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#;don't look at me i know the arm is missing
cupidhoons · 2 days
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5:04 ⟡ s.jy
genre & warnings brother's best friend trope est relationship not proofread slightly suggestive back2navi
NOTE i made this up when i was washing dishes so this might be a rough read (+ the lame ass ending 😭 so sorry)....enjoy nonetheless though 🫶
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"jake! what the hell are you doing!?" you whisper yell at your boyfriend.
"just came to visit my girlfriend, why?" he says with a grin planted on his face.
"you aren't supposed to be here dingus! my brother could come in my room at any point in time and-" he cuts you off with a kiss. a soft one, at that. you almost instantly melt in his mouth — but then you pull away in an instant.
"hey..." he pouts at your action. you look around the room before walking towards your bedroom door to lock it.
the thing is, jake is your heeseung's best friend. as for heeseung? well, he's your brother.
though he is a big pain in the ass — as in a huge pain — you will say that without him, you wouldn't be with your now boyfriend. heeseung was the only reason why you and jake even know each other in the first place.
"don't pout at me like that. you know what you're doing — or more like risking!" you say as you walk back towards the window. "you were just here, jake." you give him a stern look, showing that you weren't messing around right now.
but, he only looks at you with adoration present in his eyes. he chuckles at your words. "sweetheart, can't a man miss his girlfriend? plus, you were in your room half the time i was here! so i didn't even see you." he says as he closes your bedroom window that he just climbed through.
"it's not fair how heeseung gets to see you all time and i don't." he whines. he sits on your bed and watches you walk over to him.
you roll your eyes. "whatever jakey...you know i'm off limits — at least when my brother is around." you mumble, positioning yourself on his lap. "but, i suppose i missed you too..." you whisper softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.
he lets out a small hum before kissing you again — and this time you let yourself melt away. his soft plump lips on yours, moving in sync. he moved his hand that was once cupping your face down to your hips, drawing circles around them as he makes the kiss deeper.
you entangle your hands into his hair, leading him to let out a soft groan. you giggle as you continued to kiss him. you feel his arms snake up your spine, pulling you closer to him.
you slowly pull away from each other. "fuck, i missed kissing you." you giggle. you couldn't get enough of him — and he couldn't, either. he leans in for another kiss, but before he could do so you hear a knock on your door.
"yah y/n! where the hell did you put my headphones!?" of course it's your brother. always ruining the damn mood. you roll your eyes before getting off jake's lap to retrieve the black headphones sitting on your desk.
"hello? y/n i swear to-"
you open the door before he anything else comes out of his mouth. "here, now leave me alone!"
"where's my thank you?"
you groan. "thanks for letting me use them, dumbass."
"yah! that's no way to speak to your older bro-" you slam the door on him.
"hey! jake you better not be doing any silly business with my sister! at least when i'm here!" he says, muffled by the door.
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lymtw · 1 day
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Toji who's a huge fan of the long socks and workout shorts combination on you. You don't only wear the outfit to workout. Sometimes, you wear it because it's as comfortable as pajamas but more casual to wear out than pajamas, and because you get impatient while waiting for Toji to come home, you can do anything in it. Cleaning, reading, watching TV, anything.
It's always the same scenario every time you wear the outfit. Toji ravages you—completely ruins you every time. He thought you would've caught on to his routine, by now, but there you were again, wearing those tiny red shorts. Your long white socks that reached just below your knees hugged your legs perfectly, two red stripes adorning the tops of them.
Toji sighs, shutting his eyes before bumping his forehead, lightly, into the doorframe a couple times. He's feral about the way you look, and you don't even realize it.
You gasp, a smile taking over your features at the sight of your man. "Baby!" you squeal, excitedly. You crawl towards the end of the bed, ready to leap into his arms like you usually do, but you only managed to make it to the center before he put a hand up, halting your movements. You sit back, your knees bent. "I didn't notice you were back, already. I... I missed you," you say, a softness in your tone that is attached to your concern for Toji's mood. Normally he looks at you with a boyish grin when you freak out about him being home, but he's looking at you so seriously this time. "Is everything okay?" You ask, as he ambles towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Toji, please, say something," you say, your heart starting to race with every step he takes.
He climbs onto the bed, crawling towards you. Silently, be grabs ahold of your ankle, lifting your foot towards his face so he can kiss it from your heel to the tips of your toes. You look at him while stifling a grin, wondering what's going through his mind for him to be acting this way. "That's nasty, Toji," you giggle, not making any sort of attempt to pull away your foot.
"Not as nasty as what I wanna do to you," he says, as he continues to run his kisses along your legs, his hands slowly moving up and down your shins and calves, before stopping where your socks end, an inch below your knees.
"These new?" Toji asks, tracing the red stripes on your right sock.
You nod, beaming with joy. "It came in a pack of five."
He hums, satisfied with the new information. There will be more of this in the future. "You needed every color, huh?" His lips continued their exploration, now feeling your soft thighs against them.
"There were other colors in a different pack, but I thought of you when I chose the pack that I got. It had a pair of socks with blue stripes, and I know you're fond of the color. So... yeah. That was my deciding factor." You laugh, a sound that makes Toji's lips twitch as he reaches your inner thighs.
"Always thinking of me, huh? Even when you're choosing socks." His green eyes focus on you as he continues to kiss your inner thighs, leaving behind a slightly painful memento.
"Kind of, yeah." You wince at the sharpness of his teeth sinking into your thigh for a quick second, before he laps and sucks on the indentation. "What, baby?" You look down at him with a slightly scrunched nose.
"There, there. Just leaving a little something behind on you." Toji's lips form a sly grin as you watch him, intently, even then, you didn't expect his next move. You gasp when he slides his face up between your legs, his sharp nose adding some pressure to the ache growing in your cunt. His tongue peeked out and followed the same path, leaving a damp stripe on the crotch area of your shorts. You shudder at how he doesn't stop there, your cunt throbbing when you feel his hands push up your shirt. He's kissing up your abdomen, starting beneath your bellybutton and ending at your sternum.
Your fingers run through his hair, eliciting a quiet groan from him with every gentle graze of your nails against his scalp. His hair is soft between your fingers and it messily spikes in whichever direction you brush it.
Toji pushes up the elastic band of your lacy bralette over your breasts, immediately burying his face between them. He was ruled by his obsessive desire for you in that moment, the heat of your soft skin against him minimally satiating the hunger he had for you. His mouth latched onto your right nipple while his hands roamed beneath your shorts, feeling up the backs of your thighs before giving your ass a squeeze.
"Baby..." you cooed, a sweet little grin on your lips as Toji rolled your nipple around his tongue. You could feel him subtly grinding his hard on against you, the act making your cunt pulse with need. There were shuddered breaths of desperation coming from him, his quiet groans muffled as he sucked on your nipples. You wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles on his lower back. You used your heels to nudge a little bit of his shirt up, his skin instantly warming the cotton material of your sock.
With a wet pop, he released your nipple and looked at you. In his eyes, you could see how much he wanted you, how badly he wanted to be inside you, already.
"You make my blood boil, you know that?" His face is inches away from yours. "It's like every time I come home with the pure intention of being soft and shit with you, you ruin it by making my dick hard."
You giggle, cupping his face. "I swear, I'm not even trying. I'm just here, waiting for you. Is this your way of saying you miss me?"
Toji chuckles. "What makes you say that?" He brings his hands out of from beneath your shorts, hooking his wrists around your hips to drag you even closer. Your legs readjust around his waist, your ankles locking in place again.
"Nothing in particular," you say, a saccharine tone decorating your voice. You have an inkling that he does miss you when he's gone for longer than intended. You feel more confident in your inkling when he comes home and the first thing he does is weigh your body down with his. This time was a good example.
"Maybe... I just wanna hear you say it." Your lips curl into an enticing smile. One that has Toji admiring how pretty your lips shine with that lipgloss you're wearing. "Just for me?" you whisper to him, tracing his jawline with your thumb.
Without hesitance, Toji responded to your want. "I missed you," he says, quietly, just to you, like you asked. His heart thumps rapidly as he takes in your reaction to the small confession. Your eyes were more brilliant than before, and you're smiling like a girl who's been told her crush likes her back.
"Yeah? Wanna say it again?" you ask, giddily. He looks you dead in the eyes, a deadpan expression lingering on his features. "Just one more time," you beg.
"Where are your manners, doll?" He cracked a grin at the way your body jolted slightly when his voice returned. "Haven't heard a single 'please' slip past those lips."
You giggle, your twinkling eyes apologizing for your rudeness. "Please, Toji," you plead, again, your voice light and airy.
Toji sighs, not having the heart to deny you when you look at him like that. He can physically feel how much you love him. "I missed you, my pretty girl," he repeats, kissing the column of your neck, lightly bruising you with his lips. "So fuckin' much, and I know you can tell."
"Mhm." You giggle as he drags his lips further across your neck, to the side of it
"You feel that?" He says lowly beneath your ear, dragging his clothed hardness between your legs. "You want it?"
"Mhm..." you hum, holding back a moan. "Yes, Toji."
"Good, 'cause i'm gonna give it to you. Gonna give it to you real good, mama," he purrs.
"Toji!" you shriek, kicking lightly at his back when he nibbles on your ear. He chuckles at the little goosebumps that appear on your waist, his rough hands attempting to smooth them down only to make more of them rise up.
"This little getup always gets you into trouble. Always wonder how you breathe when it fits so... tight. It's like another layer of skin, doll."
"I feel pretty in it," you murmur into his ear, your palms rubbing his shoulder blades.
"You are pretty in it. Look like a pretty little cheerleader."
"A cheerleader?" You laugh.
"Mhm, my own personal cheerleader. Always chanting my name, and wearing those pretty skirts and shorts. Those long, striped socks... mmm. Motivating me in the best way, baby."
He pulls back to remove his shirt. The sight of his sculpted muscles never failed to make your pussy wet, even when you've seen him completely naked so many times. You'll never get used to the godlike body beneath his clothes.
"You're staring, princess. What?"
You cover your eyes, a bitten back smile on your face. "Sorry, didn't know you were off limits to my eyes. Won't look at you again. Guess i'll just feel it when you're inside me."
"Aw, come on. I was kidding." He pries your hands off your eyes. "Watch me, and do the same."
You follow his lead and pull off your shirt, your bralette following shortly after. Toji waited for you to catch up to him, his eyes taking in the sight of your exposed upper body for a few seconds before working his pants off. You did the same, pulling down your shorts.
"Baby," you laugh, waiting for him to keep going. His hand goes to your stomach, rubbing your soft skin.
"Just getting a good look at you, doll." His eyes rake up and down your frame, before he clicks his tongue. "You're a real heartbreaker, you know that?"
"Yeah? Whose heart did I break?" You grin, just a little bit amused at the new information.
"Anybody who's ever seen you passing by. Even Shiu has spoken out about how be wants to pounce on you." You catch the way he rolls his eyes at the mention of someone else lusting over you. Someone he knows and works with frequently. "Man practically cries every time I leave work 'cause he knows you're home waiting for me, not him."
You giggle, gently grabbing Toji's hand off your stomach, moving your grip onto his wrist. "Shiu won't ever get to see me this way. All of this..." you splay his hand on your neck, dragging it down your chest, down your abdomen, before hooking his fingers into your underwear and pulling down as you guide his hand lower. "...is a secret between me and you."
Toji swallows the saliva that pools in his mouth, slipping his boxers off so fast.
You giggle at his inability to look away. "Want me to keep the socks on?"
"Whatever..." he says, mindlessly, entranced by your effortless ways of being sultry. He crawls back onto you, quickly revoking your privilege to have any personal space. "Shiu isn't the only one who will never see you like this. No one, but me, will ever see you like this." He cups your jaw, holding your already attentive focus. "Need to hear you say it, ma. I'm so serious, right now."
You pull his hand away from your jaw, bringing it to your mouth. Your tongue comes out to lick a line straight down the middle of his hand, from the bottom of his palm, to the tips of his middle and ring fingers. Your lips went down his hand, again, this time peppering kisses along the line you made with your tongue. "No one will ever see me the way you do. I just sealed my promise into your hand, so if you ever cheat on me, your hand is gonna split in half."
"That right?"
You nod, not a crack of a smile on your face, to show that you're just as serious.
"You're pretty powerful. What happens to all that power when you're under me? Like this."
"It's still there. Just... weakened."
"Yeah?" He says, softly, kissing along your jawline. "I'm your weakness?"
"Mhm," you mumble, relishing in the warmth of his hands as they work up and down your waist, occasionally squeezing.
"That's why we work. 'Cause you're strong enough to irreversibly punish me for committing adultery, but at the same time, you're debilitated by me."
Your breathing becomes a little more noticeable to Toji as he continues to nibble and suck on the skin of your jaw. He's working you up just by reminding you of how easy it would be to put you in your place.
You whimper as he runs his tip through your folds, the messy mixture of your and his arousal making it easy for him to glide through at a teasing pace.
"So soft, and all for me, huh?"
"Mhm..." you hum, sultrily. Your hands go to Toji's shoulders, waiting for the initial stretch of his cock when it prods into you.
Now was the time when Toji's nightly question would be answered. Would you cry or would you hold out when he put it in? Most of the time, you spared a couple tears for him, and Toji would always comfort you by making you giggle or praising you for how well you were doing. This time he was being carried by his possessive feelings. Not to say he wasn't going to comfort you, he just wouldn't be making you laugh.
His tip glided up and down at your entrance, further making you squirm beneath Toji. "Gonna need your eyes on me, mama. Just look at me," he says, still guiding his tip until you make eye contact. The tip nudges its way in, Toji's gaze not wavering from yours.
"Shh... you're fine," he coos at the sound of your whines when he starts thrusting, slowly. "You're okay, it's just the tip," he murmurs. "I know you want more than this, princess. We both know it takes more to satisfy you, huh?" You nod, frantically, in agreement. "Yeah? So, let's give you some more," he says, pushing in another couple inches of his length.
"Hey, eyes on me, look at me." His face is nose length away from yours. He can hear the short little breaths you release from the added inches inside you. Your nails dig into his shoulders, not hard enough to hurt, but enough for Toji to feel them. "Doll face... I'm working my way into you," he says quietly, like it's only meant for you to hear. Not even the walls were allowed to get in on this secret. "Know you can feel me pretty deep in there, already, but you know how selfish I am about you." He groans, the first sound of pleasure he didn't holding back. "Gonna take up more of you. Gonna be even deeper inside."
Toji was silently proud of you. No tears, so far, just little whimpers and breathy moans. "Always been so good... mmm... so fucking good to me, mama. What's another time, hm?" He purrs, kissing your face more erratically as he withheld himself from thrusting deeper before you were ready. "Gonna be good and let me destroy this pretty pussy?"
