage it softly. 

“You didn’t wake me”, you assure him, tingling at the touch. 

“That’s good to hear. I hope you don’t mind that I looked at you”, he says and giggles, “I’m sorry, I just think that you’re so pretty.”

“I don’t mind”, you say and reach out to caress his naked chest, “you’re so cute, my honey.”

“Thank you, yeah”, he says and giggles. He is so cute when he is so happy. You hope that he never stops giggling. He shimmies back just enough that you can look at him comfortably. He gathers a bundle of his blanket and uses it to rest his chin on it. Like this, you have perfect view of his sculpted arms and tattoos. He didn’t bother to put on clothes last night and neither did you. He kept snuggling up to you throughout the night and whenever you noticed it, you felt yourself tingle. His skin felt like paradise against yours. It really did.

His eyes gaze at you with sparkles in them. 

“How did you sleep?” he asks. 

“Really well. Your bed’s so comfy.”

“Yeah? That’s good to hear”, he says and giggles once again. 

“And you?”

“I slept well too, yeah. I dreamed of you.”

“You did?” 

“Mh-hm. I dreamed of last night. It’s because I can’t stop thinking about it”, he giggles again, giving you the prettiest eye smile ever, “I think we had a really amazing date. I loved it a lot.”

“I loved it too”, you answer him and touch his arm to squeeze it lovingly, “you’re so cute.”

“Heh”, he lets out and blushes, “and I think that the sex was amazing”, he sounds shy all of a sudden, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You smile and agree with a nod of your head, “I can’t stop thinking about it either.”

“Do your knees still hurt?” he makes sure. You finished him off by riding him and you went at it with such passion that your knees ached afterwards.

“No, they don’t. I told you, they were just tired.”

“You did it so hard”, he says and giggles with his nose scrunching up. He snuggles the blanket, even going so far as to rub his cheek against it, “I couldn’t stop moaning.”

“I couldn’t tell at all”, you joke and snicker.

He snickers as well, nodding his head, “I know, I was so loud. I can’t help it because you’re so, so good.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m the same when you touch me.”

“Yeah, I know”, he says, glancing down at your body just once, “you sounded really sexy. I think.”

“Thank you, baby. You sounded really sexy too.”

“Yeah, I liked it”, he says, “I’ve been able to make love to you without danger for such a long time already, but I still feel so excited by it. So it always feels epic and, and”, he stops himself, glancing at you shyly, “I hope I’m not annoying you with this already.”

“Kookie, come on”, you say sternly and nudge his chest, “don’t you dare say that. I feel as excited as you do, sweets. You deserve to feel this way.”

“Thank you. It means a lot that you share those feelings with me.”

“Of course, baby. I mean it.”

He smiles and reaches out to touch your face. Your cheek, your brow and temple until he ends it with a soft brush over your lips. And as he makes sure that your face is actually as beautiful as he thinks it is, his sparkly eyes race over your features without wanting to stop. They finally land on your lips and the way they look so pretty in the morning lights.

“I uhm”, he begins and lets out a shy giggle, meeting your gaze. You retort the chuckle, caressing the inside of his wrist.

“Mhm?”

“I think you’re beautiful”, he says, making your heart flutter.

“Thank you so much”, you whisper giddily, “you’re beautiful too.”

“Thank you”, he says and sits up just a little, “hey ___? I was thinking”, he begins.

“What were you thinking?” you ask him, expecting the most profound revelation ever.

“My arms look really strong today. What do you think?” he says, showing off by flexing his arm. His muscles tense and bulge, capturing your attention. 

You stifle a snicker. You did not expect for the conversation to go this way. He is such a wonderful person.

“Look at this”, he points at the most sculpted parts, “can you see the lines there and, and how big it looks there?”

“I can”, you tell him, melting in fondness. He is so adorable when he shows off because you know for a fact that he believes that this is the most impressive thing he could do. Not being loving and gentle, neither being the best listener and sweetest person ever. No, in his eyes showing off his muscles is the most impressive thing about him. Which, don’t misunderstand, is very impressive, but it is still very adorable as well because of how randomly he decided to do it. 

“Can you see how strong I am?” he asks, flexing even harder. 

“I can”, you reach out and touch his arm. It is rockhard, “wow, Kookie your muscles are so hard.”

“Right? It’s because I’m so strong”, he says.

“Mhm, of course you are. You’re such a strong man, this is so impressive”, you praise him, squeezing his arm gently, “wow, so strong.”

“Yeah, right?” he agrees and then sticks his head under the blanket for a second. You watch him with fondness bubbling in your tummy, “and check this out”, he says, reappearing again and tugging the blanket down his torso just enough that the first hint of his pubes gets revealed. He is resting on his back, propped up on his elbow and with his abs flexed. He runs his fingers down the lines of them, “look.”

You roll to your tummy and prop yourself up on your elbows. Like this, you could easily rest your chin on his stomach if you wanted to.

“Wow Kookie, your abs looks so strong”, you gasp.

“Right? It’s because I used them so much last night”, he says, making your chest flutter. He wasn’t lying. He did use them a lot as he was making you see galaxies.

“Mhm of course you did”, you say, “can I touch?”

“Of course.”

You reach out and trace his muscles with your fingertips. Jungkook watches you with his breathing just a little quickened. Goosebumps cover his skin wherever you touch. You finish your explorations by shimmying closer and draping your arm over his lap just so you can lower your lips to his stomach and kiss it.

Jungkook gasps when that happens, shivering like crazy. You nuzzle your nose into his faint happy trail and inhale his scent. He smells like warm nights, good sex and clean skin. It’s addictive, really, and for just a short moment you play with the desire to lick him until he shivers.

You lift your head, meeting his droopy gaze.

“My strong man”, you say, flashing him a loving grin.

Jungkook breaks into a fit of happy giggles, picking you up in his strong arms to hug you against his chest. 

“Thank you ___, I’m your strong man”, he says, wiggling you from side to side. 

“Yes you are”, you tell him, snaking your arm around his waist, “I feel very safe in your arms.”

“Wow really?” he gasps and giggles, “wow, thank you. This means so much to me.”

He lies down with you in his arms, which results in your finding your new resting spot sprawled halfway on top of him and with your face buried in the crook of his neck. You grunt at the impact, before a fond chuckle shakes your shoulders.

“Careful”, you tell him.

“I’m sorry”, he slips his arms from you, “did I hurt you?”

“No, you just surprised me. That’s all”, you say, climbing on top of him and sitting down on his lap. Just below his dick and with your hands feeling up his pecs. Like this, the blanket covers you until your hips while the rest of your body was exposed to the cool air. Goosebumps cover your skin instantly, but Jungkook touches don’t allow your body to feel cold. He runs his hands all over your body, leaving out the most intimate spots for respect reasons and massaging the parts which he thinks are so incredibly soft.

“My strong man, mhm?” you say.

He nods his head vigorously, pressing out a shaky, “yeah.” He is just so excited to be with you and to be your strong man! He is your man! That’s awesome!

You run your hands to his shoulders before placing them in the pillow beside his head. Like this, you can look down at his pretty face while Jungkook feels up your back and the beginning of your buttocks.

“Should we check out this café we passed last night?”

You drove by a café on your way to the cinema yesterday. Back then, it had already closed for the day, but it promised fresh breakfast everyday in the café window. You talked about going there one day and trying out the menu.

“I love this idea”, he says, “I’m really hungry already”, he tells you and adds a quick, “not that kind of hungry though, don’t worry.”

You laugh, “I wasn’t thinking that”, you assure him, pecking his lips. 

Jungkook hums and hooks his arms behind your head. With one expert movement, he has your positions flipped, kissing your lips as happy purrs rumble in his chest.

“Kookie, wait”, you giggle, fighting him off with minimal effort, “the breakfast.”

“You shouldn’t have kissed me then”, he mumbles, chasing your kiss.

“It was a peck, you’re the one deepening it”, you complain with a racing heart.

“Mhm no”, he answers you, making you laugh.

“Come on, baby”, you snicker, turning your head so he is kissing your cheek instead.

“Hmpf fine”, he huffs out air, rubbing his nose against you slowly, “first shower, then breakfast, then I’ll buy you flowers and then I’ll show you what kissing me all naked gets you.”