"Y-Yes, please, Toji," you whine, the ache in your cunt more prominent when he verbalizes what he wants to do to it.
"First you gotta take the whole thing. Still got a ways to go, mama."
"Faster, please, Toji. Put the rest in. I can take it."
His steady, comfortable pace is tested. He's tempted to ram the rest of his cock into you, and see those pretty eyes well up with tears from how deep he is.
"You sure?" He asks, to which you bite your lip and nod. He looked at you like you had just signed away your soul to him. His green eyes possessed so much lust behind them, but he still had it in him to hold back for one more question of security. "You would tell me if I was hurting you, right? 'Cause, you know, pretending isn't cool, ma."
"Shh... I want you so bad, Toji, it's not even funny. Like we've talked about before, I'll scream 'safe' at the top of my lungs if it doesn't feel right." You smile, caressing his cheek with your right hand. "You know, it's so hot when you take care of me."
He chuckles, leaning in to kiss you. The kiss grew lustful, immediately, egging on the fluidity of his hips against you. With every roll of his hips, he slipped more of his length into you, your wetness appearing further down his cock after every few thrusts. You could feel him driving deeper and deeper inside you, and it was intense. Your nails dragged along his skin, and you couldn't keep up with his kisses anymore, your whimpers sounding through the lock of your lips.
"Feel that? Feel me deep inside you?" Toji murmurs to you, holding your face in his hands. You felt suffocated by him—by his proximity. You felt smothered by his touch—by the hold he had on your jaw. If you moved more than an inch, your face would meet his. It made you feel dizzy, like every breath you took was stolen back by him. All of this to distract you from the rest of his cock being sheathed into you, swiftly, to get it over with.
"Fuck, it's all in, mama. Made it fit, again. We're clicked."
Your eyes are shut, light puffs of air leaving you, and a slight furrow in your brows at the tight feeling in your cunt. You're filled to the brim with Toji, and you can feel the effect it has on him with all the throbbing his cock does inside you. Making his dick fit inside you is something Toji always takes pride in. It shows how much you trust him with your body, and it proves his effort of trying to bring pleasure for not just him, but you as well. He knows it's hard to take his dick without feeling like you're being torn through, if you aren't prepared enough, so you letting him stuff you is a trust exercise every time.
"We're c-clicked?" You ask, slowly opening your eyes.
"That's right." Toji smirks, watching the way you test how far in he is by pushing your hips towards him. "Greedy girl, that's all of it."
"No- I didn't mean-" you groan, flustered by the resting cocky expression on Toji's face.
He pulls his hips back, pushing his cock back into you, quickly. "See? Clicked."
The act makes you gasp, unsettling your breathing.
"That reaction tells me everything, baby. Can't be greedy for more when you can barely handle what you have." His hips start thrusting into you as he grabs at your chest, his hands kneading your breasts. "You can beg for more dick when you can take mine without tearing up. 'Til then, you get me."
You pant, reaching out to grab some part of him, but failing. Instead you twist your claws into the sheets, pulling them into a messy clump in your fists.
You like when Toji fucks you this way. When he's facing you, you get to see his handsome face and the lust that goes into his movements. It does make you nervous, and your heart starts beating faster when he stares into your soul, but it makes your orgasms so much better knowing he's watching your every move.
Toji puts one of your legs over his shoulders, his thrusts picking up their pace as your moans get louder and needier. His hand holds your ankle steady so he can kiss along the red stripes of your socks.
"Fuck..." he hisses. "Fuck, mama, you're squeezing the hell out of me."
"T-Toji, Toji! A-Ah, fuck, Toji!" you moaned, feeling his merciless cock prod every inch of your insides. Your pussy fit around Toji's dick like a snug glove, pulsing and throbbing with short-lived vacancy every time he slid it out before ramming it back in. You could feel your slick start to trickle down from where you and Toji connected.
"Love when you say my name like that, princess. Let me hear you again," he says, grunting as he continues on the brutal pace of his hips. He spots the flush of embarrassment on your face as no sound but your restless breathing and beating hearts, fill the room. "Aw, don't be shy." He chuckles, breathlessly. "Tell me how much you love it, sweetheart. Who makes you feel like this, hm?" Toji knows that's his ticket to getting anything from you. Sweetheart. He slips in that sugary title of endearment, and suddenly you lose your will to deny him of anything.
To wind you up a little more, he thumbed at your clit, instantly spiking your pleasure. You jolted, letting out a choked moan while pushing your hips back into the mattress. "T-Toji..." you called, breathily. "Hold..." you swallowed, high pitched moans leaving you from the swirling pleasure you felt, "...hold on..."
"What? You gonna cum or something?" He teased, not letting up on your clit. "I dare you to cum," he said with dark lidded eyes, that narrowed their focus on your pleasure filled expression. He continued the stimulation, his thumb still rubbing at your buzzing clit while he thrusted into your velvety smooth cunt.
"Feels good, huh?" He asks, grunting as he brings you closer to the edge of your first orgasm. He slides in and out of you, rapidly, hitting all the vital spots within you that turn your body fluid as you cum around him. Your body becomes a wave, starting with the roll of your hips, chasing all the stimulation being given to you so you can ride out that incomparable feeling of sexual satisfaction. The wave then flows to your torso where your back arches off the mattress from all the pleasure coursing through you, before dying at your heaving chest as it rises and falls seemingly endlessly with every passion filled moan and cry you let out.
Toji groans as you pulse around him, clenching and unclenching with newborn sensitivity. It's an unwelcome feeling, one that has you whining for Toji to give you a second to come down, to which he complies. He gives your pussy a rest, but that doesn't stop him from feeling up the rest of your body. He works to stiffen your nipples again, brushing his fingertips lightly against the buds to see how quickly they rise and how puffy they can get. You squirm at the feeling, to which Toji chuckles.
His hands glide over your shoulders, following the slope of your neck, before gently cupping the sides of it. He can feel the bone in your neck beneath his thumbs as he lightly presses into it. Something about this level of control has his cock throbbing inside you, aching to get moving again.
"Toji?" You call, snapping him out of his little daydream.
"Oh, uh... shit, my bad," he mumbles, pulling his hands away. You grab his wrists and put his hands back, allowing him to place them around your neck again.
"Could've just said you wanted to play with my life. I'll let you do it. You know i'm open minded." You smile, too softly for what you're permitting Toji to do.
He wanted to start fucking into you again. The throbbing of his cock was already unbearable, but with the filthiness you just spewed out about letting him play with your life...? It was enough to test his resolve.
"Come on," you pant, as he starts thrusting into you again. "A little harder, daddy... Want you to make me feel lightheaded."
"Oh, fuck... you...," Toji almost moans as he thrusts into your warm, wet heat, again. "...you wanna die?" He groans, his hands twitching with the delicacy of your neck in them. He knew he wouldn't last long with this other side of you coming out to play. The way you mindlessly say the things he never expects, it kills him.
You squeak at the feeling of Toji dragging his hand down to your chest. He roughly paws at your boobs with one hand while the other takes over the entirety of you neck. You giggled, your clouded mind brimming with lustful thoughts. "Anything to make you cum, baby... You choose to not let me walk sometimes, so why not cut my oxygen for a couple seconds?"
Toji's hand was a little heavier on your neck now. Your heart started going into overdrive, your jaw hanging as you let out labored breaths that merged into sweet moans.
"Freak." Toji muttered, panting as he neared his peak.
You scoff. "Acting like you didn't turn me into this." You giggle, gently running your nails down his arms.
He breathes out a chuckle. "Gonna make me cum, mama."
"Already?" You whine, rolling your hips into him in assistance.
"You..." he groans, moving his hands down to your hips so he can pull you into his thrusts. "You can't say that when you came first."
"Joking, joking... Wanna cum on my tits? Think of it as..." you gasp sharply, feeling warm fluid shoot into you.
"Fuck, oh fuck..." Toji groans, heavy breaths released into the air as he rutted short but rapid thrusts into your squelching cunt. He managed to bring you to another orgasm with those rapid little thrusts. Sweat beaded down his temples and dripped down his neck as he found himself just grinding into you, no longer thrusting. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest and in your ears, your moans harmonizing with Toji's as you both stilled in each other's vice-like grip. His hands returned to the sides of your neck, and he got to focus on the effect it had on you, your cunt fluttering around him. You held onto him by dragging your nails across his wrists and digging your heels into his back. You could feel Toji's cum leaking out through whatever sliver of space he left in you. It drooled down your ass and onto the sheets.
You both stared at each other with looks of utter infatuation, no words exchanged, just heavy breathing as you tried to come down from the feeling of mutually delivered ecstasy. Toji wanted to kiss you, you wanted to hold him close, and as if you could communicate telepathically with each other, you got both in one. He laid down on you and pressed kisses all around your lips before finally centering his lips on yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and your hands trailed up to comb through his sweaty locks. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and he kept his hands on your thighs to pin them there.
Toji went flaccid inside you from how long you spent kissing and whispering love drunk nothings to each other. You decided to get cleaned up by taking a bath together. Normally, Toji was more of a shower kind of guy, but you made him reconsider with the promise of soapy boobs.
"You're an animal, baby. A pair of striped socks, some shorts and a t-shirt gets you going?"
Toji chuckles, leaning back against the edge of the tub. "What do you want me to say? It's a you thing."
You giggle at the little squeeze he offers your waist beneath the bubbles that submerged you and him.
"Really, ma. You could be wearing one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes and i'd still wanna fuck you." He leans in close, his lips right against your ear. "But... wear those new blue, striped long socks, put on some blue skin tight shorts, one of those t-shirts, and a little bow in your hair... around me?" He sighs, the light breath grazing the shell of your ear. "I'll make sure you have to depend on me to get around the house for days."
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luvyeni · 3 days
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p. bf!bang chan x fem!reader | warnings: established relationship, unprotected sex, riding | words: 0.5k ~ (546) 🐺ㆍ₊⊹
request: no request, someone said this is the view from when you're riding him and my brain went haywire 😵‍💫
authors note. i love him y'all don't understand
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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There wasn’t many day where chan could do this; the busy idol life had him constantly on his feet, never giving him a chance to just lay back and close his eyes— that’s why he enjoyed his days off.
Especially when you walk into your shared room, straddling in his waist, lifting his tank top up, kissing his toned stomach. his eyes opened, meeting yours— his smile making your heart fluttering. “hi baby.” his voice deep from sleep. “hi channie.”
You moved to his neck, kissing right behind his ear. “mmmh baby girl what are you doing right now?” he sighed. “i missed you channie.” you pouted. “im here baby.” his hands rest on his head. “but you still need to ask for what you want.” he kissed your cheek, you whimpered. “wanna ride you.”
“yeah?” he groaned, feeling your hips moving against his clothed cock. “that seems like a demand baby.” he teased, giggling when you whined in his ear. “so cute baby, but you still need to ask.” you pouted. “please.” you desperately pleaded. “please can i ride you?” you took your shirt off, your nipple pebbling at the air.
he cursed, his hand coming up to your boobs. “good girl, take out my cock.” he released your boob, letting you move down, lifting his hips; allowing you to pull his pants down, his cock slapping against his stomach. “you’re so hard.” he moaned when your hands wrapped around his length, stroking him. “fu-fuck baby, it's because of you.”
You pulled your shorts and panties to the side, moving up; hovering over his cock. “go a head sit down on it baby.” biting his pillowy lips as your cunt swallowed him. “oh fuck, sit on it all the way.” you moaned out, his cock filling you up. “fuuuuck , there you go baby, now ride it baby.”
You slowly rocked your hips back and forth, moaning out his name. “fu-fuck so big.” His hips involuntarily bucked up into you, his eyes shut tightly as you took over, your hands on his chest. “sh-shit baby girl, faster.” he moaned as you sped up your pace, your tight hole squeezing him. he forced his eyes open to look at you, wishing he didn’t because it only pushed his orgasm further, your titties bouncing back and forth; head thrown back as you began to bounce on me. “oh fuck -fuck- baby im about to cum.”
You kept moving, your clit rubbing against his pelvic bone, both of you gasping out as you both teetered on the edge. “please cum inside me -fuck- i want it, i want it so bad.” Your voice desperate. “of fuck, fuck im cumming!” he cursed, his orgasm triggering yours. “fuck!” you toppled over as your orgasm hitting you hard, his arms coming from behind his head, holding you steady as you came down from your high.
“fuck baby.” he chuckled tiredly, his chest rising. “i don’t think you’ve ever ridden me like that before.” Your head resting on his chest. “i told you i missed you, you’ve been so busy baby.” he rubbed your lower back. “i know baby, i know im sorry.” he kissed your forehead. “i’ll trying and get time off more often.” you smiled, placing kisses on his pecks. “thank you baby.”
“now come on baby, let’s get all cleaned up so we can cuddle.”
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©️LUVYENI
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barcaatthemoon · 3 days
Text
just a kid iii || jenni hermoso x teen!reader ||
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jenni finally meets your girlfriend, but it doesn't go according to plan.
"chiqui!" alexia flinched at the volume of jenni's voice in the very public place. you jumped up from the table and ran over to jump into the woman's arms. back at the table, alexia shot carmen an apologetic look. your girlfriend had been warned by alexia, olga, and several of your barcelona teammates how you got around jenni. they had failed to mention how much worse it seemed to get after jenni had moved away.
"jenni, i missed you," you told her. jenni smiled as she cupped your cheeks and kissed the top of your head. tucked beneath her arm, you walked with jenni back to the table. "carmen, this is jenni. jenni, this is carmen, my girlfriend."
carmen stood up, standing just a couple of inches taller than jenni. alexia smirked at the look of surprise on jenni's face. she wasn't used to people being taller than her, especially not someone so much younger. it took jenni by surprise, enough so that she didn't mention the very obvious resemblance.
"nice to meet you. i've heard a lot about you," carmen said. she held her hand out for jenni to shake. things seemed to go back to normal once everybody had sat down again. alexia almost wished that jenni had stayed quiet, but she wasn't going to complain when it obviously made you happy to be around the striker again.
carmen seemed to get kind of quiet as jenni took over your attention. alexia tried to engage your girlfriend in conversation a bit more, but it didn't seem to work very well. as much as carmen looked like jenni, she acted just as much like alexia did. according to most of your older teammates, carmen would grow out of being so awkward around people eventually, you just had to be patient.
"hey, i think that i might head home soon. it's getting kind of late," carmen told you. for the first time in what felt like forever to carmen, she had your attention. however, it didn't feel as good as she had hoped it would. you looked hurt, a pout on your face as you prepared to ask her if everything was okay. "have fun, okay?"
"you're leaving now?" you asked. carmen nodded as she stood up from the table. she got money out to pay for her part of the meal, despite alexia's protests that she had it covered. "you're leaving alone?"