“Sounds like a deal”, you say, feeling oh so giddy that you could burst.

#jungkook romance #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenario #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #vampire!jungkook #bts romance #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x you #vampire!bts #bangtan romance #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenario #bangtan oneshot #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #fanfic: sanguis duology

[kpopnstarwars]

NO NEED FOR ME TO HIDE🙏🏾🙏🏾

Bestie, are you going to continue Atonement universe?🥺 I am very curious on how their interactions could look like in the future, now that they have an accurate understanding of their intents

A/N: U ASKED JUST THE RIGHT QUESTION MY FAVOURITE BUNNY, but bc im evil i've made this into a bunch of feyd headcanons even tho no one asked

tw: 18+, smut headcanons (switch feyd ladies and gents), cannibalism (by the harpies), i dropkick everyone with feyd's trauma, therefore mentions of sa and pedophilia (fuck you vladimir), 'who did this to you' because man if that's not one of the yummiest things ever, nightmares, children and pregnancy, also sterility, swearing somewhere probably,

wc: 2.3k

part 1 (this can be read as a stand alone, it's just feyd headcanons)

feyd does everything he can to make up for how he treated you in the first months of your marriage

you assure him that it's fine, that he doesn't have to beat himself up over what he has done, but you still notice the pain in his eyes when he looks at you

he hovers close to you at all times, keeping a hand at the small of your back or pulling you close into his side

it's a strange process, only getting to know your husband in the fourth month of your marriage, but it's a process that you treasure

you'll ask him silly things from his favourite food to his opinions on the carvings on the table over there whenever the questions occur to you

it's late at night, while he's gently cleaning you up after sex or holding you tightly in his arms, your head tucked under his chin, when he tells you the deeper, more painful things

the grief in his voice is so raw as he describes to you how his uncle pitted him and rabban against each other from a young age, how his childhood was stolen from him - you ache for him, for the things that were taken from him before he could even fight for them

you find out about his nightmares soon after that - not because he tells you, but because one happens

you suspect there was something he wasn't quite ready to tell you, but you didn't press; no hands have handled feyd's heart the way he lets you, and you're determined to honour that privilege

a storm howls outside, and you think that the rumbles of thunder were what woke you

you turn over and realise it's feyd, his features contorted with fear even in his sleep, eyes rolling under the lids as he trembles, broken pleas leaving his lips

all you catch is a 'don't' and a 'please, uncle'

something cold slithers down your spine

touching his face, you grab his shoulder, shaking him, whispering his name, trying to wake him gently

a tear leaks down his cheek, and a meek sound leaves him, ripping your heart in two - you need to wake him up, free him from this dream

'feyd.'

his eyes snap open, and in them, you clearly see the expression of a trapped, cornered animal

you say his name again, and he looks at you sharply, unseeing

he's awake and yet somehow he's still trapped in the nightmare; he wraps his hands around your throat, and you gasp, nails digging into his forearms in an effort to wake him up

with precious air, you rasp out his name again, and he blinks, slowly gaining consciousness

his face crumples when he finds his hands around your neck

distress limns his features as he backs away from you, shaking his head, horrified by his own doing

your head spins with lack of air but you reach out to him, refusing to let him slip away - you snare him in your arms, hold him tightly, kiss his face

he doesn't move, afraid to hurt you

you pull back to stare him in the eyes

'i'm okay. i am okay. you hear me, feyd? i'm fine. i'm not hurt.'

he buries his face in your shoulder and when you feel hot tears on your skin, rage simmers and seethes, wrathful in your chest

'who did this to you?'

your voice is dripping with fury; he shakes with a sob, and you run your hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him and the anger inside you

eventually, he calms, and you tilt his face up, gently wiping the tears off his cheeks, waiting

he holds out his arms again, and you oblige him, letting him hide his face in your shoulder as he tells you the substances of his nightmares - memories of the baron, eyes rabid, hands reaching, and it makes you tremble with rage

you crush feyd in your grip, and he clings onto you, his eyes wet, letting you anchor his drowning spirit

the two of you fall asleep twined together, feyd cradled in your embrace

in the morning, you cup his face in your hands and tell him that you will protect him, fight for him, love him until your blood stills in your veins

one of the first thing feyd does is dismiss his harpies from their duties

originally, he was going to get rid of them permanently, but you convinced him not to, telling him you wanted to meet them

to be honest, feyd didn't really understand (he thought you wanted to 'use' them for a bit and was kind of taken aback until you reassured him you just wanted to talk to them)

he stayed in the room anyways, knowing that his harpies could be jealous, but he had nothing to fear

all you do is chat to them, and in the same way you charmed him, you charm them

feyd marvels at the way you reach out to them and connect with them with so much ease, laughing and joking with them, complimenting their pretty eyes and tattoos as if they are your long time friends

from then on, they are no longer feyd's harpies, but yours

they accompany you around the palace and sometimes to court

the latter causes quite a stir; none of the nobles can make sense of why the na-baron's feral cannibal troupe are now dressed in fine clothing and following the na-baronness around

you enjoy their company - they brighten your day considerably, and are not afraid to make remarks a little too loudly in front of nobles

you have to hide your laughter when one of them comments on the scruffy facial hair of the duke addressing feyd, even more so when he stares at them wide eyed, a little fearful of them

in a way, they protect you and you protect them

if a noble approaches you with disrespect, they'll joke loudly among themselves about the taste of his flesh

in the same way, if someone makes a snide remark of their presence, you're quick to challenge it

the perplexed look on feyd's face amuses you to no end when he realises they prefer you now

feyd and the harpies teach you about harkonnen culture

feyd especially tells you stories about how he hunted on forests long cut down when he was a boy, and you love to listen to him, watching his face and drinking in the softer, nostalgic tone in his voice

he shows himself to you in little ways

feyd complains to you about the nobles in the court, how he hates their decorum and their entitlement

he talks to you for hours about different fighting forms, occasionally getting up to demonstrate them to you, and you marvel at the accuracy and fluidity of his movements

he takes you to his favourite parts of giedi prime, shows you the volcanoes and the less polluted parts of the capital city

he tells you the story of every scar on his body, and you find yourself captivated by the look in his eyes as he recalls a good fight

he whispers on your skin promises - promises of love, sweet on his tongue but never cloying, always true

in turn he asks you about your old life, about your home planet and your family

you answer happily, loving the way his eyes follow you, their blue tone becoming your favourite colour

you tell him about the time you visited to see him fight, how you saw the fire within him even then, and he chuckles, enthralled by the idea that even when the two of you were too young to really comprehend what your arranged marriage meant, you were still drawn to each other

he tells you how when he raised his knife, victorious, he spotted you in the crowd - a small girl, her back ram rod straight - and thought you were the sweetest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on

not that you seemed breakable to him; no, he thought you were formidable, too, not even bothering to hide your frown in an arena of cheering, happy faces

it felt right that he would marry a woman who wasn't afraid of him

feyd teaches you how to fight

he delights in the way you grow so bold with him, delivering snarky remarks if he teases you, rising to meet everything he throws at you

you're a good fighter - unpredictable in your moves - and he's immeasurably proud that he was the one who taught you

sometimes, once you're good enough to duel, you'll end up staggering to the nearest somewhat secluded area to fuck

now that you know you're not alone, you're so confident of yourself, confident in the electrifying look in your eyes and confident in the way you make him beg

feyd never thought he'd like to give up control, but with you it's addicting

he trusts you

he lets you ravage him, lets you use him until he's spent, panting, thighs shaking, knowing that you would let him do the same - knowing that you do let him do the same

there's something so raw about letting himself go in your touch

his head spins when you tie him up, your deft fingers checking the knots and tightening the bindings across his torso, making art with his skin as the canvas

feyd is addicted to you in every aspect

he can't get enough of your pussy; he'd spend hours between your legs, pulling sounds out of you that you didn't know you could make

he thinks that the closest he's ever come to heaven is when he's buried balls deep in your cunt while you beg him harder, faster