"yeah, i'm going to the gym early tomorrow. have a good night." carmen leaned for a moment, and you foolishly thought she was going to give you a kiss. instead, she offered handshakes to alexia, olga, and jenni.
"bye, i love you," you muttered quietly. it really wasn't loud enough for carmen to properly hear, but you were still hurt when she didn't say anything to you. alexia noticed your shift in mood and turned to olga for help, her girlfriend being a better choice of comfort for you.
"do you want to come stay with me for a while?" jenni offered. you shrugged, having hoped to stay with carmen at her new place. it had taken you nearly two weeks to get alexia to agree on letting you spend the night over there, and the one night you get permission, carmen left hastily without you.
"am i boring you, chiquita?" jenni asked as she nudged you with her elbow. the two of you had spent the day catching up with each other, but you couldn't tear yourself away from your phone for more than a few minutes. you were going crazy waiting for the good morning text from carmen that didn't seem to be coming. you knew that she was awake, you had seen the posts on her story from the gym.
"no, sorry. it's just that carmen usually checks in with me by now," you told her. jenni frowned as she understood what you were going through. "i'm scared that she's mad at me, but i don't know what i did."
"they say that she looks like me, but that girl is all ale. trust me, it takes time to realize what little things set her off. maybe you should go see her. talk to her, make sure that she knows you love her," jenni suggested. you were nervous about showing up to her place unannounced, but you couldn't just sit back and wait for her to text you anymore.
"who says that you and carmen look alike?" you asked. none of the team had brought this up with you yet, so you were a tad bit confused.
"alexia, olga, eli, pina, jana, mapi, ingrid, and um, everybody else who has met both of us." jenni's tone may have been a bit sarcastic, but she wasn't joking. you scoffed, not believing that at all. sure, carmen was tall with dark hair and a few tattoos, but that was about it. you hadn't put that much thought into her similarities to jenni at all whenever the two of you had started dating. you were just glad that the hot girl in the gym was giving you the time of day.
"whatever," you huffed. jenni teased you a little more as she took you to carmen's apartment. you made jenni drive off, promising to call alexia if things went badly. a part of you was terrified that carmen wouldn't want anything to do with you. if what jenni said was true about everybody believing that they looked alike, you realized that you had probably made carmen jealous. and so, you very nervously made your way up to carmen's apartment.
"(y/n)?" of all the people carmen expected to see as she came out of the stairwell, you were the last one. "what are you doing here?"
"i had to come check on you. it's been three days, and you haven't answered any of my texts or calls. i've been out of my mind worrying about you," you told her. carmen rubbed the back of her neck as she shifted from one foot to the other. she could easily see the evidence of what she put you through as you played with your fingers.
"i, uh, i'm sorry too. it was stupid, but seeing you and jenni interacting, i got kind of jealous. do you want to come with me to dinner?" carmen asked you. you nodded, happily taking her hand as she led you out of her building. you were finally able to enjoy your night as the weight of your worrying was lifted from your shoulders. that night, as you let yourself get comfortable in carmen's bed, you made sure to send both jenni and alexia texts that everything had been sorted out with carmen.
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zyafics · 2 days
Text
proofs | rafe cameron
summary when you're at a party instead of finishing a math assignment due tomorrow, the answer suddenly comes to you and you need rafe's help to finish it.
reader type female, academic weapon
content (1.6k words) established relationship, rafe being a frat bro, mostly fluff with some suggestive comments at the end
credit @winterrrnight because of her comments on my inital post and dedicated to the anon who has to take the 3 hour test in a couple of days, i know ur gonna do great 💘
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
You should definitely be studying.
Instead, you're at a white lies party hosted by Rafe's fraternity. The Greek letters shining in white neon lights behind the DJ booth, which is blasting 2000s throwbacks.
The air is electrifying with a drunken buzz from the copious amounts of free alcohol from the kitchen. You were one of them. While you didn't have much, other than the red solo cup that Rafe got for you when you first arrived, it was enough to send a thrill through your system and loosen you up.
You're dancing with a random group of girl friends you found upon arrival, swaying your hips to the music with your head tilted back and a smile gleaming from your lips.
Rafe is watching you. Despite being with his frat brothers, off on the edge of the room and talking about the most random shit, his eyes always search for you from a distance. Making sure you're okay. Making sure no guy is messing with his girl.
When his gaze connects with yours, he tips his head to his direction, gesturing for you to come over. You, in your docile state from the singular beer, listen and pardon from your drunken pack of new friendships.
Rafe's arm wraps around your waist as you approach, dipping his head to deliver a greeting kiss. When you pull back, you’re a bit breathless.
"Hi, baby." He says through the loud volume of the party, the resonance of the speaker blasting the music is pumping through your body and matching your heart rate. "How's the party?"
You shrug. He knows you're still worried about your math assignment due tomorrow. It's the same paper you spent the past fourteen hours camped out in the library trying to solve. Rafe took one look at it and couldn't offer any assistance but neither was coping up in the study room till your brain is fried helping either. So, he invited you out, hoping some alcohol and music would relax you.
It works. Sort of. You are having fun, but the lingering reminder of your assignment sits in the back of your head. Edging your brain, trying to piece together the answers when you know it's there. It's a matter of time.
"Hey, Ace." One of Rafe's frat brothers, Lucas, greets. "How you been?"
You turn to him, blinking through a bit of your haze to recognize the face. "Could be better," you answer, grabbing the red solo from Rafe's hand and taking a sip for yourself. "Do you guys have anything other than beer?"
"Slow down," Lucas chuckles. "You barely attend any of our parties and you wanna start off on something hard?"
"I already drank the beer." You retort. "I gotta get something stronger. Make me forget about all my responsibilities for the night."
Rafe shakes his head, taking the cup back out of your hand and downing the rest. "You're gonna figure it out," he affirms, low enough for only you to hear, to calm your doubts and worries about getting the problem set done. "Just give yourself a break."
You frown but don't say anything else. Rafe returns into an easy conversation with the rest of his brothers, talking about an upcoming event or some random sorority girl one of them hooked up with, and you tune out. Your eyes glaze over to the dance floor in thoughts.
Your mind falls back to your mathematics. The problem flashes through your head, in perfect memory, as you recount the instructions. You consider what you were missing. Since you've been away from the assignment for the entire evening, your mind is clear from all the symbols and equations that were melting into the page.
Now, it comes fresh.
And suddenly, it all... clicks.
"Oh my god." You mutter to yourself. The shock reverberates to the rest of your body. "Oh my fucking god."
Rafe catches the end of your sentence and glances over to you. You don't look at him, pulling away from his grasp and making a direct beeline to the exit. You don't leave—no, you have no time to go back to your dorm and write this down—instead, you go to the front door where a couple of freshman brothers are acting as in-house bouncers for the party.
You tap their shoulders, and when they turn, grab the marker off the table. You don't bother to tell them, immediately uncapping and begin scribbling the problem onto your arm.
Just a few lines in, you realize it won't be enough space. The proof is too big.
Your mind is spinning. You can't go home. You won't have time before the answer flees your drunken brain. But you can't write it down. You don't have space.
Then, an idea crosses your mind.
You rush back to the dance floor, searching for Rafe. He remains at the same spot as he was last time, and when he sees you approach him, frantic and hurried, his brows pull together in concern.
"What's wrong—"
"Come on," you grab his hand and pull him away from his brothers. You don't bother apologizing for interrupting their conversations. Since you are well-acquainted with the house, you pull him to the back where you know there won't be many people.
You were right. Saved for a few drunken make-out sessions spread across the lounge, no one was there. You pull off to a quiet corner, mimicking the couples, and release your hold on him.
"Take off your shirt."
"What?" Rafe thinks he heard you wrong. You were always more conservative when it comes to sex—at least, the location—that the command seems like an auditory hallucination in his ears. "You wanna fuck?"
Normally, you would flush at such crude remarks, but you found none of that today. Too concentrated on saving your work on physical evidence, trying to remember your answers before they fade away.
He doesn't do it. He thinks you're joking.
Since he isn't complying, you start clawing at his shirt, trying to pull it off of him yourself.
He chuckles to himself. He thinks you're drunk and horny. A nice combo he has not seen from you so far. "Really, baby? Right here? I mean, I don't mind—"
"Shut up." You shush with a mumble and Rafe pushes your hands away, finally taking off his shirt for you. The white lie scribbled in his handwriting: I said I don't hate you, is thrown on his arm.
"Happy?"
You didn't even get the chance to admire him. The tone muscles. The perfect planes of his chest. Instead, you say, "turn around."
"New position?"
"Shut. Up!"
All he does is laugh, catching the attention of a couple of college students who pull away from amorous kisses to spare a glance in your direction. While there's a faint heat tinting your cheeks, from your boyfriend's words, you don't care. You were in a feverish state.
Rafe does what you say. He turns and you uncap the marker, starting at the edge of his shoulder blades and begin writing down your proof. Your assignment requires you to prove an equation for being true, utilizing implicit differentiation, trigonometry identities and partial derivatives. You've been stuck on it for the past three days.
Now, it's coming in waves. Of course you would shift it around. Of course you would have to cut the variables in half and move them to the other side. Of course you would forgo the x for the z, and vice versa. Of course, of course, of course.
Rafe feels the tip of the marker moving against his skin quickly, in rapid succession, trying to get everything down. At the rate you're going, you could be smearing the answers across his back instead of getting to your solution.
When you finish, your hand aching from how fast you were going, his entire back is covered in mathematical symbols and equations. Your eyes check through your proof, descending down until you get to his waist, and clears it's correct. "Done."
Rafe turns back around, raising a brow.
"What did you just write?"
You beam in pride. "I just finished my homework."
"On my back?"
You laugh, your lips pulled together in a genuine smile. Something he's glad you're showing off, after seeing how stressed you were with figuring out the puzzle. He’s proud of you. "I told you you'll get it. My brothers call you Ace for a reason."
You roll your eyes at the nickname. Since Rafe goes off and always brags about how smart you are—how you are the first one in your class to raise your hand, how you graduated valedictorian from your high school, and how you've been on the Dean's List for the past two consecutive years—his fraternity brothers has declared you a clear winner. An Ace, if you will.
Rafe glances down at you, at your white lie written across your short top, and licks his bottom lip.
"What?" You ask.
"I find it unfair you get to write shit on me but I can't do the same."
"What do you want to do? Sign my tits?"
He gives you a look that says that isn't a bad idea and you roll your eyes at your boyfriend. Of course.
You uncap the marker, handing it to him. He takes it, leaning forward and tugging down your white top to reveal your bra and begins scribbling his signature across your breasts. You giggle at the sensation.
When he finishes, you glance down to see he did sign it. Alongside with another message.
Not Rafe Cameron's Property.
"God, you're a caveman," you declare with a laugh, knowing this follows along with the white lie protocol.
"And you're mine."
He throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. He doesn't even bother to throw his shirt back on; displaying the intelligence of your scribbles on his back in full glory.
"Now, let's rejoin the party and celebrate."
IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 3 days
Text
To Call You Mine
Chapter 11
Authors note: don't ask me how you'd determine a babys birth gender in an Omegaverse, just pretend with me lmao
Word count: 1564
Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist TCYM Masterlist
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4 months
   You lazily stretch as you sit up in the nest, trying your best to not wake the sleeping Omega by your side just yet. One free from your still slumbering mates hold, you tiptoe off to the bathroom to take care of your business before you head to make breakfast.
   Now in the kitchen, you pull a package of bacon and the carton of eggs out of the fridge and bring them over to the counter next to the stove. You grab a couple of pans and turn on the burners, waiting for them to warm up before you lay a few slices of meat in one and crack a few eggs in the other. You add a pinch of spices and some minced veggies to them before mixing up the yolks and whites, getting everything well and scrambled as they cook.
   The delicious aromas make their way back to the bedroom, which causes Natasha to stir from her slumber. She groggily blinks away the remainder of sleep before checking in on Dima on the monitor. Satisfied that he's still asleep she tosses her blanket aside and makes her way to the kitchen.
   A smile spreads across her face as she sees you at the stove, cooking a meal for your family. Getting to witness and experience what she never thought she’d get with you, always elicits a warmth within her, like all the love and safety you've ever shown her has just made a home there within her. And she really hopes that never goes away. A meow pulls her from her thoughts and she stifles a giggle when she sees the small black furball pawing at your ankle, looking up at you as if she’d not had a meal all month.
   “Don’t give me that look, little miss” you coo at her, though all it gets you is another pitiful meow, “Oh fine, even though you don’t need it, I can’t say no when you look at me like that.”
   Liho patiently waits as you cut up a small piece of bacon for her, and you can’t believe how the feline has both you and Nat wrapped around her paw already. If this is how bad you both are with a cat, you worry what it'll be like once the pups are all talking properly. They're all going to be so spoiled, not that you truly minded. Afterall, you’d have spoiled Natasha much more than you already had if it didn’t surpass her comfort levels. 
   “Here, eat up you little menace” you tell her, placing the bacon in front of her before patting her head
   “That better not be my bacon you just gave away”
   You turn around and smile at your adorable Omega, who still has sleep tousled hair, “I don’t have a death wish, baby. I know not to touch your bacon”
   “Good” she affirms, but the smile on her lips confirms she's only teasing, “I wouldn’t want you to have to sleep on the couch”
   You laugh, “Wow, not only banned from the nest, but the bed too”
   She shrugs, “I take my bacon very seriously” 
   “You know what I take seriously?” you ask, not waiting for a reply, “My morning kisses”
   She smiles and shakes her head at your antics, but doesn’t hesitate to step forward into your awaiting arms. Your hands rest on her hips protectively as she leans forward to connect her lips to yours in a gentle kiss.
   “Better?” she teases, pulling back from you slightly
   You lean in to peck her lips a second time, “Now it is”
   A cute blush settles across her cheeks and she decides she wants to distract you so you don’t comment on it, “Are you excited for today?”
   “Of course I am!” you reply, eyes lighting up as you look at her, “I can’t wait to see how many you're carrying! And so long as they're healthy, I’ll be happy!”
  Nats smile widens almost impossibly. Bruce hadn’t cared one way or the other how many she was with, all he cared about was the fact that he had succeeded in getting her knocked up after how much resistance she had given him. And he was also adamant that it had better be a son. He needed to have one so badly that she was actually scared of what he'd do if she ended up having just a girl. But thankfully the universe had been kind enough to appease him, and now it had finally been kind to her.
    “What about you, detka(baby)?”
   Your voice brings her back to the present and she nods, “I am too, and as much as I’ll love them regardless, I really do want a little girl”
   You adoringly watch on as she brings a hand up to caress her bump, and you know then that if you haven’t been successful with getting a girl this time, you would happily try again and again if necessary.
   “3 o'clock really can’t come soon enough”
   She chuckles, “I was just thinking the same thing. But let's eat breakfast and maybe time will pass by a bit quicker once I get Dima up”
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   Time does indeed move faster once your pup is awake and fed, and before you even know it you and your mate are greeting Yelena at the door. You exchange quick pleasantries with her as well as thanking her for coming over to watch her nephew. She of course only waves you off
   “It's no trouble. He is my nephew afterall. Besides, he and I get along like a house on fire!”
   Nat turns her gaze away from her sister beaming smile and to you, “That's what worries me”
   Yelena pouts a bit, obviously having heard but she remains quiet, at a loss for what to say just yet. And you shrug, “I think it's safe enough for now. When he gets older though and can walk and talk properly, we may have a problem then” 
   “Hey! I am right here!” the blonde speaks up with a dramatic flair of her hands
   You and your mate both chuckle, and your Omega moves to embrace her sister once more, “And we thank you so much for being her and being the brunt of our jokes.”
   “Yeah yeah” she mumbles, hugging Nat back regardless, “Now go on, I know how excited you both are so stop tormenting me and get to your appointment”
   Your Omega eagerly nods and removes herself to say another quick goodbye to Dima which you join her in. As the two of you went to the garage you can hear the Beta call out, “I expect a phone call as soon as you leave the doctors!”
   You chuckle at how excited she is, knowing you both feel the same way, “We’ll call you!”
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   Once at the doctor's office the two of you can hardly contain your excitement. Sitting next to you, Natasha is practically vibrating. If someone didn’t know better they'd think she was overly jittery due to too many cups of coffee. But you knew that wasn’t the case, and so her actions were quite adorable.
   You were about to offer up some words to help ease her nerves and calm her a bit, but before you get the chance a nurse opens the door to the waiting room and calls her name. The two of you follow her back down the hallway until you get to the room she's chosen for you both. She takes your Omegas blood pressure and listens to her heart beat before helping her get settled on the bed. She gets the ultrasound machine ready and then leaves to get the doctor.
   “You okay, Omega?” you ask, reaching out to grab her hand
   She nods, “Just a little nervous. I don’t want anything to be wrong”
   “I know detka(baby)” you offer her a reassuring smile, “Just remember that I’m right here”
   She nods just as the doctor enters. She exchanges greetings with the two of you before getting settled at the ultrasound machine. She lifts up your mate's shirt and slides her pants waistband down a bit to fully expose her bump, followed by her squeezing some of the cold gel onto her skin there. Natasha shudders a bit at its temperature and the doctor apologizes. She slowly moves the wand around while studying the screen in front of her. Though you know it's less than a minute, it feels like she's silent for an hour before she finally speaks
   “Everything is looking really good. Both mom and pups look healthy”
   “Pups?” Nats asks, her eyes lighting up as she smiles at you
   The doctor smiles and turns the screen towards the two of you and you both watch as a fuzzy black and white image takes shape, “Right there you can see them both”
    Natashas eyes begin to water as she sees the pups outlines, “We’re having twins, Alpha”
  “Yeah we are” you respond, a few tears of your own building, “Can you tell what they are?”
   The doctor looks back at the screen for a few moments before answering, “Congrats, looks like you're having two little girls”
   Natashas hand tightens its grip on yours and you offer her a brilliant smile, “Hear that Omega? Girls.”
   She matches your smile with one of her own, “I can’t wait to tell Yelena”
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Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming  @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @naslt @lattayhottay16 @yelenabelov-ed @thatonebrazilian @that-one-gay-mosquito @marvelwomen-simp @wannabe-fic-reader @tashakink @whitewidowsbite @smromanoff
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xiao-come-home · 1 day
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Boothill and his s/o BUT after Boothill d!3s and becomes a cyborg, the ones who brought him back erase his memories of his s/o and now he’s either distant or resentful of their s/o🥹
Clutches my shirt in pain
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Boothill isn't sure who you are and why you keep following him. You don't seem to be dangerous, so he doesn't fight you - but the way he meets you in the same places makes him feel suspicious about you.
You, on the other hand - not only mourn the loss of your beloved once, but twice - he's lost his body, seemingly getting turned into a cyborg, but what makes your heart bleed is the lack of memories you've shared together for so long.
He doesn't remember you.
But there's something, something that he feels is attracting him to you. Boothill notices the heartbreak on your face eventually once he sets his gaze on you long enough, but avoids eye contact once you're the one looking at him.
There's something familiar about you, but he doesn't know what exactly. The longer he tries to ignore the feeling, the worse it gets - and by "worse," it means he's closer and closer to finally speaking you.
That one day he sees you at the same bar he's always gone to, drinking the exact same beverage as him, sitting on his seat—
He caves in and finally gets the conversation going. It flows so nicely, he doesn't pay attention to the time anymore; his now unrecognizable hand seems to make its way to wipe the tears that started to run down your cheeks unexpectedly, but Boothill only realizes his actions when you stare at him and freeze in place.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I—"
"No, it's oka—"
"It's gettin' late. A pretty thing like ya shouldn't be goin' home all alone. Would ya let a cowboy like me to help out?"
Boothill extends his arm to you.
You accept his invitation, your hand still fitting perfectly in his, missing only the warmth that once used to be there.
Perhaps there's still a chance to start from the beginning again.
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daenysx · 2 days
Text
trying to go back to writing!!! hope you enjoy ♡
james potter x fem!reader, modern au. smut -the sight of james wearing grey sweatpants drives you crazy
"james-" you whine, it's a pretty sound and james likes it very much. his lips curve upwards, eyes shining with the spark of longing. you arch your back, so helpless and needy, it makes you blush hard on your cheeks. "please."
james kisses your forehead before leaning in to take your nipple into his mouth. you push your chest towards him, his fingers find the other one to pinch it lightly. he sucks the bud slowly, his eyes closed and brows furrowed. you know he likes feeling you in his mouth but it's been long since you got him in your bed like this. you want him so much, it pains you.
"baby." you say, hand lost in james's curls. "i need you." he has a weakness, the entire world stops when you call him baby. he lifts his head, helps you lie down properly on the bed. he takes off your panties quickly, you never protest. your legs melt around his waist as he gets closer to kiss your lips.
"i'm sorry." he says, he means it. "you've been so patient, sweetheart. i'll give you anything you need, i promise."
you give him the best smile you can manage. he smiles back, kisses you on your chin. his hands angle your thighs to spread your cunt open. it feels weird and maddening for a moment, you lick your lips. james kisses your neck before he drags his fingers to your wetness.
"my little baby." he whispers. "my good girl, look at that."
he pushes a gentle finger inside you, your cunt clenches tightly. his thumb starts rubbing slow circles on your clit. "make a mess for me. we both deserve it."
it's been a long week of exams for you and james had training almost every day. you missed him terribly and having him between your legs now feels more intense than it ever has been. he's so good at what he's doing, it drives you insane. james adds one more finger, moving in and out with a certain angle. you throw your head back when he finds your sweet spot, the softness that never fails to make your world shatter.
"please, please." you start stuttering. "need it so bad, jamie. please."
james coos, his hardness pressing against his boxers painfully. he strokes his cock with his free hand, he groans silently. you watch him through hazy eyes, you can feel how wet you are around his fingers. he looks like a statue, all muscles and a perfect bone structure. his one hand tries to relieve himself as the other one plays with you. the sight of him almost makes you faint, it's insane.
"don't pout, pretty girl. i'm just trying to get you ready."
"i've been ready since i saw you in those grey sweatpants." you whimper.
"fuck." he says, hand stroking his cock harder. "want me inside, huh?"
"i need it." you push yourself to his fingers desperately. "do you want me to beg?"
james kisses you sweetly as if he isn't the one who teases you until you break. "never. i'd never make you beg."
he keeps the promise, frees himself of his boxers quickly. he grabs your thighs a bit roughly, you love the way he holds your flesh in strong hands. he hits your clit with the tip of his cock first, you can't help but clenching around nothing. james smiles lazily, he hits again.
"look at you." he says. "look here, sweetheart. i want you to watch."
you lift your head a bit and james finally motions himself to your hole. it's a tight fit, he goes slow at first. you are thankful for his stamina, you like it the best when he's taking his time.
"look, baby." he whispers. "only one week and you are so tight around me."
you nod, wrapping your legs around him. he is helpless, pushes himself into you. it's so wet, the mess on the sheets grow incredibly. you don't care, you want him deeper. finally you can reach his shoulders, his neck is so close to your lips.
"can i move?" he asks. "are you okay?"
"please move." you say, kissing his neck. "please, baby."
he wraps an arms around your shoulders to reach your hair. his hand goes to your scalp to massage lightly, he moves deeper at the same time. you moan when he pulls your hair just a bit, it doesn't hurt but it's too arousing, you don't know what to do. he gives you a sympathetic smile, pulls again.
and then it falls into a certain rhytm, james keeps moving with his hand on your neck. he pushes himself in a way that makes your thighs shake. you keep saying his name to his ear, mumbling words to encourage him as he fucks deep into you.
you can't even form a word when it comes close to the ending. you hear a loud moaning, not sure if it's you or james. all you can do is holding onto him as you come, feeling a liquid dripping down onto the sheets. you hold james's shoulders blindly, the clouds in your mind part as the tightness slowly disappears.
james pulls out as he comes. thick, white droplets cover your stomach. he thinks it's cute; the way you keep clenching even when you finish, the way your hands are desperate for support. he lets out a tiny groan as he strokes his cock for final drops, he's spent.
it confuses you most of the time, how you feel the need to do it one more time even though you are dead tired. james stays on top of you like a giant human blanket. he runs hot, sweat covers his skin. you stroke his back, muscles sliding under your fingers.
"are you okay?" he asks against your ear. "need to hear you, baby."
you nod tiredly. "i'm okay." you whisper. "you?"
he kisses the side of your head. "i'm fine."
he tries to move but you hold him back with weak hands. "jamie."
"just gotta clean us up, lovely." he says. "two minutes."
"i'm counting." you say with a hushed voice.
he keeps the promise. you help him as much as you can but your legs let you down when you try to pull your clean panties up. james completes the task with heart-eyes.
the sheets are ruined, he throws them into the washing machine. he finds clean, white sheets and spreads it on the bed with the slow help of your shaky fingers.
"come on." you say, laying back on bed. "come here."
james smiles at your whining tone. such a perfect girl, looking at him with shiny eyes. you extend a hand, he accepts greedily.
he pulls you on his bare chest with a hand on your waist. "so," he starts. "what about my grey sweatpants?"
you don't even bother to hide. "they look amazing on you."
"yeah?" his tone is teasing but you gladly fall into the trap of giving him compliments.
"i like the way they wrap around your legs." you continue. "just- looks perfect."
he kisses your forehead when you close your eyes. so sleepy and so pretty. he wants to keep you like this. he wants to take the load off your shoulders and carry it without complaining. he wants to shower you with his affection, wants to kiss you until you fall asleep before him.
"i love you." he says. you are already sleeping.
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pablitogavii · 2 days
Note
When the reader is mad at gavi and he just keeps apologizing and it's soo cute?
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I told him ten times NOT to leave his shoes everywhere! On top having a horrible day at uni, submitting my project late and fighting with my best friend now I have to deal with this! Just great!
"Pablo! What do we do with training shoes!?" I said but he didn't reply obviously oblivious with his gaming head set on laughing with Pedri about something.
Usually I wouldn't care so much but today was such a bad day and I wasn't having it standing right in front of his screen making him notice me finally.
"Perdon chicos but I have a hot distraction here..dame un besito mi amor!" Pablo smirked reaching for me but then I tossed the shoes right in front of him and walked away making him confused.
"Looks like mi chica had a bad day, gotta go!" he said logging out and following after me into the bedroom seeing me at my makeup vanity taking off my makeup in silence.
"Amor, que pasa? Why are you enojada?" he asked but I was done talking for the night last thing I wanted was to fight with him too.
"Silent treatment don't work with me principesa, I'll make you talk.." Pablo smirked trying to kiss my neck but I pulled away not really in the mood for his little ministrations.
"Princesa porfi habla conmigo.." he said but I really couldn't do that right now so I just walked past him to the bathroom and he followed me like a lost puppy. Poor Pablito...
"Aii at least dame un besito and I'll leave you alone, I promise!" he said pouting and I couldn't resist just pecking his lips and pulling away but before I could his arms snaked around my waist roughly kissing me with passion and I sighed walking away.
He really did leave me shower and change which I appreciated since I needed my space right now. When i came to bed tho I started to miss him..I'm not used to not talk to him about my day, to have him hold me and tell me it's okay and to kiss me goodnight.
"Umm P..Pablito?.." I said not too loud so if he doesn't come, I can just pretend that's because he couldn't hear me.
"Couldn't wait for you to call mi amor! Mi princesa! Mi vida!" he was quickly on the bed pulling me in and I giggled but still decided to act "angry" with him. WHo can be angry with this boy!?
"Aiii no porfi enough with the silence..I wanna hear my girl's pretty voice again..how you call me Pablito..say it.." he said holding my face and I just smiled refusing to talk.
"Amor say it...porfiii" he said nuzzling his face into my neck leaving butterfly kisses and since he didn't shave this morning there was a little facial hair (nothing crazy) that was tickling me so I giggled and that gave him an idea.
"If you don't say it I'mma tickle you till you cry!" he said giving me a moment to talk but when I refused he started tickling my sides pulling me underneath him and I was laughing so hard my chest hurt.
"P..Pablo..st..op..porfavorr" I begged him really feeling tears coming to my eye but he wasn't back away moving closer to my ear to whisper his words.
"That's not my name amor..say..it..right" he said and I couldn't hold it back anymore.
"Pablito! Stop!" I said and he finally let go letting me catch my breath and laying besides me instead.
"Now tell your Pablito why are you enojada with him, Hermosa?" he said and I moved closer hiding my face into his neck and leaving a few kisses there..he smelled like him..like home and I was finally able to relax.
"Long day amor..very long day" I answer and he kissed my head nodding his head and holding me tightly just like he knew I needed.
"And your annoying boyfriend leaving shoes all over the house?" he added and I giggled knowing it was silly as I nodded my head.
"Lo siento hermosa, I put away all my shoes just like you like.."he said and I looked up smiling at his handsome face..he really cared so much about me that it was impossible not to kiss him right now.
"I love you Pablito.." I said as I moved away from the kiss and he smiled nodding his head.
"I know mi vida..and I love you so much..even when you're enojada comigo" he smiled kissing me again before we cuddled up and got some well deserved rest together.