A/N: i couldn't choose between these two scenarios so have both

EITHER after almost a year, you begin to wonder why you haven't pregnant

especially with the way feyd fucks you

so you seek the help of a doctor - the test results come back a week after, accusatory, damning

you're sterile

your first reaction is to tell feyd, but once you find yourself face to face with him, his gaze concerned as he holds your waist, you can't tell him

you just fall into his arms, staying your tears, doubts crawling into your skull and gnawing at the edges of your mind

you can't give him an heir

there's no way around it

what if he takes a concubine? what if he realises you serve no purpose to him? what if he stops loving you?

feyd doesn't pry about the tests results until the next day when he finds you in the shower, hands trembling and head bowed

he tips your chin up so he can look you in the eye

'tell me what troubles you, my love.'

so you do, with his fingers curled around your waist, the shower water running over your skin

he kisses you once you finish, and it tears at his heart the way you're looking up at him, trying to hide the worry in your eyes as you wait for his reply

feyd doesn't mince his words when he tells you that he doesn't care if you cannot give him an heir, that all he asks of you is to let him love you - it's then that the tears fall, and he kisses them away, holding you close to him

you grieve for the children you can never have, but feyd remains by you, almost supernatural with the way he senses your pain

your gaze might fall upon one of the servant's children, causing an ache in your heart, and within a few seconds his fingers will twine with yours and he'll tuck you into his side, kissing your hair

OR you have twins: one girl, one boy

the girl is three minutes older than the boy

feyd is obssessed with your pregnant body; he always has his hands on you in some way

he gets more protective, if that's possible

sometimes he lies between your thighs, his palms spread over your stomach as he talks to the two of them, and the softness and wonder in his eyes brings a warmth to your chest

feyd is with you when you feel the first contraction and promptly carries you to the midwives

he lets you crush his hand in your grip as you give birth to the lives you've made together, wiping the sweat off your forehead and quietly encouraging you

the first time you hand them to him to hold, he's hesitant, hands fluttering over you as he figures out what to do, but he's a fast learner

there's a fierce protective glint in his eyes when he cradles them in his arms, one that you glimpse when he looks at you too, and within it there's a deep, pure joy

he teaches them how to fight, and yet he's still so gentle with them, laughing as they giggle and cling to him, one latched onto each leg

the girl is how you'd imagine feyd was as a boy: half feral, yet charming when she wants to be, while the boy is a little calmer, more unflappable, and happy to entertain his sister's mischievous endeavours

both love the harpies, and there have been multiple times when you walk in on the twins gaping wide eyed at the harpies as they regale them with old tales

sometimes, feyd will scoop them up, one in each arm, so they can reach up and give you a little kiss on the cheek before he pecks your lips

you think it's beautiful, the family that you've made with him

feyd loves the way you look at him, with that mischief in your eyes, as if you're sharing a secret with him

he loves your sweet laughter, the softness in your hands when you touch him and how you don't shy away from protecting him, defiant even in his uncle's presence

he knows he would kill for you, die for you - he'd do anything for you

you would do the same: it makes feyd's head fuzzy, when you get so fiercely protective over him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you glare at the baron, lacing your words with venom when you address him

you'd stop at nothing, just to protect his honour

when you're after something, nothing stands in your way, and yet you can handle him with such soft, gentle hands, banishing his nightmares with the light tracing of your fingertips on his back

feyd heals in your presence, and you grow in his

your love is eternal

#bald freak supremacy #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #austin butler #dune #dune two #dune part two #dune 2 #dune part 2 #dune ii #dune part ii #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha fanfiction #feyd-rautha #dune fanfiction #dune smut #atreides #house harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #dune x you #feyd oneshot #feyd x y/n #dune x y/n #feyd angst #feyd fluff

[seobsroot]

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN US

summary: jake has known you since you two popped out of the womb, he’s loved you ever since

contains: childhood besties to lovers (maybe my fav trope idk)

warnings: jake hating all your bfs, hopelessly in love jake, oblivious jake and reader, x fem reader, mentions of y/n’s douchebag date

jake sim has been your best friend since the beginning of time it seems. he’s been attached to your hip and you don’t really mind. “this movie is so boring.” he blurted as he ran his hands down your legs that were on top of his lap. “womp womp. i asked you what movie you wanted to watch and what did you say?” you awaited an answer and he rolled his eyes. “you pick” “exactly so don’t complain.”