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c00kieguy · 3 days
Text
Thigh Pillow
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relationships: Dr. Ratio x GN!Reader summary: You read the title, you saw the header, we both know where this is going cw: just fluff and humor a/n: wrote this after that one Ratio thigh jiggle post, very rushed wc: ~700 masterlist
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"I have a headache." 
Ratio peeks at you from behind his stone tablet, a pair of red eyes stare back at your own, his face filled with worry. You weren't usually one to blatantly say such things, so when the scholar sees you here staring at him instead of getting up to do something about the headache yourself, he assumes it must mean you're in a lot of pain.
"Do you want me to brew you some tea?" He offers. Lowering his book he scans your face for any other signs of discomfort. If it was a fever he'd have to start dealing with it immediately lest it develop into something much worse later on. Your behavior was certainly unusual however, despite supposedly being in pain you're just there, staring at him expectantly, as if you wanted a treat...
"No, that's fine, I could use a nap though." Ratio starts to suspect this might be one of your pranks. It certainly had to be, from the way you never took your eyes off of him to the uneasy tapping of your feet, you were definitely hiding something. Either way he didn't feel like entertaining you so he goes back to his book, thinking you'd head back to your own room to slumber. But when you don't take your eyes off of him even then he gives you a questioning look.
"Oh, here?" Assuming you plan to sleep on the couch he prepares to get up. "I'll leave you to it then."
"No wait!" You frantically reach out to him as he gets up. "You can stay." 
"There'll certainly be more room on this couch without me." He huffs out. Ratio was starting to get annoyed now. He hated the way you keep trying to imply something but never actually tell him directly. Would it kill you to be more upfront with your words? It's not like he could read your mind.
"But then I'll miss you." You give him a fake pout. The man lets out an exasperated sigh and plops back down on the cushion, making sure to stick as close to the arm rest as possible so you have more room to sleep. If you wanted to sleep in the comfort of his presence all you had to do was ask. He's just glad he managed to figure you out quickly.
"Go ahead, I'll wake you up in a few hours." He absentmindedly says while opening his stone tablet again. Finally, some peace and quiet.
"I could use a pillow." He slams it shut. You were really starting to test his patience.
"Here." He grumbles as he pulls out the pillow from his back and tosses it to you. "Would that be all?" 
"I want a blue pillow..." Now he's just lost, why did it matter to you what color the pillow was? Why blue in particular? Was it some sort of superstition you believed in? Did it-
He notices the way your eyes trail down his body. Following your line of sight his eyes land on his legs, or perhaps his thighs-
Oh, thighs, the same ones covered in blue fabric, his pants. Of course. What other reason would you have to go through such lengths? His expression softens a little at the realization you just wanted to lay on his lap.
"You..." He grumbles as he massages his temple. To think the whole fiasco was just for this? Unbelievable. Letting out his nth sigh of the day he regains his composure and pats his thigh. "Come on, lie down then." He finds it amusing how your eyes immediately light up. Shuffling over you drop your head on his lap, the softness of it instantly improving your mood. You truly loved this feeling, there was no better place you could think of to doze off at. 
"Next time, don't bother beating around the bush. Use your words properly. Understood?" You hum in response. There really was something magical about him since you found your eyelids feeling heavy already. Ratio gently brushes aside a few strands of hair to get a better look at your blissful face, he had to admit he liked this side of you. Although he didn't appreciate it too much being left in the dark and guessing, seeing you in this state, so fully open and vulnerable with him, made it all a little more worth it.
"Rest well."
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masterlist
© c00kieguy ➼ do not repost/copy/translate (without my permission) or claim any of my works as your own. Reblogs are appreciated ❣
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mattyriddlesbitch · 2 days
Note
Oh my good oh my GOD kinda modern au,. Slythern truth or dare happenings- the dare mattheo is to look through readers camera roll and showcase the most embarrassing photo. Reader thinks nothing of it and forgets about the set of nudes taken that got sent to no one. But then you see his face redden and jaw clench and then it just continues but he confronts her after
Yes! I gotchu!
Truth or Dare
Mattheo Riddle x F!reader
Warnings: Oral(Female receiving), fingering, cussing, unprotected sex
18+ Minors DNI!
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You were sitting with your friends, Pansy, Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo, Draco and Blaise after one of their parties ended, all of you still pretty drunk, but slowly sobering up. You guys were playing truth or dare and it was Theodore’s turn.
“(Y/N), truth or dare?” He asked from his spot as he laid on the couch.
“Dare.” You smiled, kneeling in front of the table on the floor.
“I dare you to let Mattheo go through your phone to show us your most embarrassing photo.” Theo smiled back.
You handed your phone to Mattheo, who was sitting on the couch that you were in front of. You didn’t know Mattheo had a crush on you. But Theo did. And he saw this as a chance to let Mattheo go through your phone without you caring since you were drunk.
Mattheo looked through your phone, smiling as well. He stops scrolling, smile fading slightly as his face reddens. He stares for a few seconds more before scrolling again. You almost missed the way his jaw clenched. After a few moments, he found a picture and showed everyone, making them all laugh, but he stared at you. His eyes roaming over you in an almost possessive way. He gave you your phone back and leaned back on the couch, keeping a fake smile.
People slowly excused themselves to bed and finally you decided to as well. Mattheo excused himself, too, offering to walk you back. You just nodded, a little too tired and still a little tipsy to care. He walked you with a hand on the small of your back.
Once you reached your dorm, he closed the door behind him. You sat down on your bed, taking off your shoes before realizing he was still there.
“You okay?” You asked him.
“You had nudes on your phone.” He said bluntly as he stared at you.
Your face heated up, remembering the nudes you took. You did it just to feel good about yourself, not to send to anyone. “Fuck. I forgot about those.”
“Clearly.” You could hear the irritation in his tone.
“I should’ve deleted those. I’m sorry. That’s embarrassing.” You said, avoiding eye contact as you tossed your shoes to the side.
“Who’d you send those to?” He asked, his eyes never leaving you.
“No one.” You admitted, fiddling with the end of your skirt.
“Most people don’t take nudes for ‘no one.’” He said, walking over to you so he stood in front of you.
“Well, I did. No one got those photos.” You said, shrugging slightly as you watch your hands playing with the hem of your skirt.
“Why would you take them then?”
“Just to feel better about myself.” You shrugged again, feeling awkward about the whole encounter.
He raised your head up to meet his eyes with a finger under your chin, leaning down to get closer to your face. “So no one else got to see your little nudes you took? Just me?”
“Yeah. Just you.” You nodded, staring him in the eyes, still blushing incredibly hard.
“You know, you're so pretty.” His tone became soft, his eyes wandering along your body for a moment before he decided to lean down further and kiss you.
Your tipsy mind took a few seconds to respond before kissing him back. He pushed you to lay down on the bed, nudging himself between your legs.
He made quick work of your clothes, he had seen you naked already, now he wanted to feel you. He leaned back once he got you naked, admiring you. His hands wandered along your body, feeling your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, your arms.
“You're fucking beautiful. You don't know how mad I got thinking you sent those pictures to someone else.” He admitted. “I've wanted you all to myself for a while now.”
“This seems a little unfair right now.” You squirmed under his touch. “You getting to see me naked but I haven't seen you naked.”
“So impatient.” He tsked before slipping his fingers inside you. “Fuck, you're soaked.”
“Matty, please!” You grabbed onto his wrist.
“Let me take my time with you.” He grabbed your hand and held it down to your side with his free hand.
You moaned, squeezing your legs around his sides as they tried closing on his hand.
“I've been thinking about getting you like this for so long. Thinking about touching you like this. Thinking about how you feel.” He kneeled down between your legs. “How you taste.” He said before licking your pussy. He let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your thigh to keep them opened, your hands moving to tangle in his hair.
“Fuck, Matty, so good.” You moaned, watching him as he ate your sweet cunt. His eyes were locked on your face, wanting to see every reaction he could pull from you.
He just wanted to hear all your pretty sounds, feel you tug his hair, have you cum on his face. His finger and mouth kept their assault on you, making your legs shake around his head, making you try bucking into his face, making you moan and cry, until he finally made you cum as you cried out his name. He groaned as you pulled on his hair, helping you ride out your orgasm.
“You're fucking perfect when you cum, baby.” He said as he stood up, now stripping down himself. “You gonna give me one more, yeah?” He asked as he settled back between your thighs, sliding his dick through your folds, nudging at your clit.
“Yeah.” You nodded, biting your lip as you watched his cock.
“Good girl. You just lay there and look pretty.” He eased his tip into you, hearing your moan as he began to stretch you out. He slowly pushed in, wanting you to feel every inch as he did. “You're so fucking tight, princess. Feels so fucking good.”
“Fuck, so big.” You whined, hands gripping at the sheets.
“It's gonna feel so good, baby. Gonna mold you to my cock so no one else feels as good as me.” He said before he started rocking his hips. You both moaned as he leaned down over you, his hands roaming over your skin again, landing on your breasts. He massaged them with his hands, pulling one away after a moment to attach his lips to your nipple.
“Fuck, that feels good, Matty.” You moaned, back arching into his mouth.
He started thrusting faster, harder, wanting to make you feel good, wanting to bury his  cock deeper in you. “You have no idea what you do to me, angel. I need you to cum on my cock. Need to feel you squeezing my dick.”
Your hands moved to hold onto his arms, feeling the muscles as he held himself over you. You were moaning and whimpering, eyes rolling back from the pleasure.
“That's it. Who's making you feel this good? Who's dick is in you right now?” He asked, hips relentlessly driving into yours.
“You! Your dick! Fuck, Matty!” You cried out, feeling your orgasm about to hit.
“That's right, princess. Mine. Cum on my cock.”
Your orgasm hit you hard and your body shook as you cried out his name along with some profanity. He helped ride out your orgasm before pulling out and cumming on your stomach.
“You're mine now.” He said softly before kissing you.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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churipu · 3 days
Note
Regular life AU!
Salaryman!Nanami x Sleepyhead!Reader
Reader loves to take naps and Nanami loves to over work so Reader always forces Nami to take naps with her when she’s tired because she knows he’s tired too.
She invades his office covered in her blanket and stands in front of Nanami until he picks her up and they go sleep ;-;
Sometimes he tries to plead with her to wait longer but she doesn’t budge at all 🤣
𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 .ᐟ
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────── 𝕴 . featuring. nanami kento x fem! reader
────── 𝕴 . warnings. non-sorcerer au! nanami being the man he is, i miss him :(
note. i'm in a lecture right now, and i'm bored out of my mind — but hii nonnie, i absolutely love this idea, i love sleeping and this request is just so cute :( i hope you like this!
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"hi, sweetheart." nanami whispers, his hand busy gripping on the pen as he craned his neck from side to side, from paper to paper, "why aren't you napping?"
you furrowed your brows, "i was napping, until i turned over to hug my boyfriend and he's gone."
nanami's eyes promptly averted to yours, the corner of his lips tugging up into a small, exhausted smile, "you know i'm a little busy, right? i really have to get this done the day after tomorrow — i promise i'll be back in bed to nap with you."
his voice was soft, almost inaudible. the exhaustion forming under his eyes was apparent.
"not even just for a few hours?" you questioned, standing in front of his desk — bundled inside a white colored blanket, "you need to rest too, kento. look at you."
"i know, darling. i just need to get this done real quick, okay?" he laid his pen down, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"just for a few hours, please?" you tell him, knowing he wouldn't be able to lay himself to rest unless you forced him to.
nanami is a hard worker. i think that should be fairly obvious — he over works a lot, even after office hours. which was a pet peeve to you that he's discarding his own health away for work. and no matter how hard you tried, he just won't stop.
"i know, love. in a minute. okay?"
his question received no answer. that made his eyes rise up to meet yours and they weren't happy. nanami chuckles, he leaned back onto his chair, "you. me. nap. now."
slowly, he stands up and stretches his arms upwards, "i'm sorry for being so absent lately, come here," the man opens his arms for you to fall into.
and so you did, jumping into his arms.
he pats your hair, tightening the blanket around you — before prompting to carry you up, sauntering back to the bedroom, "feel better?"
nodding, you placed your face in between his neck and shoulder, "much better, and you stink."
his body vibrated as he stifled back a laugh, kissing the top of your head, "i haven't had the time to shower after coming back from work, i'm sorry," nanami explains.
shaking your head, you huffed, "i know, it's okay. i still love you though."
nanami whispers back, "i love you too."
he entered the bedroom, laying you down on the bed — gently pulling the covers off you, tucking you in like how a mother would to her child. can't say that you didn't enjoy the pampering.
"i'm going to take a quick shower, i'll be back," nanami leans down, kissing the tip of your nose, making you subconsciously scrunch it.
"don't take too long," you rolled your eyes.
"i won't, darling."
as he got up to leave, you grabbed the hem of his shirt, "i want something before you go shower."
nanami raised a brow, waiting for your statement. but you didn't, all he saw was you puckering your lips out slightly — nanami smiled, pulling you in by your neck, planting his lips onto yours.
"i love you, ken."
he kissed you again, "i love you too."
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© churipu 2024 , do not copy or repost anywhere
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anadiasmount · 1 day
Note
u and jude being in the same friend group and ur all together on a trip, though jude has been in love with you since day one and on the first night there u two sleep together, leaving u confused and wishing for more knowing things couldn’t be the same after the special night <3
no one knows - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: request above!
wc: 2.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: hii!! ik i said this would be posted sooner but i got sidetracked (what’s new… also don't hate me i didn't proof read...) ANYWAYS... this does contain small bit of smut so minors dni! like always hope you enjoy 🤍
the soft waves of the hammock you laid on rocked slowly as you stared out into the almost night sky. the different shades of orange now purple and blue, tiny star appearing in the distance, waves hitting the shore making the whole atmosphere just at peace. it was a king day of travel, having missed your first flight due to a delay on the train.
you had arrived last, but it didn’t matter because you were finally with your friends, wanting to make most of the trip you had planned. you changed into a knitted crème color swimsuit, loving how it fit and hugged your figure, accentuating your curves and pushing up your cleavage just right.
everyone inside was asleep, but you couldn’t go to sleep without wanting to watch the night fall. you loved the beach, the smell, the feel of sand, how your hair went to its natural state, and the feeling of freedom. you quickly got distracted by the click of the door opening, footsteps approaching where you were.
“hi,” you squeak as you see jude lean against the palm tree pole, shirtless and wearing similar shorts as your bathing suit. “you okay? you were the last to arrive and your here alone,” jude asked softly not being able to hold back the gulp at how dreamingly your body looked under this ray and light.
“i’m okay… just can’t sleep for some reason,” you stifle a small laugh, “plus i haven’t seen a view like this in so long, i just wanted too see it, i mean take a look.” jude obliged, looking around in a daze at how the night sky looked now. “yeah you’re right… i feel at ease,” jude nodded.
“how come you’re still up? is everything okay with you?” you sat up, propping your elbow and the back of your hand resting on your temple, your full attention on jude. you couldn’t deny but feel a tad bit confused he was here. jude never really spoke to you an when he did it was short and simple. so you wouldn’t be surprised if he made small talk and left.
“jet leg i guess? you’d think after all the constant travel i’d be used to it but it’s always difficult to fall asleep after a long flight for me,” jude explained taking a seat on the wood chair that was by the balcony. you hummed in response, your hand dragging up from your thigh to your hip letting it rest.
you sensed he wanted to tell you more, his fingers tapping against his massive and toned thighs, his eyes adverting from you to the sea. jude wasn’t shy, quite the opposite, and he knew in this moment it was now or never. “do i make you nervous?” you ask slyly, standing and walking over to him. you hated feeling awkward and left out around him, and you needed to know the reason behind it.
jude was a complete different person in his games, in public, around your friends, yet, he treats you so differently which threw you off the edge. jude roamed your eyes from your tanned shiny legs, your curved torso and bust, his heart stammering against his chest as you looked so willingly and utterly beautiful. “or do you just hate me?”
“hate you? why would i hate you?”
“don’t know… you tell me. it’s like this every time we’re around each other. the tension? you can’t even look into my face? you barely speak a word to me? if i’ve done something to offend you, let me know so i can apologize,” you spoke dearly, following his exact movements by roaming your eyes on his figure. legs spread out begging to be touch, abs defined, with veins adorning his arms. jude was fucked, all he could think about was you in this damn bathing suit and the silly theory you made in your head.
hate you? that’s impossible.
“what if i told you it was the opposite? what if i told you i’m infatuated by you?” jude looked up, standing and over towering you, your gaze shifted from confident to shy. your eyes lowering as jude looked down at you. “that when i’m around you all i can think about is you. how you look, smile, talk and walk, smell… it’s so infuriating to be this madly in love with you and not being able to do a thing about it…” jude confessed, drawing the air out of your lungs, like the wind that breezed the night sea.
“i feel like you’re lying to me…” you couldn’t help but say. a hesitance of insecurity, and that’s there’s absolutely no way this man was in love or was confessing any sort of feelings when actions proved otherwise. “why would i lie to you hm? i’m being completely truthful here y/n,” god the way he said your name had you trembling your knees. “you can’t be jude. we’re so different-”
“that’s what you think, and it’s all in your head. tell me this second you don’t feel it? the magnitude sensation for me to approach you? i can see it in your pretty face darling. now it’s you who can’t even look at me? or yet talk,” jude inches closer to you, seeing your chest rapidly raise up and down.
“you’re everything to me… i’ve had to resist myself because i have no idea if you feel the same way. i’d rather love you from a distance than be embarrassed and you not liking me back…” jude traced with his fingertips along your forearm. “don’t you see it? everything i’ve done it’s because of you… i wouldn’t be here if you weren’t y/n. i just want you…” his pleading and vulnerability in his voice had you gulping a response.
“let me show it to you hm? how you make me feel… how you deserved to be treated,” you nodded feeling the heat rise in you. the familiar desire to be wanted, appreciated, touched by a man like jude. “please jude…” you said in a small whimper, looking up where jude had a hungry gazed, lips slightly open. “show me-”
you remembered how cool the wall was when he hit your back against it, kissing you deeply, so messy and hot. how his hands traveled from your side and around your spine, gripping your ass as he ran his tongue down from your jaw and pulse point. you could feel everything, how big jude was, how hot his skin was to your touch, how desperate the need was.
he had dragged you to his room, his lips never leaving yours any second. it was so vivid in your head, how your back pressed against his chest, how his fingers slowly traced your abdomen down to inside your bottoms, his fingers covered by you slick coat, adding the bit-test of pressure on you clit rubbing it in small circles. all you could focus on was the determination and how hot he looked like this.
jude untied the bows from your bottoms, freeing you completely. he felt like he would die any second, this was real and no turning back. he could’ve watched you all night like this. so sensitive with the smallest touch.the familiar burn in your tummy when he sunk into you with a forceful thrust, hips curling and rocking to pleasure waves of emotions, the heat between your legs as he talked you through it all. the flicker in his eyes when you moaned and begged his name, how your nails scratched against his back asking for more and more.
“you belong to me… don’t you forget that y/n…” he kissed you sloppy, pushing one last thrust and spilling into you. it wasn’t just one round, he made sure to take you against the wall, balcony, shower, and the small couch in his room, in many positions too. he wanted to savor the moment like he imagined. this was way better than his dreams and thoughts in his head. you were so tight, so wet, very much made exactly for him.
the heavy weight on top you made you wake up early. you were used to waking up this early, but not with a hot body on top of you. with one eye barely open you looked at the digital clock, showing just before 7am, the whole house quiet. you looked around before your eyes landed on a sleepy jude, tucked between your arm and head nuzzled into your neck.
your heart raced, not being able to control your confused and guilty emotions. last night was real then? not a sick dream in your head or a movie, it had happened here in his room. “oh shit…” you whispered, chest sinking down as your controlled your breathing. you had to get out, feeling a tad stuck and rushed in space. this wasn’t supposed to happen… even though it felt so right. so meant to be.
you had managed to sneak jude to his back without waking him up. his lips pursed and brown drawn in, breathing heavy. you changed quickly back to your bikini, leaving the room how you had remembered. you ran a hand against your hair, the need to throw water in your face to cool the warmth in your cheeks. you weren’t used to this. you never did one night stands or had friends with benefits relationships. if that’s even what it was.
you couldn’t help but think maybe jude was lying to just get into your pants. you had seen how jude was like when around other woman. but you weren’t other woman. you we’re y/n. the shy but outgoing, smart but naive, and overly patient y/n. you didn’t want it be like them, or seen like them either. all you could think of was him. his brown eyes and stupid gentlemen demeanor.
you avoided him anywhere he was or walked in. the only way you could escape and let go of things was this. you weren’t used to this and didn’t have much experience so you did what you were best at which was ignore jude. but even your friends had noticed you were off and that there was a glow to you. drawing attention from everyone and the person who caused it all.
a small part of you did have a twinge of faith… what if he wasn’t lying? what if everything he proved to you last night was exactly how he felt? what if he was madly in love with you? that you were the woman of his dreams? that it wasn’t just sex and there was raw emotions included?
the ghost feeling against your back made you shiver, realizing it was jude who stood behind you, locking you with both arms extending out to cage you in as you cut up fruit. “you left me this morning,” jude spoke into your ear, feeling your weight shift from one foot to another. “i didn’t want anyone to catch us,” you say shaky, making up a lie knowing part of it was true.
“you’re lying to me…”
“am not. let me go… i-i-i need to bring this outside.”
“you are darling, you think i didn’t notice? you can’t even look at me without talking to me, and you’ve ignored me the whole day thinking i haven’t realized that,” jude let you go but followed behind you speaking a little louder. “lower your voice! i haven’t said anything to anyone!” you hiss, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the pool room. “what is it you want from me?” you say pleading.
“i want you! i thought i made that clear last night. not just with sex, but with my confession? before we fell asleep? don’t tell me you forgot that,” you shook your head. “i’m just having trouble to process all this, jude… i feel like we’re making a huge mistake…”
“to whom? to our friends? or to you?” jude asked sincerely. you always seemed to put them first over yourself and jude noticed that. “why would it be a mistake? if at the end of the day what we have is real…”
“jude it’s been one night together between us! look at us now! i can’t risk our group falling if we don’t work out jude! it’s not fair to them, to me and you!” you tried to reason but jude shook his head. he stood up from where he leaned, his broad frame over towering yours again.
“why are you so adamant we won’t work? we’ve barely been given a shot here! you’re overthinking it y/n. they don’t have to know a single thing pretty girl, not unless you don’t want them too.but for once think of what you want and your heart desires. not what your friends say. forget them and for once think about yourself,” jude spoke, grabbing your hands.
“i want us to work more than anything y/n. i’m not lying to you and have never gave you the reason either. i’m a good man y/n. just let me in here,” he poked your heart, seeing a sad smile appear on your face. “we can’t be so quick to judge without even trying! why is it so hard to do that? i just want to be with you, i’ve suffered enough as it is already,” jude was pleading, wanting to do anything to keep you here with him.
“and if we do and i lose you jude? people have walked in and straight out of my life. what if we try and it’s going so well just for us to part? i can’t handle losing someone else i love,” you whimper, tears of exhaustion and pain let out. “imagine me now and then? i’ve always thought what’s best for myself and i’m just confused jude… why me?” your voice sounded strained and from another dimension.
“why not you? you’re perfect y/n. anyone who thinks other wise must have been dropped into their head. you have everything that makes me so drawn to you… your eyes… your smile… your way of being… your hair… your everything. you’re everything i want and i’m willing to prove that to you however you ask. just let me be the man you need pretty girl…” jude rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your jaw as you began to fall deeper into this new wave and world with him.
“no one knows. just me and you jude,” you kissed him feverently. the aching burn in your chest as he kissed you with such devotion and power. you shivered beneath him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him closer. jude let out a small groan gripping your hips and pushing you to his lower body. there was no self-control here, no professionalism. he quickly became your favorite taste, and feeling. just two humans brought together in the most correct and soulmate way.
two humans who had no idea what was ahead of them.
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ribbonprincess · 2 days
Text
🧸࿐ ࿔*:・゚
note: I'm back..with some dad!jj This is so rushed and messy:((
"hey...woah,no we don't eat that cupcake" JJ sighs for the hundredth time this morning,pulling one of John b discarded bandadas away from her mouth "you have a blinky, remember?" he holds the purple my little pony pacifier in front of her chubby face to prove his point.
An exact copy of his eyes stares back at him "you know what- don't stare at me like that little miss,you don't wanna fight me" he says,letting her suck at her pacifier before tickling her sides making her release loud giggles "that's what I thought- not so girl boss hm" "jayj,what are you doing?" You're standing at the doorway of his room at the chateau,your arms crossed over your chest as your face crunches up. "oh,hi mama...I was- you know, teaching her self dense you never know what could happen" "she's 8 months old" a sigh escapes your mouth before you can stop it "all she cares about is sleeping,eating and her toys"
Lilith squeals Happily when you come in her vision,clapping her chubby hands together "hi angel,dada is annoying you? yeah...I know a thing or two about that" "hey! I'm awesome" your boyfriend protests "and she loves me...right peanut?" he gather her in his arms,putting his baseball cap on her much tinier head "aww,look at you! Dada's twin" he smiles,kissing her cheeks as the hat slides down obscuring her vision causing a loud whine to escape her lips at the sudden disappearance of her dad.
"woah...'m right here- don't need to cry" he laughs,fixing the head so she can see him again "yeah,right here baby mama's here too" he says,tugging you into his side as Lilith smiles widely "it's unfair...I had to carry her for 9 months and have a painful birth and she comes out looking exactly like you" as to annoy even more the small girl giggles "it's not funny,miss" "I think it's hilarious,see she even has my humor!" JJ smiles putting his palm up "high five!" he shouts making the baby squeals before she hits his palm with her much more tiny hand "hell yeah!"
Your expression softens softly at the scene before shaking your head "what I got myself into.." the phrase comes out slightly breathy,not making itself hearable to either JJ or the baby. Yeah,you loved your little chaotic family.
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roseghoul26 · 8 hours
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Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader
Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!
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If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.
But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 
It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 
Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 
In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 
Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 
A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 
“The fuck you doin’?” 
“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 
He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 
You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 
Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 
There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 
Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”
You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”
You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.
The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 
In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 
Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 
Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 
You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 
The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 
Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 
It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 
He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”
You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.
You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 
“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 
“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 
Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 
It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 
Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 
It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”
You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”
He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.
“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 
“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”
See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 
You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 
And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.
“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.
“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 
“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 
He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”
It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke
“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”
You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 
“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.
He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 
Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 
It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 
Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 
Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 
He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”
“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”
“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 
“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”
“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”
“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”
“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 
“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”
“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”
“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”
“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”
His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”
“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”
There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”
The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”
He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 
“You don’t have to-”
“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 
“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 
He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 
Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”
“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”
You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”
“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”
“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  
He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.
“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.
“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”
“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”
“That’s two questions.”
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”
“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”
“Do you regret it?”
“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.
“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 
“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”
It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 
You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”
“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 
His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”
“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”
If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”
“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”
“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 
“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 
You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”
When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 
“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.
“So no sex then?”
Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.
“So you’ve never-”
“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.
“Not even after you left?”
“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 
“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”
“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.
He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”
Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 
In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 
“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 
“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 
It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”
Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.
You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”
“Deal.” 
You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 
Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 
Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 
Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 
An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 
“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 
“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 
Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 
“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 
You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 
When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.
His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 
Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 
“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 
“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”
When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”
“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”
“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.
He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.
It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 
But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.
He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.
With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.
He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 
But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 
You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.
His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  
You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”
Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 
The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 
They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 
You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 
Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.
You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.
He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”
“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 
“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”
Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 
Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.
His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 
Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 
You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 
“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 
For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 
It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 
“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 
But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.
“You close?” 
“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 
“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.
You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.
That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 
His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 
An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 
“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 
“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 
Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 
You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 
When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 
With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 
The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 
For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.
And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 
“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”
Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”
Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”
You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.
“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”
As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 
One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 
Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 
All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.
You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.
You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 
That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 
You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 
“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 
“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”
You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 
You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”
His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.
You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”
Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 
He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 
Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 
Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 
Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 
He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 
You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 
He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 
When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 
You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.
The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 
When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.
“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.
“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 
With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 
You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”
He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 
It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”
He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”
You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”
“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”
You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 
“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 
“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”
Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”
“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”
149 notes · View notes
delulujuls · 3 days
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saudade | as12
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funny how you can miss someone you never met, right? my heart was aching today a lot and i cried even more while writing this so yes, it is long and it is sad, so you decide if you wanna read this or not. if you do, please enjoy if its even possible to enjoy bawling your eyes out lol
oh ayrton, you will always be missed
summary: during senna's funeral y/n has flashes of their shared past and what they could have together
warnings: for sure its intense, 5.6k words of pure sadness, thats it basically
pairing: fem!mclaren!driver x ayrton senna
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It was a warm, pleasant day. The beginning of may didn't disappoint with the weather at all. A light, warm breeze swayed the flexible branches, on which fresh leaves were green. The sun was pleasantly warm, but it wasn't unbearable heat. Birdsong could be heard, but so could crying. On this day, mourners outnumbered the blossoming buds on the trees.