you turned your head back to the movie and he whined. your phone went off and you looked to see who it was. jake could tell who it was by the reaction you had. you started gettting all giggly, he hated it. he didn’t know why exactly. you started typing really fast and he kept looking at you from his peripheral. he wishes he could make you smile like that. he shook his head quickly, you’re his best friend since you two were babies. why was he acting like this?

you got up from the couch and went to your room. “what happened?” he got up from his slumped position to a more upright one at your absence. “m/n is coming to get me in like 30 minutes and i have to get ready.” you headed back to your room and jake sat on your couch and nodded even though you couldn’t see anymore. what does he have that jake doesn’t?

he huffed and got up and went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. you’ve had many boyfriends over the past few years and jake has liked a few, like 2 or 3 out of the 6 you’ve introduced to him. he’s had about 2 girlfriends, but they never clicked for him. you can’t lie and say you never liked jake, but you thought he never had interest so you never made a move. he went back to the couch and laid across it.

“how do i look?” you came out in a black body con dress, a leather jacket over top, white heels, and your hair in a messy bun. you had only mascara on, but honestly that was all you needed. he took all of it in and breathed out. you smelled like vanilla with a hint of citrus. “you look amazing.” he said and you smiled. “thank you jakey. you can stay here if you want, i’ll be back in like 2 hours.” you said and waved to him bye.

he knew this wasn’t your boyfriend yet, but he hated this. he wanted you so bad, but he knew he couldn’t have you. it killed him on the inside. he slumped on your couch and accidentally fell asleep. he woke up to the sound of the door opening and he rubbed the sleep off and looked up at you. your mascara was running and you looked so sad. a look of worry washed over his face and he brought you into a hug.

“what happened?” he asked as his rubbed your back. “we went on the date and he started flirting with other girls in front of me! then i started getting mad at him and he got angry with me because i got mad at him! can you believe it jakey? oh i’m so pissed.” you cried more angry tears and he rocked you back and forth. “how did you get home? did he drive you?” you shook your head, “uber.” he huffed,

“why didn’t you call me to come get you? what if something happened?” he kept rocking you both and you shrugged. “didn’t want to worry you.” he pushed you off him. “this is any better? coming back to you crying with mascara down your face?” he grabbed your hand and took you to your bathroom.

he put you on the bathroom counter and grabbed your cotton pads and micellar water. he started wiping off the ruined mascara and applied your skin care. you looked into his eyes as he did this and you started smiling. “y/n.” he said and you hummed. “it’s always been you.” he blurted and you raised an eyebrow. “i’ve barely dated because it’s always been you. you’re the girl for me. they just don’t get me like you do, but i was scared to make a move because you were always getting new boyfriends and i could barely stay with one and it was-“ you kissed him to stop his rambling.

“jake. it’s always been us. no matter what our relationship looks like. whether it’s as lovers or as friends. it’s always been us, this lifetime or the next. i’ve always liked you, but i didn’t think you were into me. i didn’t want to cause a rift within our friendship because i cherish it so much. you’re my person forever.” he started crying and you wiped his tears and kissed him again.

“forever us pretty girl.”

i deserve him chat

#enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #fluff #enhypen jake #jake fluff #jake x reader #imagines #scenarios #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim x you #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader

[thatsdemko]

junipers dad- g.russell

pairings: George Russell x albon!fem!reader

fc: lyssieloooloo (from ig and TikTok)

requested: y - “What about something to do with all the pets the Albion’s have?? I think it would be super cute if George was trying to soft launch the relationship but because he’s such good friends with Alex people just assume that he’s hanging with the Albon family. And then it just culminates into either Albon!reader (or maybe Alex😂) just getting tried of George’s moping that his long planned out soft launch isn’t going to plan so they just decide to hard launch.”

a/n: a little something to lighten to mood xx— ps happy non-red bull podium!!

f1updates

liked by albon_pets, gr63updates, lilyandalexlover, & 6,794 others.

f1updates: it seems like George is hanging out with the Albon’s this weekend after Silverstone! he posted this cute picture of an albon cat ☺️

400 comments

f1lover22: I love that George and Alex hang out!

charleslechair: Alex and George two besties that can’t be separated

alblondo: is that y/n?! that’s so cute that George is friends with all of his sisters

princessgeorge: I’m also p sure that’s y/n’s cat juniper!