A crowd of people had gathered in front of the church, but it was nothing compared to the crowds still on their way. Everyone was dressed in black, and the only point of color in the black mass was a yellow dot, which from a bird's eye view resembled a sunflower petal, thrown onto the black, fertile soil. It was a helmet, a yellow racing helmet, which no one gathered there needed to be introduced to. In trembling hands, a young girl held it, never once moving it away from her chest. She held it against herself so tightly, as if she wanted to feel the warmth emanating from it, but it radiated coldness, like the inside of the church she was about to enter, barely able to keep herself on her feet.
Inside the chapel, it hadn't yet become crowded; the military made sure that the family and friends entered the church first. Inside, there was a grave silence, broken only by the occasional blowing of noses into tissues or a stifled sob.
The girl was aware of what was happening, she knew where she was and why she was there. However, her brain stubbornly avoided connecting the dots and completely pushed the facts out of her consciousness. If it had, she would probably have thrown the held helmet deep into the church, and it would have stopped only when it hit the wooden, solid coffin. The girl's gaze never once lifted towards her.
"Y/N, can you hear me?," the girl flinched when Ron's words reached her for the umpteenth time, "You know you don't have to be here, we can be outside."
The girl blinked several times, and at that very moment, her brain stopped pushing away the facts. Ron held her arm, his eyes swollen, his face even redder than usual. She herself pressed the helmet to her chest, so tightly that only when she moved it away from herself a little was she able to fully breathe. She raised her eyes and looked around. She stood in the front row of benches, where at the very top, just in front of the altar steps, stood the coffin. A large, carefully ironed Brazilian flag lay on it, its freely hanging ends touching the fresh flowers lying beneath it.
"Y/N…," the man began again, this time quieter. He saw tears in the girl's eyes, and he was about to continue, but she pressed the helmet tighter to her chest and started walking forward. She only moved the helmet away from herself when she placed it on the coffin. Y/N fell to her knees and began to sob, pressing her forehead against the hard lid. However, the lid of the coffin wasn't the only thing that separated her from her friend. The worst was death.
It was a brisk february morning. Silverstone Circuit had not yet woken up, there was no deafening roar of engines in the background, and the smell of burnt rubber didn't hang in the air.
Although it wasn't a race day and only a handful of people were milling around the facility, unlike the tens of thousands who usually flooded in for the weekend races, this day was expected to be exciting and full of emotions too.
Certainly, it was so for the 23-year-old Theodore Racing driver, who, sitting in the passenger seat on her way to the circuit, nervously picked at her nails. However, she should now be referred to as the "former Theodore Racing driver" because on this day, she had a test day at McLaren, with whom she signed a contract two weeks ago. In the past two months, the girl's life had changed dramatically. A few days after her birthday, she became the European Formula 3 World Champion, winning the title by just one point. One! The fact that she was so young and the only woman to rise so high meant that many people had their eyes on her and followed her every move. However, most people who hadn't seen her driving at over 200 kilometers per hour thought that being a woman automatically disqualified her from the sport. Ron Dennis, the head of McLaren, was familiar with her skills, though, and seeing how well she performed in the lower levels, he decided to take a risk and give her a chance. One of his proteges, however, wasn't so sure about this decision.
"Girl? You want to replace Prost with a girl?"
Senna, upon hearing the candidate to replace Alain, who, after five years of dealing with him, decided to quit and move away from McLaren, only shook his head.
"Yes, that's exactly what I plan to do," Ron lit a cigarette and shifted his gaze from the car to the disgusted face of the Brazilian, "Maybe she'll calm you down a bit. It's a miracle I found anyone to take Prost's place, no one wants to work with you!"
Ayrton snorted and shook his head again, unable to believe that his boss wanted to do something so idiotic. Silence fell in the garage, none of the mechanics intended to interrupt their conversation. Just like everyone else in the team agreed with Ron that it was a miracle to find anyone willing to take Prost's place, the same majority couldn't imagine a woman starting to race in Formula 1. Especially alongside a driver like Senna.
"A few races, and she'll quit on her own," the Brazilian muttered, "You'll see."
"Pray that she likes you and wants to race for us."
When the car stopped in the gravel parking lot, the girl got out and put on her sunglasses. Tom, her manager and a close friend of her father, just glanced at her and rubbed her back. He knew perfectly well how stressed she was. No one would be prepared for so much in such a short time.
"Everything will be fine."
"You don't have to say that."
He sighed and just pointed with his hand towards the entrance to the facility, letting her through the glass doors. He didn't convince himself too much. Shortly after, after receiving the appropriate instructions, they reached the paddock. Here, the sun didn't glare in her eyes, so the girl took off her glasses, looking around. An empty Silverstone was something unheard of.
"Good morning, welcome, good to see you,"
Ron, standing in front of the garage, as soon as he noticed the girl, broke off from the conversation with one of the mechanics and smiled at her, shaking her hand. She showed up for the tests, so he thought she deserved a shot. Maybe this would work.
The girl made an effort to smile and nodded at him. Fortunately, she didn't have to engage in a conversation with him because he was immediately engaged by her manager. She was glad that in moments like this, someone else could spare her from meaningless chatter.
"Good morning."
She greeted, approaching the car where a few men were working on the wheels, wing, and cockpit. Some of them spoke up, while the rest just nodded at her. She immediately felt unwelcome, and barely a minute had passed since she appeared in the garage. However, this was nothing new to her, she would lie if she said she was surprised. But the most important thing for her was that Ron treated her as an equal, or at least didn't make her feel like she didn't belong here. That gave her a sense of comfort. She didn't need a crowd standing behind her; she only needed two people who had her back.
The girl slowly walked around the car. The new, ready-for-the-season MP4/4 looked very good. Next to the car marked with her number stood another, practically identical, differing only in the number painted in red on the front.
However, the owner of the car was nowhere to be seen, at least not in sight. Y/N hadn't had the opportunity to meet Ayrton personally. The drivers' presentation with the car was scheduled for the end of the month, so it was quite likely that until then, she would have time to mentally prepare herself. She knew Ayrton from stories; she could watch his battles both on and off the track on television, the domestic war he waged with Alain Prost which ended with the Frenchman's departure to Ferrari.
Y/N knew she would have to face many things, one of which was Senna.
"Ready?"
Ron's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, he held a helmet and jumpsuit for her in his hand. She nodded and took the items from him, going to change. When she returned, she took her place in the cockpit, and after some time, when everything was ready, she followed the instructions and took her place on the track. She took a deep breath and clenched her hands on the steering wheel, staring at the start lights. When they went out, the girl sped off with squealing tires and the roar of the engine.
Ron and Tom stood next to each other, watching her movements on small monitors. After some time, the mechanics also began to glance at the monitors, seemingly more interested in whether she hadn't crashed yet than in her results. What surprised them was the sight on one of the displays showing her current lap time, which now stood at 1.38.412 seconds. Ron smiled and shook his head in amazement. The young girl was incredible.
The car itself wasn't handling badly. Besides feeling like a huge boat, to which she was definitely too small, it was actually a well-engineered machine. A few more laps, and she should be able to tame it completely. Although this fact was reassuring. When the girl spotted the checkered flag, she obediently pulled into the garage. She turned off the engine and unfastened her seatbelts, but she didn't get out of the car or take off her helmet because Ron was already beside her, hugging her tightly.
"Young lady, you flew in that car!" The man helped her out of the car, and she took off her helmet and balaclava, taking out the earplugs. "I told you, you did amazingly. Unbelievable lap time, great driving."
The girl wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and blew a strand of wet hair from her forehead.
"It's a really good car, sir."
"A good car without a good driver is just a good car, and a good car with a great driver is a masterful car," Ron shook her hand again, "Brilliant job."
The girl returned his smile, and when she glanced at Tom standing a few steps away, he was also smiling, his smile was the kind of "I told you so."
Y/N gave appropriate feedback to the mechanics and strategists, who now seemed to pay attention to her significantly more than when she first appeared in the garage that morning. Their faces still tried to remain impassive, but nevertheless, they noted everything she had to say. When it was all over, the girl went to change. She washed her face with cold water and looked at herself in the mirror, clenching her hands on the cold sink. She did it.
When she managed to cool down and calm herself down a bit, clutching her helmet under her arm and holding her jumpsuit in the other hand, shortly after she left the bathroom. Suddenly, she bumped into someone, and that someone turned out to be someone she sincerely didn't want to meet that day.
"Watch where you're going."
Senna muttered, holding a lit cigarette between his lips. He gave her a quick glance and disappeared through the doorway, his jumpsuit rustling as he walked away.
The girl squeezed her helmet tighter under her arm and returned to the garage, putting things back in place. After receiving the last praise and handshake from Ron, she said goodbye and left the paddock with Tom. Ayrton pretended to be too busy preparing for the start, so he didn't honor her with even a single glance. When he heard Ron praising her driving, he only snorted under his breath and shook his head. When the garage fell silent again, Ayrton took his place in the car, getting ready to drive.
"1.38.412"
Senna looked up when Ron spoke above his head.
"1.38.412," he repeated calmly, "The lap time of a twenty-three-year-old after her first drive in a Formula 1 car."
The Brazilian snorted and lowered his gaze, putting earplugs in his ears.
"I hope you'll be better than the girl."
Ayrton didn't hear his words anymore because he put on his balaclava and helmet. He didn't believe the girl had achieved such a lap time. And even if she did, it only spoke of the car's capabilities, not her skills. Senna hoped he would be faster by at least a few seconds. He had been racing in Formula 1 for almost five years; he was incredibly fast, and above all, he was a man!
When the tests ended, and he returned to the garage, satisfied with himself and his driving, the first thing he did was to look for Ron's reaction, wanting to see his expression when he rubbed his nose in it. However, the Brit looked at him indulgently, and Senna, not knowing what he meant, quickly tried to free himself from the seat belts. The Brit simply turned the monitor towards him and pointed with his finger at something that, according to Ayrton, was a big mistake.
Between him and the girl, there was a difference of a few seconds, indeed. But Ayrton was slower.
When Senna freed himself from the car, hastily took off his helmet and balaclava, and removed the earplugs, he was about to say something when Ron stopped him, pressing a cassette to his chest.
"Here, watch it tonight and see how the twenty-three-year-old beat you."
Ayrton squeezed the cassette in his hand and only watched him leave, unable to utter a word. It was some kind of absurdity!
Absurd or not, Senna spent the evening in front of the TV. He sat on the couch, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He frowned and carefully watched the recording from the camera placed in her cockpit. He saw how she aggressively entered corners, braking as late as possible, and how quickly she stepped on the gas when the centrifugal forces stopped working. He took a drag and blew smoke from his mouth, rewinding the tape from the beginning, just as it ended. The recording lasted twenty minutes, and he watched it for the seventh time, counting each lap on his stopwatch. Every time, the result was the same.
He couldn't wrap his head around what she had done, but he decided to consider it just a stroke of luck. She had a better day; he had a slightly worse one. Moreover, it wasn't the testing session or even the qualifying rounds that determined the winner, but the race itself. Driving on an empty track without rivals wanting to take your position was one thing, but racing in a competition where everyone wanted to beat you was a completely different matter. If someone had told Ayrton then that four years later, that girl would shed tears at his funeral, he would have told them to fuck themselves.
Y/N felt a strong arm around her waist, trying to lift her. Ron's heart broke seeing her in such a state. However, he couldn't help her even if he wanted to.
"Y/N, please…," he began, but she shook her head, overcome with tears. Wet stains of tears were visible on the flag covering the coffin. The girl was trembling all over, it was a miracle she could breathe. Since the accident, it seemed like Y/N was handling the tragedy very well, just being sad and quiet. No one had any idea what was yet to come. Everyone who saw Y/N by the coffin, this sight of a broken girl, felt nothing but sympathy. The bond she had formed with Ayrton seemed stronger and much richer in emotions than any he had with any of his partners. Ayrton wasn't just her teammate, he wasn't just a friend or sometimes her biggest enemy. From the very beginning, Y/N mattered to him, and if he said otherwise, he was simply lying.
The official skills assessment test for the girl was scheduled to take place less than three weeks after her first visit to the McLaren garage. Now, however, an official presentation awaited her at the reception hosted by the team. One evening at the company headquarters, a banquet was held, attended by far more people than initially anticipated. Most of them were journalists who had to announce to the world the phenomenon that was a woman at the top level of motor racing.
"It's more crowded here than I thought," the girl admitted when she entered the team headquarters with Tom by her side.
"Everyone is curious about you. There are even a couple of journalists from Australia, believe it or not," Tom said.
She looked at him in shock. "And they flew here specifically for this presentation?"
He smiled and nodded. "They'll be talking to kangaroos and kiwi birds about you," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. And it worked because she giggled at his words. However, her smile faded when she noticed Ron talking to Ayrton and two other men in suits.
"Everything will be fine. You did well on the tests, so you'll do well here too," he said softly, rubbing her arm when he noticed her expression.
"There weren't any sharks in suits and piranhas with cameras there," Tom was about to add some words of encouragement when Ron spotted them and raised his hand with a glass in it, trying to get their attention. They approached him, and he greeted them, introducing them to the directors. Ayrton, standing aside, was mindful of how many people were now watching him and wondering if his new teammate would share Prost's fate. However, the Brazilian had no intention of making an effort for gestures he didn't intend. Nevertheless, courtesy demanded it, so he extended his hand, which she hesitantly shook.
"Senna," he said, his Brazilian accent strongly evident in his last name. "Welcome to the team."
The girl introduced herself as well, but it was hard for her to maintain eye contact. Not because he was almost half a head taller, but because of the confidence emanating from him. It was his team, his place, and his time, and she was just a guest. There was no room for discussion.
Fortunately, the awkward situation was soon interrupted as the drivers and management were invited onstage. Ayrton gestured for the girl to go ahead, and she began to walk in front of him.
"I hope you don't grip the wheel as weakly as you do hands," he murmured behind her, quietly enough so no one else would hear, but loud enough for her to hear his words.
Y/N lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of heat wash over her. Even if she wanted to respond, she couldn't. He caught her completely off guard.
As they stepped onto the small stage, they stood behind one of the cars prepared for this season. The girl intertwined her fingers behind her back and straightened up, standing next to Ayrton. He might play his stupid games on her, but she had no intention of showing that she would easily give in. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and almost believed that his comment had gone unnoticed, but her cheeks were flushed. Normally, he would probably snort under his breath, but now he kept his composure.
After a few words from Ron and the board members, the floor was given to the drivers. The two of them remained on stage, each with a microphone in hand. Now it was time for the media, for their pressing questions and burning issues.
Ayrton sat relaxed, almost bored. His legs were bent at the knees, slightly apart. One hand was around his waist, resting his elbow on it, holding the microphone in the other hand. He answered questions briefly and to the point, not dwelling more than necessary. His attire alone indicated that today's banquet was just a formality; he wore a suit, but instead of a shirt, he had a white T-shirt, and on his feet were sports shoes.