—

he sits cross legged in the chair, juniper sound asleep in his lap while he scrolls through Instagram for inspiration of his next launch. the last one was an ultimate fail considering half of formula one fans believed he was just hanging out with Alex. didn’t they know juniper was your cat?

“what’s got you so consumed online?” you peer over his shoulder, he’s searched high and low on the instagram tag ‘#softlaunch’ and it makes you giggle that he’s warped into introducing you properly to his instagram.

“why don’t you just post a picture of me and juniper? that way it looks more like you’re hanging out with me than with Alex.” you take the sleeping cat out of his lap, an alarmed grunt comes from her lips as you hold her in your arms for a picture.

“that outta do it right? Alex is nowhere to be seen.”

—

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, y/nalbon, & 77,931 others.

georgerussell63: spent some well needed time off

509 comments

albon_pets: 🐱❤️

maxverclerc: omg did George spend the weekend with the Albons?!

lewrussell: obsessed over that he and the albon siblings are friends

mercedesgeorge: everyday George proves more and more that he and Alex are still besties

—

“I don’t get it, why does everyone think we are friends?”

“well to be fair you did post a picture from junipers birthday party and everyone remembers that day.” you say it in a matter of fact tone that makes him groan as he scrolls through the comments.

albonlover: george was adopted by the albon family and I think that’s so cute

britcedes63: does he regularly hang out with them? I wouldn’t be surprised! he and Alex are really close

he shuts off his phone and watches you play with juniper. the fish on the stick being her worst enemy as she attempts to tackle it down in the air when a brilliant idea comes to his mind.

“why don’t you post me? that way everyone will be suspicious on who you’re dating!”

you roll your eyes playfully at his comment, but when you look over at him he’s handing you your phone to take a picture of him and juniper.

“if this will make you happy, then why not?”

—

f1gossiplover

liked by russbuss63, checorbr, yukisuzuka, & 7,250 others.

f1gossiplover: photo submitted by anonymous! y/n albon seems to have a new man who looks awfully similar to George?? what’s everyone’s thoughts!

300 comments

hamilton44: that’s not George that’s some imposter

gaslycharles: too short to be George

gr63babes: I know George and that’s not him

—

“what do they mean that’s not me?! that’s so clearly me in the picture.” he huffs in annoyance, phone balanced against his water bottle as he eats breakfast. the recent topic of your posts for each other is all he seems to be able to talk about, and you’d had enough. you’d really thought that semi hard launch would’ve been enough to make fans suspicious, but nobody budged.

you curse Alex for being such close friends to George, that way it was ten times harder for you to actually post the relationship like normal couples.

“why does it matter so much to you again?” you sit beside him, reaching over you take his phone and toss it into the empty chair beside you. he’d spent enough time on the device than paying attention to you.

“I just want to do it right. I don’t want to hard launch you and you realize it was too soon.”

you smile at his concerns and reach to grab his hand, “you’re too cute, Georgie, but truthfully I don’t care how you post me, but it seems to be upsetting you very much, so I have an idea.”

—

y/nalbon

liked by albon_pets, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1, & 6,530 others.

y/nalbon: juniper enjoyed some sun with her dad @ Georgerussell63

300 comments

albon_pets: uncle George has been promoted!

georgerussell63: daddy loves you juni!

roscoelovescoco: playdate soon?

mercedesamgf1: petition for juniper to join us in the paddock?

williamsracing: not on our watch!

lewishamilton: where do I sign up to get me and Roscoe matching sweaters?

alexalbon: don’t hold your breath she’s still making George and me our matching jumpers

tags: (sorry to lazy to tag everyone just gonna tag a few) @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @oconso @motorsp0rt

#george russell #george russell x oc #george russell x y/n #george russell instagram au #george russell imagine #george russell x reader #george russell fic #george russell fanfic #mercedes amg f1 #Alex albon #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fics #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x oc #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you