Despite her best efforts not to stress out, Y/N was far from as calm as Ayrton. She sat up straight, one leg crossed over the other. Although her red dress practically touched the floor, she glanced occasionally to make sure nothing was out of place. She felt like every move, even the smallest one, was being watched and analyzed. She felt she wasn't focusing on the content of the questions but on how she appeared.
The girl blinked several times, trying to find a sensible answer to the question that had been directed at her a few seconds ago.
"Could you repeat that?" she asked, feeling a bit embarrassed about her inattention. Ayrton, however, heard the question well.
"I asked if you think you're good enough to compete with men or if you're just here for publicity? Racing is still a male-dominated sport, and it seems like you're just trying to prove something rather than compete," the man in glasses squeezed the voice recorder in his hand and looked at her expectantly. Seeing her confusion, he sighed, "I see you're not too bright, so let me ask directly - do you really think you belong here? Do you have what it takes to keep up with the boys on the track?"
The girl panicked a little; this question completely threw her off guard. Emotions overwhelmed her, and she couldn't utter a word. But there was someone who could speak and had an exceptionally sharp tongue.
"I see that, Mr. - again, for whom are you writing?" Ayrton spoke up, furrowing his brows.
"John Ruffleck, Guardian."
"Ah, of course, the Guardian," the man clicked his tongue indulgently. "Clearly, you are the one that didn't shine with intelligence, asking last year's Formula 3 world champion if she fits in here." Y/N was shocked to hear that Ayrton stood up for her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Despite still sitting calmly, the Brazilian was ready for a verbal battle. "If I fit in here, then the 23-year-old who set a better lap time than me during the tests also fits."
Ayrton bluntly silenced the journalist, who merely muttered a quiet "Thank you" and lowered his head.
Several more questions were thrown in by Ayrton, steering the conversation away from sexist undertones. By the end of the conference, there were no more questions about sexist issues. The drivers got up from their seats, and Y/N turned off her microphone, placing it on the sound table as Senna did the same.
"Thank you," she said, looking at him. He also looked at her, but this time his expression didn't express annoyance or boredom, as it did two times before when their eyes met.
"Don't thank me," he said, taking two glasses of champagne from the waitress. "You are allow to drink, right?" he asked before handing her one of them. She nodded and took the glass from him. "Don't thank me, just learn to counter such nonsense. If they're rude, we can be rude too."
Y/N took a big sip of champagne. Her mouth was dry from nerves.
"I don't want to be rude, it's not proper," she said.
"Not proper?" Senna scoffed. "Because you're a girl?"
"Because they'll think poorly of me"
"Do you really care what that bunch of idiots thinks?"
The girl lowered her gaze. Ayrton was right.
Did she really care? She was a driver; she was supposed to deliver good results. She wasn't supposed to please the audience.
She was about to reply when Ron approached them, cursing the Guardian journalist's stupidity. He was so caught up that he didn't even notice Ayrton sending the girl a final glance and then finishing his champagne, taking out cigarettes from his back pocket, and walking away towards the exit. Y/N only watched him go. At that moment, neither of them had any idea how much she would learn from Ayrton, or that he would gladly take on the role of a teacher himself. No one would have even thought of it then.
When Ron managed to lift the shaken girl, she reached for her helmet again and pressed it to her chest. When she looked up, across from her, on the other side of the coffin, she saw a man in a wheelchair. Frank Williams looked at her in silence, but his gaze was apologetic, his face sad, and his eyes looked like he hadn't slept for days.
"Why?" Y/N whispered, but she wasn't sure if anything managed to leave her lips. Williams didn't need to hear her; her eyes said it all. Even if he couldn't hear her question or look into her swollen, tear-filled eyes, he would know perfectly well that she blamed him for his death. "Why, Frank? Why?" Maybe even more than she blamed God.
"If you can hold on to me for longer than five seconds, I'll let you pass," Ayrton said, exhaling smoke. He sat on one of the crates outside McLaren's garage, wearing sunglasses. The weather for the upcoming race looked exceptionally good, but Senna wouldn't mind rain.
"Are you challenging me?" the girl asked, squinting and looking at him against the light. They were sitting outside, where it was quieter, as the mechanics worked inside the garage.
"Why would I?" the man chuckled, taking another drag. Seeing her uncertainty, he offered her a cigarette, trying to reassure her with his gesture.
Y/N took the cigarette and inhaled the smoke, which tickled her throat, making her cough. She wrinkled her nose and after a moment handed him back the cigarette.
"Don't you want to test my braking skills and eliminate me from the race?"
Ayrton laughed and shook his head. "So, I do have a bad reputation after all."
"Definitely not the best," the girl said softly, smiling uncertainly. Ayrton playfully nudged the crate she was sitting on with his foot. He genuinely liked this girl; in fact, he could and wanted to work with her. Now he was even willing to let her win the race if she showed that she could keep up with him. She had demonstrated many times that she could drive at an exceptionally high level, so Senna was willing to show some humanity and let her achieve her first victory, especially on home turf. He stubbed out the cigarette and stood up, taking off his cap and placing it on her head, pulling it down over her eyes.
"Five seconds," he repeated, walking away as she adjusted the cap on her head.
The girl decided to take up the challenge, realizing that such an opportunity might never come again. Ayrton and collaboration? They were complete opposites after all. Y/N, who started the next day from the last place on the podium, managed to fight her way up to second place at the beginning of the race. She spent the next forty laps chasing after Ayrton, wondering if there was any point in chasing him if she couldn't overtake him. Seeing his familiar helmet in the side mirror, Ayrton smiled. He added a bit more throttle and began counting to five, but the girl's car didn't seem to be falling back. When the agreed time was up, much to everyone's disbelief, both on the track and in front of the TVs, Senna slowed down and obediently let her pass. Unable to believe her own eyes, the girl pressed the gas and took the lead, crossing the finish line with him.
She only believed in her victory when Ayrton offered her his hand and helped her onto the podium.
"Five seconds," he said, smiling at her.
"Five seconds," she replied, returning the smile.
How much she would give to see Ayrton again, even for five seconds. To be able to hug him for five seconds, see his smile. Five seconds now would last like an eternity, for which she would pay any price.
The church was filled with people, mostly family and friends, individuals directly connected to Ayrton. The remaining people were outside, surrounding the church, also gathering along the main road. There were talks of crowds, thousands who came to bid farewell to their hero. They too would give much to see Ayrton even for five seconds. Whole, alive, before the Imola accident.
Y/N held the helmet on her knees, looking at it with vacant eyes. She ran her fingers along the edges, tracing the stickers and sponsor names. She squeezed the soft padding inside. She closed her eyelids. Five seconds.
"Necessity is the mother of invention," Ayrton said, loud enough to make the girl jump. She was barefoot, wearing shorts and a bikini top, with his helmet on her head, visor down. She waved a piece of cardboard towards the grill, trying to ignite it better and not wanting the smoke to get in her eyes, deciding to use whatever she had at hand. And hoping Ayrton wouldn't get mad that she used his helmet for this.
The man smiled and shook his head, placing the wood he held in his hands next to the grill. Standing next to the girl, he lifted the visor and looked into her eyes. She looked at him apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"It suits you," Senna interrupted, smiling. "Possibly even more than me."
"Do you think so?"
The man nodded. His hair, damp from swimming in the lake, fell onto his forehead, and his brown eyes sparkled. Ayrton had been looking at Y/N like this for some time, in a way that many would describe as tender. Certainly, the girl wasn't just a teammate to him, as who would invite a teammate to their hometown to meet their closest family. Certainly not Ayrton.
"I love you, Y/N,"
He confessed as he lay on the jetty, gazing at the starry sky, where there was no trace of the hot Brazilian sun anymore.
The girl laughed and took a sip of beer, lying next to him and leaning on his arm. Both were drunk, so she was sure Ayrton was joking. However, when his confession was met with silence and he turned to look at her, his face was deadly serious.
"I mean it, Y/N. I love you,"
"You can't love me, you have a girlfriend," she replied, still laughing. There was no way he was serious.
Ayrton got up and without a word, kissed her, wanting to prove his words. When he pulled away after a moment, there was no smile on the girl's face. He was about to say something again, but she touched his cheek and returned the kiss, and he pulled her closer, holding her tightly in his arms. That night, they would find out how much they meant to each other.
Senna meant a lot to the girl, there was no doubt about it. He also meant unimaginable things to all those who took part in the funeral ceremonies, not only in Brazil itself but worldwide. It might have seemed like the world had lost an incredible man, someone who in life had already become a legend. Who would have thought that this living, almost mystical legend was just a man? A man who is mortal. Surely no one looked at Senna that way. Certainly not Frank Williams, who eventually decided to agree and accept Ayrton into his team, bearing an incredible burden now. Senna was supposed to lift his team to great heights, and his tragic death dealt a blow, not so much personal as it was business-related. However, at that moment, that mattered least.
Y/N and Ayrton sat at the kitchen table, eating a late dinner in silence. They were in their shared home in Europe, but for the past few months, the walls of the house seemed to be becoming more alien with each passing day. The atmosphere was as thick as it is now, when none of the people sitting at the table even bothered to steal a glance.
"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to go to Williams?"
The girl asked, stirring the contents of her plate with her fork. Ayrton tightened his grip on the glass and took a few sips from it.
"Ayrton-", "Why did I have to tell you?" he entered her words and looked at her, "Just to make you try to stop me?
Y/N blinked several times. She was shocked. She had the impression that the man sitting opposite was a complete stranger and someone she had never known before.
"To stop you? I'm your girlfriend, I should be the first to know about your plans, not hear from strangers."
"Did it change anything? Did something happen that you didn't find out from me?"
"Yes!" she shouted, slamming her hand on the table. She was so done with all of this. "I'm fed up with you treating me like an enemy for several weeks!"
"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" he stood up, leaning over and pointing his finger at her. "You have no idea how much I had to do to get that offer, how much it cost me!"
"I have no idea, because you don't tell me anything!" she also stood up, pushing his hand away, which he was aiming at her face, "Fame has gone to your head, you're acting like a complete idi-" She didn't get to finish because Ayrton slapped her across the face. He didn't realize when his open hand met her cheek. Y/N grabbed her cheek and looked at him in shock. At the moment of the strike, he also seemed to snap out of it, as if he had been hit himself.
"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said calmly, trying to approach her, but she backed away a few steps, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."
"But you did," she said with a trembling voice, tears welling up in her eyes, "I don't recognize you anymore, Ayrton".
As the funeral rites began, the last thing on Y/N's mind was their recent arguments, of which there had been plenty lately. Nonetheless, since the incident when he raised his hand to her, Senna understood he had crossed a line. The only upside of the whole situation was that they had started talking again, and Ayrton had come to realize that Y/N was not his enemy. Yes, on the track, the girl might be someone he now had to defeat even more than usual, but she was still his friend, his girlfriend, his partner. Speaking of partners, many women appeared at the funeral, but four of them spent exceptionally long periods by the coffin. They had a lot in common, yet none of them deigned to exchange glances. Each of Ayrton's partners, even today, on such a dramatic day, looked at her as if she were an enemy. Viviane made sure none of them sat on the bench where the family was seated. Y/N belonged to the family. She didn't intrude, Ayrton invited her himself.
"Maybe you should take a break?" Sid Watkins persistently tried to persuade Ayrton and Y/N to withdraw from the upcoming race. "Two weeks, you'll come back to Monaco in better shape, with lighter minds."
Senna sat on one of the crates behind the Williams garage, elbows resting on his knees. Y/N repeatedly wiped her tear-streaked cheeks, trembling hand holding a cigarette. An hour ago, the qualifying session for tomorrow's race was interrupted by Roland Ratzerberger's serious accident. The man was taken to the hospital, but many said he was taken from the track already dead.
"This shouldn't have happened, there shouldn't have been talk of such an accident," the girl repeated, almost hysterical. She was in tremendous shock, having witnessed the accident herself as she was the one who followed Ratzerberger's car.
"They need to cancel the race," Senna said dryly, his gaze fixed on a point in front of him. "We can't race here, not after something like this."
"And if they don't cancel?" Sid looked from Ayrton to Y/N. "Will you race in such a state? You won't sleep over this until tomorrow."
"If they don't cancel, we'll race for him. I'll drive the best I can to honor him with a victory," Ayrton decided, raising his gaze and looking the doctor in the eyes.
"You like fishing, right? Why don't you go back to Brazil, catch some fish, relax. If you want, I'll come with you, I could use it too."
Senna rubbed his face with his hands, intertwining his fingers and pressing them against his lips. Again, he fell silent. He knew they couldn't not race; he certainly couldn't afford to tell Frank after months of effort that he wouldn't start tomorrow. He couldn't do that.
"I don't want to race," Y/N admitted, shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Ayrton, he, Roland-" the man rose without a word and hugged her tightly. He enveloped her in a strong embrace, stroking her hair. Watkins saw that Senna was thinking intensely. And no matter what he said or did to convince him to skip the race, he would do it his own way.
"Think about it, Ayrton. Just think about it," he said one last time. Senna looked him in the eyes and nodded in silence.
Late in the afternoon, Ayrton and Y/N returned to the hotel. They didn't talk much; Y/N occasionally wiped her eyes with a tissue. Ayrton held her hand a lot. When they lay in bed, Senna laid on her stomach, wrapping his arm around her waist. The girl began to run her fingers through his damp hair.
"I don't want to start tomorrow, Y/N," he said softly. He was facing away from her, she couldn't see that he was crying too. "I have a bad feeling."
"You know nobody can force you to do it," she said calmly, her other hand stroking his cheek. "Maybe Watkins is right? Let's fly to your parents, spend time with the kids. It's been two months since you've seen them."
"I can't," he said, wiping his face with his hand. "I can't, nobody needs a driver who doesn't race."
"Ayrton—" "Just hold me," he interrupted, sitting up. The girl obeyed his command, sitting between his legs and hugging him tightly. Both were silent; Y/N tenderly stroked his head and tense back.
"This will be my last season," he said, not moving an inch from her. "I've done enough; I don't need more. I want to focus on something else, on more important things."
"On what, my love?" she asked gently, still stroking his hair.
"I want to be a dad,"
Senna surprised her with this confession. The girl smiled.
"Would you like to have a son or a daughter?"
"A daughter, oh, how I'd love a daughter," he said, pulling away to look at her face. "Would you like to have a child with me? And become my wife?"
Y/N smiled and nodded. "You know I would."
Ayrton returned her smile and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply.
"Te amo, querido,"
"I love you too, Ayrton. And i will always do."
"And i will always do," Y/N said qiuetly, watching as the coffin slowly descends into the ground. Nothing can destroy such love, certainly not death.
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